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#she was looking up at me trying to decide if she could make the jump to my face
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All Over Again
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're drunk. Your mate is trying to get you home. Only problem is—you're really, really drunk.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Drinking, absolutely zero attempt to establish a pov on my part
a/n: A cute little drabble because if it all fell is making me a tiny bit sad and I love this trope <3
Main Masterlist ♡
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The world spun around you as you let out a delighted laugh, faerie wine pulsing in your veins. This was bliss, and—admittedly—the most fun you’d had in months. The workload you’d been dealt this last year was one for the books. 
“Exactly how many drinks did you have?” Feyre asked you, red and green rays lighting up her face in time with the beat inside Rita’s. 
“So many,” you yelled back, flinging your arms around her shoulders. “So many and I’m going to have more!” 
The High Lady chuckled and swayed with you as you dragged her around the dancefloor. 
This was good for you, your friends had decided, a girl’s night where you could let go of all your responsibilities and inhibitions and then sleep for a solid two days afterward. Feyre and Mor had agreed to stay relatively sober to watch over you, but Mor was just as intoxicated as you were at this point.
“Mor!” you screamed, the shout directed fully into Feyre’s ear. She flinched, but you just continued. “Mor, come here! We can all dance together!” 
The blonde was pulled into the circle of fae, but very little “dancing” took place. You were far past the level of functional inebriation. 
“We should get Azriel,” Feyre shouted over your head, trying to catch the attention of her very distracted friend. 
But Mor just laughed and asked, “Who the hell is that?” as she left the pair to join a woman in a dazzling purple dress at the bar. 
Feyre bit back a sigh, still feeling patient with the small amount of alcohol running through her. “We should go home, yeah?” she attempted, catching your clutch as it tumbled out of your hands. 
You responded with a loud, “Woo!” and Feyre knew she needed to call in reinforcements. A quick outstretch of her mind and the request was sent. 
“This is so much fun!” Your smile was infectious, Feyre replicating it unconsciously as she watched you jump around. “I love you!” you screamed at her—again, directly into her ear. 
It was a few short minutes before Azriel’s presence was felt inside the overcrowded pleasure hall. Small streams of black shadows had begun to slink around your shoulders and arms with you none the wiser to their arrival. Feyre smirked when you jumped at a hand on your back. 
“Hello, my love,” Azriel said, voice low as he bent over to relay the words. “Having fun?” 
Your responding screech had panic flashing across the spymaster’s face, the man simply watching as you threw yourself against Feyre’s chest. He sent a tentative hand out in your direction, but you only pressed further into your friend. 
“Y/n—” Azriel began. 
“I’m married,” you seethed. “I have a mate,” you doubled down. 
Azriel blinked. 
He looked around him, checking behind his tightly coiled wings and past the broad expanse of his shoulders. 
When no other fae appeared to be lurking near his mate, Azriel returned his attention to the pair in front of him, his hazel eyes meeting your piercing (but rather hazy) glare. 
“Y/n, I am… well aware that you have a mate,” he replied, shaking his head to match his slow words. 
You scoffed, sending Feyre a glance as if to say, “Can you believe this guy?” 
“Well, then you should be well aware—” A shaky, misguided finger pointed close to where Azriel was standing “—that I am not interested in you. Got that?” 
A smile paired with furrowed brows conveyed the vast array of Azriel’s current feelings. He watched as you sent him another scathing glare and turned back to your High Lady, noticing the uneven way you stood and the handful of your belongings being managed by your friend. 
“She’s had a lot to drink,” Feyre emphasized. “I’ve been trying to get her to go home but she won’t budge. I thought you’d be able to persuade her. She’s been talking about you nonstop.” 
You were maneuvered into a quieter hallway as Feyre recounted your adventures of the night, making sure to catalog each drink she saw you consume. Azriel fought back a grimace as he pictured you in the morning. You had the worst hangovers. 
“Y/n,” Feyre began, offering you an encouraging smile as you blearily blinked at her words. “Azriel’s here. Do you want to see him? He said he’d bring you home with him.” 
This time, you gasped, face betraying you as it heated with embarrassment. “You called Azriel here?” 
“Mhm, and he said he’s terribly exhausted and needs you to come home for the night.” 
You gaped. “He wants me to come home with him?” 
Standing at your back, Azriel felt his expression pucker in confusion. Hadn’t you just chastised him for flirting with you, a married woman? A married woman who was married to him? 
Feyre seemed to agree with that sentiment as she nodded and said, “Of course he does. He always wants you with him.” 
Your eyes grew wide, hands reaching out to grip Feyre’s shoulders in a serious motion. “Did you tell him?” you panicked. “Fey, you promised you wouldn’t tell him. It could ruin everything.” 
Azriel was suddenly catapulted back about 20 years to when you were too nervous to tell him you were in love with him and Azriel was too much of an idiot to tell you that you were his mate. But that time had passed, thankfully, long ago. The two of you were now very much in love, both mated and married shortly after the inner circle had meddled in your affairs. 
Looking past his disorientation, Azriel caught your wide, pleading gaze directed at Feye. 
“Y/n?” he asked, craning his neck to catch your eyes. When you slowly turned in mortification, a soft kind of adoration pulled at his chest. “Hey,” he smiled. “I’m going to take you home, alright?” 
“O-Okay,” you blushed, taking his outstretched hand in your own. “To my apartment?” 
“No, I thought we’d go to mine. That alright?” he asked, voice gravelly and low and echoing off the long hallway inside Rita’s. 
It didn't matter that you were actually going to his house. The one the two of you shared. 
Instinctually, Azriel grabbed your hand, twinning his fingers with yours and pulling you closer. You, however, so drunk that you were unsure of your current whereabouts or today's date, let out a shaky breath at the intimacy. Azriel felt your fingers tremble between his own. 
“Is this okay?” he found himself asking. 
You nodded jerkily, and Azriel relished in the feeling of falling in love with you all over again. It was an immensely better experience than you pushing him away and accusing him of preying on married women. 
His married woman, but that was beside the point. 
A few steps in silence. You shivered with the rush of cool air outside the pleasure hall. Azriel shifted his wings out, enveloping you in their warmth. 
“Um,” you began, fiddling with his fingers as they rested beside yours. “It’s really nice of you to walk me home.” 
His heart was going to burst. Seeing you, his mate, so shy and reserved and hopelessly enamored by him in such a public way was endlessly endearing. 
“Of course. I would never let you walk home alone,” he replied evenly. And then, to spice things up, he added, “I told you I would always protect you. I meant that.” 
“You said th—” 
You whipped your head to the side as you spoke, losing your balance with the alcohol coursing through you. Your feet fumbled over each other and Azriel caught your hip to deter you from making a full-on beeline for the ground. After he was sure you were not going to plummet to your death, he tucked your hair back from your face. 
“You are my mate,” he said, so assuredly. It was a truth ingrained within him. “I will always walk you home.” 
Your eyes went wide, fingers wrapped tightly around his arms as he held you. You held eye contact with your mate, a feat in and of itself with the state of your head, and he watched as your tongue came out to wet your lips. 
And then, just because he could—because you were his and because you probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning—he whispered, “I love you.” 
The sharp intake of breath that followed his words was apparently too much for your alcohol-addled brain. You let out a small squeak, blinked at him several times, and then, you fainted. Directly into your mate's arms. 
Azriel carried you home (the one you two shared, to clarify yet again), silently laughing to himself, feeling quite smug at the outcome that night. 20 years and he still felt the same. 20 years and he was still in disbelief that he got to walk you home. 
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footygirl114 · 1 day
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Soldado (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
One of the prompts inspired me, so here ya go. It's definitely rusty but please let me know what we think!
Prompt: “Don’t just say that and then walk away!”
Walking up to the front door of the Putella’s home was one the most nerve wracking experiences you have ever experienced in your first 18 years of life. This home had become your sanctuary in the last 3 years, the family had taken you in and made sure you were loved and cared for and in return all you did was ruin the best and only friendship you ever had. 
You had grown up with an absent mother and a drunk father, to say your childhood had been rough was an understatement. You were able to fend for your self by the age of 6 and you knew to hide whenever your father came home after 8pm. When he wasn’t drunk he was a half caring father, but you could never shake the black eyes and bruises you learned to hide. The only good thing he ever did for you was to make sure by the age of 15 you had been a good enough football player to be in the training with the Espanyol team. 
This is where you met Alexia Putellas, she was this young superstar but she still befriended you. It didn’t take her long to see through the lies of where the bruises came from, and one late practice where you avoided going home she got you to spill the truth. From then on she made sure that holidays, school vacations, and everything in between you were invited to stay with her family. 
Her mom became like a mother you never had, and Alba was the sister you never had. But Alexia she just always remained Alexia, you never knew what that meant until you turned 18. You had finally realised that she was more than just anything to you, and that you were madly in love with her. Never being able to keep a secret from her, you confessed your feelings to her 3 weeks ago and you haven’t heard from her since she walked away without responding. 
Which brings you back to today, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of the only place you would ever consider a home ready to say your goodbyes to the family you wish you still had. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind, and it took your drunk father almost breaking your arm and sending you to the ER to finally realise you needed to get out. You had walked the streets of Barcelona aimlessly trying to find a solution, and when the universe showed you a sign you jumped at it. 
Shaking your head you gained the courage to reach up and knock at the door of the house. While you wait for someone to answer you hope that you can get this out without breaking down. 
When the door opens you come face to face with Alba and you say softly “Hola, Albs.”
Alba smiles softly and leans against the door, blocking your way in, and she asks “what are you doing here Y/N?” 
“I need to talk to Ale” you tell her deciding not to drag this out. 
She crosses her arms over her chest and asks “Why would I let you do that? She shut down and hasn’t said anything for the last weeks and we haven’t seen you, you must have hurt her Y/N.” 
Shaking your head you tell her “I never meant to do that Alba, but I promise I just need to tell her one thing and then I am gone.” You know you sound like your begging and you hope the desperation in your voice helps. 
Before she can respond Alexia shows up at the door behind her sister and says “Alba its okay I got it.” 
Alba turns and looks to her and then turns back to you and says “if you hurt her again I will hurt you.” She finishes with a glare and then moves back into the house. 
Alexia steps outside on the porch with you and softly shuts the door. You take a moment to take her in, knowing this will be the last time you may see the women who has your heart. She’s in her most comfortable state, a pair of footy shorts, a soft hoodie (you note is one of yours) and barefoot.
You both stand there in silence for a minute and she finally breaks it and says “I am not ready to talk to you about it.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I came here to tell you one thing and then I will be out of your hair, you wont need to worry about avoiding me” you tell her softly. 
“what? Y/N whats going on?” she asks softly stepping closer to you. 
You take a step back and say “I’m leaving, I quit the team and I joined the army. I know you don’t understand it but I need to not be here anymore, and I need to do something thats for me, and will ensure I get away from him.” 
She stares at you and doesn’t say anything but a soft “Y/N.”
“No, don’t do that, this isn’t about you this is for me. I love you Alexia and I will always be in love with you but I cant stay on the side line of my own life anymore, I need to become the best person  I can be and get out from this dark cloud that is hanging over here. Its for the best, I cant wait to see you become the superstar I know you will be, but I cant do that here, watching it and knowing that you don’t love me back, that you aren’t in love with me. So this is goodbye Ale” 
You slowly move down the stairs and move to wipe the tears under your eyes, and you make it to the end of the walkway when she moves and says “Don’t just say that and walk away from me Y/N! Thats not fair.” 
You pause and turn your head towards her and says “what’s not fair is losing everything I have ever wanted because I have never been able to lie to you, I am doing something for me and you have to understand that.” 
You don’t let her add or say anything else as you turn your back on her and move to your car, you hop in and start the engine driving away to your new life without looking back. 
8 YEARS LATER
After 8 years of being a proper solider and training to better your self, you were finally able to settle down, and of course Barcelona would always have a hold on your heart. During your basic training your superiors noticed how easy it was for you to learn and communicate in many languages, add in that you knew how to fight and take it hit it made you the perfect soldier for a special ops team. 
During your 8 years of active duty you spent 3 tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and other War torn countries. And when you were not on tour you were either in the UK or the USA learning and bettering your skills to be a better help for the team. It was a long 8 years of constantly being on the go and when an offer came up to go back to Barcelona and be no longer on active duty you took it. 
They wanted your skills to help teach younger inexperienced soldiers and you craved the freedom and your bones ached for a stable home for your self. The Barcelona Police force hired you and were more than happy to have you work for them and also assist the army in their training. 
Barcelona was where you had your own personal demons, and you knew after 8 years of running it was finally time to slow down and face those demons head on. It helped you were much stronger and mentally tougher then when you were 18 and you knew you needed to face them head on. 
What you didn’t expect was to have to face one of them only a month into your new life in Barcelona. You had been out on patrol with your partner and were called to an assault at one of the smaller beaches in town. You got out of the passenger seat of the car and did a scan of the surroundings and you noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sand and one person lying on the ground. 
You met your partners eye and you both walked over, you with your military training on high alert, one hand on the hilt of the gun at your hip, your eyes roaming the surroundings. When you got closer to the crowd you almost stopped, when you noticed who was standing off on the edge of the crowd but you pushed through when you saw the guy on the ground get up and start to run at someone else in the crowd. You and your partner both sprang into action and got in between them and the guy you were holding tried to take a swing at the other and you easily subdued him and had him on his back with his hands locked behind his back in the blink of an eye. 
Once he was secure with the handcuffs on your hip you hopped up and hauled him up with you, you turned and met your partners eyes who nodded at you and had his guy also in cuffs. He turned to the crowd and asked for any witnesses to what happened, as you moved your guy to the car and sat him in the back seat. 
You sat him down and asked him his side of the story. After listening to his side you closed the door and left him in the car as a second patrol car rolled up for the second guy. You nodded to them and mentioned the guy int he back of your car and you walked back to the crowd. You took a deep breath and readied your self to face the first of your demons. 
“Who’s next to be interviewed?” you asked your partner as you walked up beside him, and he pointed to the group of 3 girls to the left.
Moving towards them you introduced your self “Hola, I am Officer Y/L/N and I will need to see your IDs and then I can take your statement.” They all handed their IDs over and as you were matching them and recording their names and information you couldn’t help but take a peak at the women who held your heart. 
You hadn’t seen her since that day 8 years ago on her mothers front steps, you had followed her career and you knew she was in the middle of a miracle season and she was on track to win everything. Seeing her on the computer screen through a grainy stream wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Just looking at her was slowly igniting that spark inside you that you thought you had buried 8 years ago. 
“Can one of you tell me what happened?” you ask them ready to take notes and keep this professional. 
“so basically, we were lying here and the guy in your car came up and started to give us a bit of a hard time, but were used to it. SO we told him to leave us alone, and then the guy there with your partner walked up and tried to defend us, and the other guy just threw a punch at him.” You had their IDs so you knew this was Maria Leon who explained it. 
“they started going at each other and thats when Ale called 911, the commotion drew more people over and they stopped fighting when they had a crowd and then you guys showed up.” Jennifer Hermoso explained the rest to you. 
“thank you, so to be clear, the one in the back of the car threw the first punch and harassed you?” you asked wanting to finish this up. 
Maria smiled and said “I wouldn’t say harassed, we can take care of ourselves, but yes he started it and threw the first punch.”
“And you both agree?” you ask.
“Yep, he did” Jennifer agrees. 
Alexia just nods and remains silent through the whole exchange. You nod and say “okay this clears things up, someone may be in touch but you are free to go.”
The two of them smile and say their thanks and move to leave, but Alexia remains standing in front of you silent. 
“ale you coming?” Jennifer asks her and it seems to shake her out of it and she nods and moves to gather her stuff. 
You nod at nothing and move to go back to your partner, you both agree you to the statement you got from different people and then you move to walk back to the car together. Before you can get half way there you turn back and look toward Alexia and you meet her eyes, as she’s still watching you. 
It takes your partner nudging you for you to break contact and you move to get into the car. before you can fully sit you hear “Officer Y/LN” yelled out behind you and you turn and see Alexia moving quickly towards you, you close the door and step towards her and away from your partner hearing the exchange. 
“Yes Alexia?” you ask her softly as she stops a foot from you. 
“You’re back?” she asks you to the point. 
“I am” 
“for good?” she asks you again straight to the point.
“I think so yeah” 
“okay then.” she says and moves to walk away. 
“thats it?” you ask her confused. 
She shrugs and half turns to you and says “How does it feel being on the other end of someone walking way from you? It sucks, being left to wonder what they mean and what they are going to do.” 
You can feel the pang in your heart listening to how broken she sounds and you ask her “Can we talk about it?” 
“now you want to talk? What happened to talking 8 years ago?” she turns on you half shouting and you know that she’s drawn and scene. 
“ale, please can we talk somewhere not here, and not when I am on duty?” you ask her. 
She looks around and shakes her head and says “you know where to find me, if you even want to.” As she finishes she jogs away towards her friends and you are left standing there wondering if this is a demon you will be able to tame, or if you were doomed to be in love with someone you can never have. 
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luveline · 1 day
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I love your KBD universe, I know that Beth is having a hard time with being the weird kid and I just have to say as a lover of weird things and people I would love to see something where Bethie comes home from school happy to have met someone who LOVES that she’s a little weird!
dad!steve and his weird girls <3 mom!reader, 1k
When you get home from work with the big kids in tow, Steve’s gonna kiss you stupid. With baby Wren gurgling on his tummy and less-baby Dove sitting by his head where he lays on the couch, he’s never been this happy. He’ll be happier when the big girls are home, but for now, he’s snug as a bug, treated by his second youngest to a buffet of affection. 
“Love you,” Dove says, kissing his cheek for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He can’t stop laughing.
“I love you, too!” he says, shifting his hand to give Wren some more room. 
“Love you, dad,” Dove says.
“I know, baby, I know. Thank you for the kisses, you’re so nice.” 
Dove kisses him again. “You’re happy,” she says. 
“So happy. Can I get another kiss, you think?” 
He turns into her. She’s sitting too high to be cuddled; all Steve can do is take in her sweetness. He can’t believe how quickly her babyhood has passed into toddlerhood, and she’s been sort of a nightmare, but she’s also his little girl. She’s your daughter, her sisters’ sister. She was always going to be lovely, and Steve feels it like a loving punch as she noses at his ear. “Daddy,” she laughs, “you’re too warm.” 
“I’m blushing, babe, I’m getting all these nice kisses!” He laughs like an idiot and decides he must hug her, pulling his arm up and scooping her into his chest. 
She groans in annoyance before she realises what he’s doing, “Hug!” she says excitedly. 
“Hug!” he echoes, wrapping his arm around her. She’s starting to look less like a baby and more like a little tiny kid, which he hates and loves at the same time. “Aw, I love you, Dovey.” 
The door clatters open. Wren jumps at the sound, hiding her face in Steve’s neck, to which he gives a good back rubbing. “It’s okay, bubby, it’s just your mommy. Don’t be silly, huh? Just mommy. You’re gonna be happy when she turns the corner.” 
“Shoes,” you’re saying from the door, though Steve can’t see you, he can tell you’re smiling. “Shoes, Beth, then you can tell dad.” 
“Daddy, we’re home!” Avery shouts. 
“I can hear you, babe!” he shouts back, not unkindly. 
“Dad, I have something to tell you!” Beth shouts. 
Steve hoists himself up into a sitting position, two babies in his arms, knowing you’ll know he’s laid down all day from the mess of his hair alone but not trying to hide it. You can do whatever you want on your vacation days, you’d teased. Just make sure you feed the kids.
“Hi,” you say, appearing in the doorway, two balls of energy at your legs that bolt for Steve the second they see him. 
“Girls, I don’t have long enough arms,” he says, trying to cuddle them all, even though it’s impossible. 
He finds himself suddenly relieved of the second youngest. Dove might love her father, but she adores her mother, and she hasn’t seen you all day —she slinks down out of his hold and through the mess of her sisters to grab at you, to which you gratefully receive her, pulling her up to station on your hip. “Hi, gorgeous,” Steve hears you say. Avery pushes him back, climbing into his lap with a happy sigh. “Miss me today? I missed you,” you ask sweetly. 
“What did you want to tell me, Beth?” Steve asks curiously, grinning as Avery makes herself comfortable on his thigh, her arm wrapping behind his neck. He’s happy to see everybody else so happy, even if it’s hectic. 
Beth beams up at him with her brightest smile in weeks. She’s been having such a hard time at school, Steve wondered if he could start homeschooling, coming home upset nearly every other day. It isn’t fair. His relief that she’s had a good day is palpable. 
“Dad, there’s a new girl! Her name is Francesca and she’s got the same birthday as me and guess what!” 
“What?” he asks. 
“She said she likes being weird!” Beth’s eyes glow shiny with joy. “Cos Hilly called me weird, and she said she likes being weird. She said we can be best friends.” Beth hits his knee in her excitement. “She liked me, dad.” 
“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he asks, wondering how old he’ll have to be before he stops tearing up at Beth’s good heart. He blinks quickly to dispel any tears before they can gather. “Her name is Francesca? When did she move? Do you think she wants to come for dinner?” 
Your laugh is a snort. “Steve.” 
“What? Friends come for dinner. Best friends! Did you speak to her mom?” he asks you. 
“I didn’t see her.” 
“Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll speak to her in the morning. We’ll see if they want to come for dinner or go swimming or something.” 
Beth’s smile gets wider, “Really?” 
“Yeah, really!” He gives Avery a little shake. “Did you meet Francesca?” 
Avery nods. “She’s pale and she has big hair. Curly hair, too.” Her voice is a tad scratched, perhaps from the cold out. 
Steve lets his weight fall into the arm, cautious not to squish your baby, a grin on his face to rival Beth’s. She gets the memo and climbs up, claiming that last bit of space under the baby to hug his stomach. He tries to wrap them all up, gurgly Wren, exuberant Beth, and poor cold Avery. “You coming?” he asks you. 
There’s dinner to make. You ignore it, crossing the mess of the living room to flop down on the couch next to them all. Steve lifts his face in that way you always recognise, and is pleased as punch when you peck him quickly. 
You don’t realise how Steve thinks of you, he’d say. Don’t realise he wants another kiss, then another, that you’re on his mind when you aren’t there, and dominate it when you are. He loves his babies, but he loves you too. He wants another kiss. 
“Steve,” you scold lightly, surprised as he presses two kisses to the corner of your mouth. 
“Sorry. Beth, tell me more about Francesca. What did she say exactly?” 
Beth takes a deep breath. 
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lowgothree · 2 days
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜
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chapter no. 000!          
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𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637
𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!
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THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 
but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 
but it wasn’t enough anymore. 
perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 
“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 
you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”
“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 
“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 
paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 
“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”
“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.
“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.
“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”
she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.
so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”
she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.
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dixons-sunshine · 2 days
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I love your Daryl x reader stories
I wanted to ask if you could write sth about Daryl x fempolish reader. Like maybe they meet in Alexandria and she made him some polish food he loved or just some love short story. I don't know it's up to you.
Have a great day
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Just Try It | Daryl Dixon x Polish!Fem!Reader
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*GIF and moodboard aren't mine.*
Summary: After finding all the ingredients needed to make one of your cultural dishes, you decide to make it when Carol invited you and Daryl over. However, you never suspected a man that ate snakes on the regular would be so skeptical when it came to food.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: The Commonwealth.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 932.
A/n: Thank you so much for helping me with the translations @mawidixon! I hope you like this! (Translations will be at the bottom.)
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“Nah, it looks weird as shit. Ain't gon' eat it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, huffing in frustration. “Kochanie, I've seen you eat a snake before. We've had to eat literal dog meat before. How the hell are you picky about this? It's just Pierogi. I've eaten this many times before the world ended. It won't kill you.”
Daryl peered over your shoulder, looking at the Pierogi that you were busy frying in a pan. His eyes were carefully following your movements, skeptical about the dish you were preparing. Carol had invited you and the kids over for dinner and had asked you to prepare Pierogi, and you had agreed rather ecstatically. It was rare for you to be able to make one of your traditional dishes, so you had jumped at the opportunity to do so.
“Why would ya boil it and then fry it? Seems fuckin' unnecessary if ya ask me,” Daryl replied skeptically, slightly scrunching his nose. “And the mashed potatoes? Why would ya wrap dough 'round it? Ya could jus' eat it as is. No need to go makin' dough outta flour and ruinin' mashed potatoes by wrappin' it 'round it. S'a waste of cheese, too, addin' it in.”
You clicked your tongue and carefully took the pan from the hot fire, and placed it onto a rag on the counter as to not burn the pristine laminate countertop. You turned to Daryl, your eyebrows raised questioningly. “Be honest with me right now, Dixon. Have you ever actually had Pierogi before?”
Daryl immediately shook his head. “Nah,” he told you, crossing his arms over his chest.
You hummed and nodded, turning to the bowl that had the Pierogi that you had made earlier. You grabbed the lukewarm Pierogi and extended it towards your partner, laughing at the face he made at it.
“Twój wyraz twarzy jest przeuroczy,” you mused, laughing harder at the confused face he made. “Before you ask what I said, it's not important. What is important, however, is you trying this. It's delicious and I can't have you thinking that eating squirrel meat is better than this.”
Daryl reluctantly took the dumpling, holding it gingerly between his fingers. “'Least m'familiar with squirrel meat. Know it ain't gon' taste any different each time.”
“Nie możesz zawsze jeść tylko wiewiórek,” you muttered under your breath, before shaking your head and sending Daryl an amused smile. “Daryl, stop being so stubborn. Po prostu spróbuj.”
Daryl grumbled something under his breath before looking at you again. “Nie chcę.”
“As impressed as I am that you understood me and that you managed to reply, saying something in my language won't sway me.”
Daryl shot you a small smirk. “Worth a shot,” he replied, before hesitantly taking a bite of the Pierogi.
You watched in amusement as a whirlwind of emotions played on his face. First skepticism, then surprise, and then he looked impressed. He practically devoured the rest of the dumpling in hungry bites, reaching for another one in the bowl, but you stopped him.
“Nope. I can't allow you to do that, misiu. The rest is for tonight,” you told him with a smile. “I can't disappoint Carol now, can I? She was eager about this the whole day. You only just came around about this. I'd rather give these to someone who's had faith in me from the start.”
“C'mon, tha' ain't fair,” Daryl groaned. “Merle once said tha' these things tasted like crap. Went into vivid detail 'bout how it tasted, too. Can't blame me fer not trustin' it.”
You giggled and shook your head. “You should've had more trust in me. I've been making these things since I was a kid. I'd never intentionally make you eat something bad,” you told him, before placing the lid onto the bowl and handing it to the archer. “Here, why don't you go ahead and take this to Carol? She's expecting us.”
Daryl took the bowl from you. “What about ya, robaczku? RJ and Judith are waitin' fer their auntie.”
You smiled at the nickname he had picked up from you, and motioned towards the dumplings still in the hot pan. “I'm just gonna wrap these up and put them away. I'll be right behind you.”
Daryl nodded and leaned forward to place a quick kiss to your lips. He soon pulled away and started walking away, calling to you over his shoulder. “Jus' so ya know, those are mine. Judith and RJ dun' need to know 'bout those.”
You laughed and called out to him. “So, are Pierogi's better than squirrel meat?”
Daryl paused at the doorway and contemplated on how to respond. He smirked to himself as he looked down at the bowl in his hand. “I'll let the kids decide tha', sunshine. I love ya.”
“I want an answer from you!”
The door shutting was the only response you got in return. You looked down at the pan and shook your head. There was never a dull moment with your beloved huntsman.
“Ja też cię kocham, you asshole,” you mused with a laugh.
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Translations:
Kochanie: Honey.
Twój wyraz twarzy jest przeuroczy: Your facial expression is adorable.
Nie możesz zawsze jeść tylko wiewiórek: You can't always only eat squirrels.
Po prostu spróbuj: Just try it.
Nie chcę: I don't want to.
misiu: teddy bear.
robaczku: love bug.
Ja też cię kocham: I love you too.
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danisbrainrot · 2 days
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tell your boyfriend
natalie scatorccio x reader
warnings: cheating (sorry not sorry, travis), reader being a shitty person, angst
ever since I found out this song was actually about a woman, I don't know why, but I immediately thought of nat. I can't explain it LMFAO.
it had been weeks since the plane crashed, and the team was condemned to suffering in the wilderness. it was lucky lottie had found the cabin in the first place, but as you swung the axe high in the air, before bringing it down with a resounding crack, you started to wonder if life would've been better if you died in the crash.
you were starving, delirious and weak. there was no sign of a rescue team—who knows how long you'd have to spend out here. watching natalie and travis walking back, hand in hand, you felt yourself growl quietly to yourself. it wasn't fair that travis, who'd never talked to nat before the crash was dating her, but you—who'd loved her for years—were forced to watch from arms length. the sight wasn't made any better when you noticed the absence of meat.
everyone was teasing the two of them, causing you to storm off into the forest. you couldn't help but find everything unfair. falling for a girl who liked a boy—knowing if you were a boy, she'd love you.
kicking over a pile of leaves, you took out your anger on the forest. you hadn't even noticed natalie, until you almost pegged a rock at her (you'd meant to get the log). "oh my god, I'm sorry nat," you exclaimed, running towards her to see if she was okay.
she snorts, moving closer to you. "feeling hangry?" she teased, taking a seat on the log you were aiming at previously. you sarcastically laugh in response, taking a seat next to her.
"joke all you want, if you spent less time fucking travis and more time looking for animals, I wouldn't be destroying the forest," you snap, feeling your stomach begin growling. nat's eyebrow raised teasingly, eyes pointed at your tummy. it's timing was uncanny.
"we're not fucking," natalie replied, making your heart race in excitement. "I mean, I'd like to. . . but he can't get it up."
knowing this was your chance, you took advantage of this information. "maybe he's gay?" you reply, trying to sound as earnest as you can. you nudge her side, "no straight man could resist you," you wink at her teasingly, receiving a soft shove to your shoulder.
"I've always trusted your gaydar. . . but I don't think this is it," she mumbles in response, leaning forward and placing her chin in her hands.
there was a beat of silence, as you desperately try to come up with a plausible explanation to break them up. "you could always ask coach, I'm sure he'd know all about gays," you joke.
nat turned her head slightly to face you, "you're right. maybe I should—" your heart sank, realising that she was seriously thinking about it.
"have you thought that maybe he's interested in someone else? and you're just a distraction," you blurted out, wishing you could take it back immediately.
nat scoffed, standing up, "yeah, thanks. that makes me feel fucking fantastic," she snapped, stomping away.
"nat! I'm sorry!" you called out, but she ignored you.
«—(♥)—»
later that night, you found yourself in the storage room, with your stomach growling. you knew that mari was hiding some berries in here and you were so hungry that you no longer cared about stealing.
the sound of creaking behind you made you jump in fright, whipping around to let out some excuse when you realised it was just natalie. "oh, I thought you were mari," you mumble, turning back to continue your quest.
"looking for her secret stash?" she asked, you tried to work out if her tone was curious or teasing. "it's behind the box there."
when she pointed in the direction, you side eyed her, wondering how he knew where it was. glad that she'd shown you, you decided not to ask. you pulled out a large white bucket and hungrily opened the lid, only to be disappointed at the contents. "she's letting them ferment?"
you turn to face natalie, who shrugs, "it's not that bad. it's pretty strong though, just made purely out of berries, makes you get drunk quicker," she explains; you snort at her, shaking your head.
"you'd have a lot of experience with being drunk," you snipe.
"hilarious, you know you're so funny, you should think about joining snl," she replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.
you sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I'm so hungry, nat. I can't keep living like this," you whisper, on the verge of tears.
natalie sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "it'll be okay, I promise. travis and I are heading to a new place tomorrow, we'll find deer there, I'm sure," she soothes. you lay your head on her shoulder, playing with her hand on your thigh.
"a new place to hunt? or a new place to fuck?" you snapped.
narrowing her eyes at you, she scoffed and got up, "you know, I liked that you weren't like the others, that you never slutshamed me. . . I guess you're just like the rest of them," she replied, leaving you alone.
you knew it was stupid to take your unrequited feelings out on her, especially because she didn't owe you romantic love. however, it killed you watching her fall in love with travis—and the hunger eating you away wasn't making you a nicer person either.
tentatively scooping some of the berry juice in your hand, sipping it, when you heard mari approaching. in a panic, you'd never put something away so quickly.
«—(♥)—»
natalie trudged through the forest with travis in defeat; the gun slung over her shoulder serving as a reminder of her duty as hunter—a duty she was failing. their eyes were still peeled for any deer, hopeful for any last minute catches. however, it seemed like all the animals in the forest knew about their plans.
groaning, nat put her head in her hands and sat on the log. "this is fucking stupid," she grumbles, ignoring travis as he took a seat next to her.
"maybe we should stay put here, just for a little while," he suggests, his thigh brushing against hers. nat rested her chin against her knees and offered him a weak smile.
neither of them noticed you, hiding in the bushes, having given up scavenging for berries. they'd been gone for three hours, leaving everyone else in the cabin to search for food—and for what? it seemed no one would be eating anything. . . meat or fruit. the disappointing view of just the two of them made your stomach growl, reminding you of how long you've gone without eating something substantial.
stepping on a twig accidentally, you winced as both their heads snap in your direction. "you're following us now? disappointed to see we aren't having sex?" natalie sniped, getting up and walking towards you.
showing off your basket, you know that she wouldn't believe you even if it's true. "just hunting for berries, figured they were further out than usual," you mumble, taking a step back the closer she got.
it wasn't until you were both face to face, your chest heaving and trying to look tough, that natalie smirked. "I get it, you're hungry, but you don't have to follow us," she teased.
you rolled your eyes, "travis, can you give us a moment?" you asked, your heart racing as you come to terms with what you're about to do.
travis scoffs, looking at nat for confirmation, who only gestured for him to return to the cabin. in shock, he sent her an odd look, before standing up, and walking away silently.
natalie turned to face you again, "what did you want to talk about?"
"i wanted to apologise. you're right, I shouldn't be slutshaming you because I'm hungry. . ." you pause, wondering whether or not you should continue. desperate to tell her about your feelings, you could feel your heartbeat raising impossibly fast. "it's actually so stupid—the real reason I was mad at you."
natalie raised her eyebrows teasingly, placing her hands on her waist and smirking at you. "let me guess, the real reason is that you like me?" you stare at her stunned, "please, you don't think I know? I'm not Jackie," she laughs. you feel a blush coming across your cheeks.
sliding her thumb through your jean loops, nat pulled you closer to her, until your chest was pressed against hers. "how'd you find out?" you whisper, looking up at her in awe.
"because I may or may not feel the same about you," she mumbles, her lips inches from yours.
"what about travis?" you ask; nat shrugs in response, finally pressing her lips against yours. initially, you freeze, not kissing her back, until she gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place, encouraging you to kiss her back passionately.
wrapping your hands around her neck, natalie pulls away for a second, "I should probably tell my boyfriend," she whispers. you raise your eyebrows in shock.
"tell him what? that I'm your girlfriend now?" you teased, eliciting laughter from the blonde. she nodded, before placing her fingers under your chin and pulling you in for another kiss.
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papercorgiworld · 8 hours
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Hi lovely! I wanted to see if you'd take requests for James Potter 🤭 I'm not entirely sure if you do yet so I shall wait for your response 😊 I hope you have or have had a great day 💓
Darling, James Potter is the one who dragged me down to the world of Tumblr back in the day... He's like my origin story. So yes, I do take requests for James, but it might take a decade. And since you had to wait for like an eternity to get a response I offer you a light reading snack as an apology. Happy readings! Have a lovely day!
“I dare you to steal his clothes”
This will forever be one of my favourite scenarios to write and I planned on writing the marauders right after the slytherin boys but never got to it until now. I proudly present you the James Potter version.
A little game of truth or dare escalates when Lilly dares you to steal James’ clothes. 
Warning: smut
Find the slytherin boys version here.
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You were sitting in the Gryffindor common room. It was late and the party was dying down but your friends refused to go to their dorms.
“Truth or dare?” Lily asks as she tries to focus on you but she’s clearly too drunk to manage that. 
“Dare.”
Lily tries to get her brain to come up with a good dare, something fun. It is then that she sees a certain marauder holding a towel and heading for the bathroom. 
“I dare you to steal James’ clothes!” Lily’s voice is filled with excitement and her eyes sparkle with mischief. 
Your eyes widen. You had had a crush on James since the start of the year. Though he still acted like a child most of the time you suddenly saw something very mature and attractive in him. Yet you decide against making a move after all it was James Potter and you were just a friend of Lily’s. 
“I can’t.” You immediately argue and Lily wiggles her eyebrows. “Are you refusing a dare?”
… And that’s how you ended up here, slowly pushing open the door to the boys bathroom. You were relieved to find that the bathroom was empty aside from James under the shower, happily humming a gryffindor victory song. 
Quiet as a mouse you sneak in and close the door, crouching down to make sure that if James would turn around he wouldn’t notice you. You scan the room for his clothes to find his shirt hanging on a statue, his socks left and right of the room and pants together with the rest hanging on a chair. You sigh and tiptoe from one piece of clothing to another.
James’ tie falls when you reach for one of his socks and you curse under your breath as you struggle to hold all his clothes. 
“What the-” You jump when you hear James and look up to meet his eyes. “Oh hi.” You blur out and he smiles, but also looks at you questioningly. “What are you doing?” You laugh nervously and are about to explain that Lily dared you to steal his clothes when your eyes fall down. You’re at a loss for words as you fail to pull your gaze away from his member. 
For a moment James is embarrassed, but his cocky side takes over pretty quickly. “Want to join me in the shower. I could wash you head to toe.” It takes a second for you to process his words, but when you finally look away from his size you notice his smug smile and cheeky eyes focused on you. It’s then that you remember your mission and realise that you should absolutely not be in the situation.
Still not able to properly communicate due to the shock your flight response kicks in. You quickly pick up his tie and sock before running towards the statue where James’ shirt is hanging. “Oh. No! Not happening!” James yells when he realises why you were here. Without thinking the situation through a naked James runs after you to keep you from stealing his shirt and running out with all his clothes. 
You manage to grab his shirt but lose his pants in the process when you try to go back and reach for it James catches you. You feel your shirt dampen as he presses you against his still wet chest. “Hah. Gotcha. What are you gonna do now?” James mocks and in a split second your brain decides that the best tactic is one of surprise.
James feels your soft lips on his and instinctively relaxes, kissing you back gently, but as he does so he also releases his grip on you allowing you to run again. “Really!” James complains, but he quickly moves when he notices you’re heading for the door. 
Two arms wrap around you tightly and you stumble. You both struggle and fight for his clothes, making you both fall on top of one another. 
Just at that exact moment the door swings open. 
You proudly raise your hand holding James’ tie. “I got his tie that has to count.” Lily smirks at your happy face and obliviousness to the position you were in. “I like a girl that’s dedicated.” Marlene raises her eyebrows smugly at Lily’s words as she scans the scene. You, perfectly seated on James’ middle, conveniently covering up all things interesting about James Potter. James looks at you with heart eyes as his tie hangs on your finger. Merlin, you looked adorable. So proud of your achievement. “Who doesn’t like a girl that’s dedicated to a dare.” James’ rather arrogant tone has you looking at him and you instantly feel your body heat up now that you’ve finally realised how this must look, you on top of him. Your first reaction is to move away from James to put some distance between you two, but James is quick to grab your hips and keep you seated on him as a measure to keep his manhood covered. Marlene and Lily snort at James who had a little hard attack at almost being exposed. As proud as he was of himself he did not need all of Hogwarts discussing his size because of two gossip girls.
“If you two could excuse us, we’re in the middle of something.” James finally says gesturing at the awkward position you and James were in. “We can see that.” Giggling, your two friends leave the bathroom and now you’re suddenly unable to make eye contact with James. When you try to lift your hips off of him James tightens his grip. “Where do you think you’re going?” James asks suggestively. Your cheeks are burning and it takes a lot of effort to keep your wit. “I managed my dare so there’s really, definitely, nothing interesting for me here.” James nods, but his smirk tells you that he isn’t buying it. “You’re overselling it.” He pushes himself up a bit more so his chest almost meets yours. He gently cups your cheek, but you still refuse to meet his eyes, so he playfully bucks his hips upwards. You place a hand on his chest to keep yourself from falling into him as a soft yelp escapes you and James loves that sound in more than one way as well as your touch on his chest. With your lips still slightly parted James sees an opportunity to bring his lips to yours. Never had you experienced a kiss so passionate and yet so sweet. James was a damn good kisser and you couldn’t resist any longer. 
Your hands landed on his shoulders for support as the kiss got more intense. Hungry breathy sounds escape James and have you softly moan against his lips. James’ hands find their way under your shirt, but he’s quick to ask for more, gently moving to the buttons. “James…” You try to protest but the way he tenderly sucks on your neck before leaving featherlight kisses has you falling silent. “I dare you…” he pushes your shirt aside to trace kisses from your shoulder to your chest. “to trust me…” he tears a few buttons to finally fully get rid of your shirt. “ and let me…” he grabs a handful of your still covered boob, before quickly pulling you close and rolling so you’re now underneath him. “fuck you all night long.” 
Word count: 1292
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silvermoon-scrolls · 2 days
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So Dean knows about the @deanobingo event (kinda). And he did kind of challenge us to try to write about an as obscure character as possible, mentioning a Snacker bar commercial he did when he was 12.
So here you go. ~700 words inspired by combining ‘Snacker-bar-commecial kid’ with the bingo prompt ‘Bro code / Girl code’. Of course set in the late 80s/early 90s. ^^
--
The wind whips through Billy’s hair as his skateboard zigzags down the street. A good thing it’s downhill all the way to the arcade. A hella slog back home though. 
After taking a sharp turn he automatically sticks one hand in the front pocket of his hoodie to make sure he still has his Snacker bar. Wouldn’t wanna lose that.
As the arcade comes into view, he immediately recognizes Jessie standing outside waiting for him, but it takes him a moment longer to identify whom it is he’s talking to. Billy lets out a low whistle when he realizes that it's Amy – Jessie’s longtime crush.
But considering the way Amy keeps looking over her shoulder like she’s searching for an escape route, it doesn't look like it’s going too well. Time for a distraction.
Kicking up his speed, Billy sets his sight on the curb. At the last moment he pops the board off the ground, turns it, and slides along the curve. Jumping off right next to Jessie and flipping the board up into his hands. He can’t help himself from grinning wildly. “What’s up?”
“Wicked trick,” Amy says, inspecting Billy and his skateboard appreciatively.
Billy’s grin fades a little when he notices Jessie’s disappointment at having his crush once again forget him. Oops. Thinking on his feet, Billy smiles widely. “Yeah, Jessie taught me that one.” He slaps his friend on the back for good measure.
“Really? I didn’t know you were good with a board,” Amy says with an impressed smile, her attention back on Jessie.
A little caught off guard, Jessie still rolls with it fairly well. “Ehem, yeah. I don't like showing off, you know,” he explains only a little hesitantly, trying to wave it away.
“Too bad. I think it would be fun to watch.” The hint of a teasing smile she bestows on Jessie is apparently enough for him to drown in those big, brown eyes of hers because he’s just standing there smiling stupidly while she holsters her bag as if to go.
Billy elbows Jessie out of his stupor. “You wanna hang together at the arcade?” he finally blurts out. “We could talk more about skating?”
Amy shrugs. “I don’t really know much about skateboarding,” she says noncommittally. “Except the music is really rad.”
“Oh!” Jessie’s eyes light up – Billy recognizes his geek mode activating. “I just put together this new tape,” Jessie exclaims excitedly. He slings off his backpack and starts rummaging through it. “It’s got all these sick beats I caught on this new radio station I discovered.” He brings up his walkman. “Maybe-- maybe we could go to the park and listen to it?”
To Billy’s astonishment it looks like Amy really is considering it, though Jessie’s hopeful smile begins to fade a little when her answer drags a little too long. 
“I can’t,” she finally says. She actually looks genuinely sorry. “I have band practice later and I need to get home and grab something to eat.”
"Oh." Jessie lets out a disappointed sigh.
Bummer. So close. Billy chews the inside of his lip, but decides that Jessie is worth it. “No way!” he exclaims, pointing at something behind Amy. “Do you see that?”
The moment Amy turns around to look, Billy quickly fishes out the Snacker bar from his pocket, holding it up for Jessie to see, before dropping it into Jessie’s open backpack and gesturing with his eyes towards Amy.
“What? I don’t see anything,” Amy says, turning back.
“Oh, I thought I saw a cat with a top hat. My bad.” Billy gives her his most innocent smile, which only earns him a totally weirded out look in return.
Jessie hurriedly bends down to search his bag once more. “Uhm. What if we could eat at the park? I’ve got a Snacker we could share.” Jessie holds up his prize.
“Oh. Okay!” Amy says smiling, clearly won over by the promise of a delicious snack. 
Jessie is grinning from ear to ear. “You don’t mind, do you Billy?” he asks.
“‘Cause not,” Billy assures him. Mates looks after each other.
Besides, he’s got more bars at home.
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kedreeva · 8 months
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FINALLY managed to get a photo of her adorable little pink chelicerae!!!
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X for all his flaws is actually an amazing uncle to Midori. They recently met by accident (Midori was taking out the trash, X was outside trying to find L.L., after finding out who x was Midori invited x to wait inside and x awkwardly agreed because how enthusiastic and respectful she was being) and their time together proved to be rather enjoyable for them both.
I think Midori would even call him Batsu-San as a nickname since that's x in Japanese. She did go back on it after she was like wait that means Wrong I didn't mean to be rude 😦 but X was like no no, I like it..!
Also Hans is also like kind of an uncle to her so now Midori has her two epic uncles who hate each other very much and act very weird when they happen to be on the same room 👍
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
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luvrxbunny · 6 months
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so much
pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader
summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i blacked out again. 
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Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 
This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 
Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 
“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 
“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 
“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 
“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”
(“... So fucking bad but…”)
Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   
What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…
“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”
Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’
The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 
He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”
“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 
You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.
(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)
“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 
“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 
("... strange, abnormal,")
“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”
He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.
("No matter what I do.")
“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 
You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 
“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”
(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)
You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 
You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”
(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)
You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 
“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.
He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 
You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.
You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 
“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 
(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)
(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 
(‘I love that.”)
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thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!
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sungbeam · 2 months
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𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧
nonidol!choi san x gn!reader (no prns mentioned)
turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.
3.7k words, neighbors au (2 lovers), fluff, maybe like two swear words, drinking, lots of mentions of food
a/n: low-key just read this like ur watching the highlight reel of a romcom lol but @jaehunnyy for u 💖 i hope u like it :'))
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It all started about seven months ago when a gorgeous Thai cat waltzed into your apartment via the open window. It was a late July afternoon, stifling hot and sticky, meaning you had your window opened and the mobile fan set up to blow cool air into the apartment.
You were, for once, not at work. Because the art museum you worked at downtown was currently undergoing reconstruction, you were stuck in your apartment trying (failing) to sell prints off your low-traffic Etsy shop while also trying (failing) to make popsicles.
“Why is this so complicated?” You grumbled aloud as you sat on top of your kitchen counter with your knees pulled beneath your chin. You scrolled down the recipe again on your laptop screen, nose wrinkled at the amount of convoluted steps listed. “Too fancy,” you decided, slamming your laptop lid closed.
Immediately, you hissed, lifting the lid to make sure you hadn't cracked the screen from closing it too hard. Thankfully, there were no cracks visible and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You could not afford a broken—
“Holy shit!” You nearly fell off the back of the island counter at the sight of a light gray cat with black tipped ears, paws, and tail seated on the floor before you.
The cat meowed an innocent greeting.
You pressed your hand to your hammering heart and shifted to get a grip on your position atop the counter. “How—? Where…?” Your eyes drifted to the open window.
Oh. Well, that would explain it.
You glanced back at the cat, who peered up at you once more. “Meow.”
Carefully, you climbed down from the counter as to not scare the creature with any sudden movements. “Hey, baby. Where did you come from, hm?” You cooed, extending your hand out as an offer to be sniffed.
The cat unfurled its tail out from around its body and crept toward your hand. With an experimental sniff, you were deemed safe, and the cat rubbed the side of its face affectionately against the back of your knuckles.
Your chest nearly exploded from the cute interaction. You lowered yourself to your knees, gently taking a peek at the silver charm attached around the collar. There you found the engraving of a star in the metal circle.
“I'm guessing this has something to do with your name?” You hummed, reaching up to scratch the feline behind the ears and head. At least you had an inkling that this little one belonged to someone. You just didn't know how to find out who they were.
“I guess you can hang out with me,” you sighed and stood up with your hands on your hips. You didn't mind the company, after all, and maybe this could be a point of inspiration.
About three hours later, the summer sun still hung relatively high in the sky and you were trying to figure out what to feed the cat when there came a sudden knock at your front door. Really, the “sudden knock” was a series of rushed, panicked DUDUDUDU sounds. You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time in one afternoon, and even the cat seemed to leap.
Well, the cat only looked mildly annoyed that her nap was interrupted, but she seemed content to give a languid stretch and join you in seeing who was so alarmed at your door.
When you peered out the peephole, your eyes shot open.
There was a pretty man at your door.
You glanced down at the cat who looked back up at you. You mouthed to her, pointing at the door, ‘Do you know this guy?’
As expected, she did not answer. Lovely.
You weren't exactly in appropriate garb to see people. You had thrown on something cool enough to not make you melt like one of the popsicles you weren't able to make earlier, and enough to cover any necessary areas. You were sure your hair looked about as luxurious as a barn, and there wasn't a lick of cosmetics on your face.
It was fine, you told yourself. You probably weren't even going to see this guy ever again.
You opened the door. “Hello? Can I help you?” You asked through the chain linking the door shut.
The man flashed you a flustered, dimpled smile at you. His dark hair was damp, like he just came out of a shower, and he had on a muscle tee that was definitely doing its job, and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hi! So sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've seen a Thai cat wandering around here about yea high—?”
“Meow.” The cat at your feet shoved her way between the gap you made with the door and out into the hallway.
Your eyes widened another smidge, until the man outside released a gasp of relief and bent down to scoop the feline up into his arms. You unlatched your door and opened it fully now, the man holding the cat to his face as if he was communicating with her telepathically.
“That's the cat, I'm guessing?” You mused.
He tucked her back into his arm and his smile became sheepish. “Yes, I am so sorry about her. I came back home from work and she wasn't in the apartment, but thank you for dealing with her for however long she was here.”
You waved off his concern with your hand, sending him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. She's adorable. What's her name, by the way?”
“Oh, this is Byeol,” he cooed, lifting Byeol's paw up to wave at you.
Swoon. Your smile widened as you waved back at them both. “Well, it was nice to meet you, both Byeol and…?”
“San,” he answered. God, he was gorgeous. That smile… “And you are?”
“Yn.” You shook each other's hands in the dim hallway light.
“Nice to meet you, too, Yn.” He lit up, pointing up to the ceiling. “Hey, I'm pretty sure I'm your upstairs neighbor!”
You opened the door to your apartment wider so you could show him your open window. “Well, that would definitely explain how she got down onto my fire escape,” you chuckled.
He whistled lowly. “Man, cats are scary sometimes. I'll definitely try to keep an eye on whenever she's near my window now.” He ran the back of his knuckles down Byeol's spine. “I don't wanna take up any more of your time, but thanks again.”
“No worries! Have a nice night.”
“You too!”
San began walking back toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and you were about to close the door when you thought you heard him chastising his cat in hushed tones. You laughed to yourself as you locked up your front door. You wouldn't mind if Byeol came traipsing down your fire escape again.
And she would. About three times a week when San had a later shift at the boxing gym he worked at (yes, a boxing gym… good lord). Byeol oftentimes expected you to have your window open, and if you didn't already have it open, she would sit out on the fire escape until you did.
Two months into the fire escape escapades, you gave up and left the window open just enough for her to squeeze through while you returned to work.
San would always come down to your apartment to retrieve her, and at some point, decided to swing by your apartment on his way up instead just to make sure she wasn't already here.
By month four when the days were shorter and the nights dragged longer and colder, you couldn't exactly keep the window open, lest you wanted to freeze your ass off in the safety of your apartment. Byeol would hop down the fire escape in the evenings when you were back so you could let her in, only for her owner to come barreling down the stairs, dimpled cheeks flushed and exasperated.
“I swear she likes you more than me,” he guffawed from where he stood out in the hallway as he always did. He shook his head as he watched the Thai feline waltz around his legs once, then circle back into your apartment. He arched a brow at her. “Look at her strutting. She knows exactly what she's doing.”
You swore there was a dash of red gracing his cheekbones now.
You bit your lip through a smile. “Well, you're welcome to come in. I was just about to eat dinner and I don't really think I can finish this roast chicken alone.”
“Ah, I don't really wanna impose,” he drawled, scratching the back of his neck and peering at you from beneath those lengthy lashes of his. He knew what he was doing—he had to know what he was doing. If Byeol could strut, then so could Choi San.
He promised to take you up on your offer as long as you let him run upstairs to grab a bottle of wine to contribute.
The last thing you expected to happen was to hear a knock on your window less than ten minutes later. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, folding over in laughter when you saw him waving to you on the other side with cold-bitten cheeks and a red-tipped nose. He clutched a bottle of red in one hand and gestured furiously to the window latch. “It's fucking freezing!”
“Okay, okay,” you grinned, walking over to let him inside. “Just so you know,” you said as Byeol welcomed her owner into your apartment, “usually it's just cats who come in this way.”
“Well, you might have to get used to a cat and a human coming in now,” he teased. San presented you the wine bottle with a flourish. “Milady, your beverage.”
“Why, thank you, good sir,” you jested and accepted the offering. “Make yourself at home!”
What you didn't expect was for such a statement to be taken so literally, and yet, you had no complaints.
Three months further along—making it seven in total since that first hot July day Byeol came in through the open window—you and San (and Byeol) were cooped up in your apartment as usual. It was a Friday night with dinner on the table, a TV show playing in the background, and a pair of wine glasses for the pair of you. Over the past few months, sharing a dinner together had become a weekly event wherein San would come in via window, and the two of you would have the evening together.
Sometimes it was just dinner, sometimes it was dinner and a movie, and sometimes it was even dinner, a movie, and drunk Pictionary. But every Friday night was yours and San's night.
Plus, he turned out to be a much better cook, so you definitely couldn't argue when he somehow wrestled his entire Le Creuset pot down the fire escape to feed you the most divine lobster mac 'n’ cheese you had ever tasted. (As if you'd ever had lobster mac 'n’ cheese before…)
“I feel like it would just be more convenient if I came up to your apartment instead,” you said with enthusiasm, your free arm flailing around as you melted dark chocolate on a double boiler upon the stove top. While San had the right side of the stove for his chicken and gnocchi soup, you had the left to prepare tonight's mousse for dessert. If San made dinner, you figured you could at least learn a thing or two about a dessert course.
He chuckled, “I mean, I'm not opposed if you ever get tired of hosting. I'm kind of a creature of habit though, which is why I don't mind coming down every week, but it's up to you, sweets.”
Oh, right. And the nickname. You couldn't even pinpoint when that started, but again, you weren't complaining.
“I don't mind hosting either,” you told him, “it's just that it's either you leave your super expensive cookware here or I go upstairs. I don't think Le Creuset has fire escape insurance.”
“You're not wrong about that.” You felt his hand gently brush against your waist as he slipped past you to get to the spice cabinet on your left. “Behind you,” he murmured by your ear before grabbing the jar of Himalayan salt (also his) and returning to his station behind his pot.
You couldn't deny the pitter-patter of your heart around him either. Things were coming to a point that you didn't know how to label. But perhaps that was the beauty of everything slipping into place. You carried on, “I think I've seen your apartment once, and that was when Byeol wouldn't stop meowing until I followed you guys.” You laughed to yourself at the memory. That had been an interesting night.
“If it's any consolation, your apartment has much more life in it than mine.”
“That's a lie,” you said pointedly. “Yours is just more meticulous.”
He snorted. “Meticulous. Might as well be as barren as a clinic.”
You passed him a glance. “I offered to paint your walls…”
San beamed back at you, dimples creating divots in the apples of his cheeks. “And I never said no! But—I do think that it should be something the both of us do together.”
Your brows creased as you took the chocolate off the stove to fold into the other mixture you'd set aside. “You wanna paint with me?”
“Yeah,” he said, almost bashfully. “I think it'd be a fun bonding and learning experience. And it would be cool to see you in your element, besides when you're drunk.”
The latter comment had you turning away to laugh. “Fair enough.”
When dinner was ready to be dined, and the mousse was freezing in the fridge, you and San sat at the kitchen island with your matching bowls of hot soup and glasses of lemon water for the night. Neither of you had remembered to buy wine for the week (surprisingly), but one week without alcohol wouldn't hurt.
The two of you clinked your glasses together, toasting to another week survived.
You took a sip, then spooned the soup into your mouth, wiggling around on your stool in a little happy dance as the flavors did their own dance on your tongue.
San smiled around his own bite. He swallowed, then said, “You know, I always know I did well when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“That cute little dance,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it tastes good, is what I'm saying, sweets.”
Your skin warmed, and you managed to convince yourself it was the soup or the heater or something and not the beautiful man beside you. “Then get used to the happy jig, because everything you cook tastes divine. You should be a chef, San.”
“I could've,” he shrugged, “but I kind of like this little life.” He gestured to you with his spoon, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don't you?”
For a moment, you let the smile slowly unfurl onto your lips. You lifted your own spoon in agreement. “You're right. It's a lovely, little life.”
Now that you were in agreement, you fell into a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your dinner in one another's presence. Byeol was hunched over her own bowl of food just by the foot of your stool, against the adjacent side of the island. You'd gone out and bought her a pair of food and water bowls, as well as her preferred food. San had been touched by the gesture, and Byeol most definitely appreciated it.
San wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, by the way, next week.”
You hummed. “What about it?”
“Are you doing anything?”
You perked up, eyebrows lifting to your hairline. “Why do you ask?” It was usually unsaid by now that Friday nights were set aside for the two of you to share an evening, which was why you were confused by his question.
And then he explained, “It's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to make sure I didn't interrupt or assume anything.” He'd said it so casually and easily that you nearly missed the slight nervousness in his voice, or the minor intonation of hope. “I mean,” he fumbled, “if you do have something planned, then it's no worries, really. There are plenty of other weeks—”
You shook your head, finishing off your water after having scraped your bowl clean. “I'm not doing anything,” you said. “Well, besides what we usually do.” You chuckled to yourself, “To be honest, Valentine's Day completely slipped my mind this year.”
And if you were truly being honest with yourself, every Friday felt like Valent—no. You shouldn't think like that. It would only make things worse about how you felt for him now. Plus, these past few months with San felt far too casual, too domestic, to be like Valentine's Day. Was Valentine's Day not for grand gestures and romance? This wasn't grand… though, you could probably argue about the romantic part…
“No, I feel the same way,” he nodded. “My friend Wooyoung just asked today if I was up to go to a single's party, which was why I suddenly remembered.”
Ah. “Oh, are you planning on going?” Wine sounded pretty good right about now.
He grimaced. “Probably not. I—I was kind of hoping you wanted to still do dinner next week—but, like, it doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. If that's what you're comfortable with.”
It doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. What if you wanted it to mean more than how it usually was? There was nothing inherently wrong with how it usually was, but you couldn't deny that a part of you yearned for more. That part of you imagined what it was like if San didn't have to come see you via fire escape, and he was always in the same space as you.
There was a pause as you wrestled with your own conscience about how or if you were going to admit it to him.
He pressed his lips together. “I've made you uncomfortable.”
“No, you haven't made me uncomfortable,” you assured him swiftly. “I just…” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead then returning it to your lap. “Of course, I would love to have dinner with you next week, but I’d like it to mean something else—if you are comfortable with that.”
You watched as that beautiful smile you'd come to grow more fond of blossom onto his face. “I'd be more than comfortable with that—I’d be really happy with that, actually.”
“Good,” you said softly, unable to bite your own smile away. “Then dinner next week, it is.”
There was something fundamentally different about this next Friday night compared to the others. Specifically, the context by which you and San went into the Friday evening of Valentine's Day was completely different. The apartment was aglow with the same warmth as it usually boasted, but there was a bouquet of blood red roses in a glass vase on the kitchen counter beside a bottle of red wine.
San was at the stove, finishing off the last bit for dinner before it needed to simmer for a good thirty minutes. You were in the living room portion of your apartment, flipping through the vinyl records to play before you pulled one out and set it up. As you moved the needle onto the record, you placed the empty cover back into its slot and turned toward the kitchen.
You froze in your spot, skin warming at the sight of San leaning over the island counter with an adoring look in his eyes as he watched you. “What?” You laughed, subconsciously adjusting the sleeve of your blouse.
“Nothing,” he smiled. “You're just—you’re gorgeous.”
You were sure if your face didn't give it away, there must have at least been hearts floating around your head. “You cannot just say that,” you chided weakly as you walked over to where he was, your expression growing shy.
His smile widened and he rounded the counter to stand in front of you, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. “I can, too,” he teased. He stepped back once and held his arms out, fingers flicking toward him to beckon you forward. “C'mere. Can you dance?”
“Some.” Your eyebrows arched upward as you stepped forward and took his hands in yours. “Dancing and romancing, Choi San? What magic do you hope to enchant me with tonight?” You joked, moving your left hand to his shoulder.
“Perhaps magic that will leave your window open for me on nights other than Fridays,” he said sheepishly as the two of you began to sway to the music waltzing out from the record player. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your fire escape—”
You let out a laugh, ducking your head toward your chests. He did the same, an embarrassed grin coming onto his face as his nose nudged against yours.
“That was god awful,” he winced in apology.
“It was,” you agreed teasingly, “but I'll let it slide because you're cute.”
He shot you a bright smile. “Oh? So I'm cute? I guess that makes two of us.”
You weren't really sure at what point you realized you had fallen for this man. It was sometime between the Himalayan salt lectures and the dancing like an old married couple in your kitchen, maybe. You thought about the day he showed up at your door panicking about a missing cat, and to a future where you might have found yourself in his living room painting murals on his walls. Or perhaps… not his living room, but both of yours.
As you danced with your chests pressed together, hearts beating rapidly in sync, you gazed into those beautiful, dark brown irises of his and sank further and further into those feelings. They were gradually making themselves a home in your chest.
“What're you thinking about, sweets?” He murmured as you tucked your head against his shoulder and the arm he had around your waist rubbed the small of your back.
The smell of his cologne made you inhale deeply. You could get used to this—his smell, the feel of his body under your fingertips, his presence intertwined with yours taking up space in the best possible way. “I'm thinking that Byeol is a good matchmaker.”
His chuckle rumbled through him and softly into your ear. “You're definitely right about that.”
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a/n: pls remember to reblog and comment if u enjoyed!
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
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rynbutt · 23 days
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pierced. pt.2 | spencer reid.
When you hadn't heard from Spencer in 3 weeks you thought you'd jumped the gun a bit... Or maybe he was just nervous.
pt. 1 | pt. 3 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, mentions of periods, mentions of alcohol, kissing, fluffy <3
a/n: i got carried away :,)
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The bar bathroom smelled of booze, sweat and another third thing you’d rather not think about.
You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, leaning over the sink to fix your lipstick with your finger and thumb. You fished around in your purse, pulling out the black tube of lipstick and plucking the cap off. You puckered your lips, admiring the matte colour in the smudged bathroom mirror that you dare not touch.
You were trying to be social for a change, perhaps meet some new people and make some new friends. After all, you didn’t know anyone and the cute FBI agent you met and gave your number to hadn’t called you since your interaction 3 weeks ago. You tried not to mull over it but you thought you landed a cutie, thinking he found you attractive too; he did find your boobs fascinating, the least he could do was buy you a drink. 
A pub crawl probably wasn’t the best place to start with making friends, it wasn’t really your thing. But after some of the new hires who started along with you invited you out to a pub crawl (you just happened to be sitting in the break room at the same time) you decided to just give it a shot. You soldiered through dinner and the first two bars you followed them along to, but when they left without you at the third, you were ready to down one more drink, call a cab and curl up with Tofu on the couch. 
You leaned over the sink, adjusting your black mini dress over your shoulders before grabbing your purse, letting out a tired sigh at your failed attempt at establishing some much needed friendships in this huge city.
“Shit, shit, shit! No-” A woman cursed from the stall behind you, sounding like she was rifling through her purse. 
“Are you okay?” You asked softly, knocking on the stall door.
“Oh, uhm, yeah… actually, do you have a tampon or something?” She asked quietly, seeming embarrassed.
“Shit, yeah, I do,” you quickly said, rifling through your purse for your stash of pads and tampons. A must whenever you go to bars, you never know when you or someone else will need it. “Here,” reached over the stall door, holding it as far out as you could for her. 
“Oh my god, thank you, you’re an angel,” she breathed a sigh of relief, taking the tampon from you. 
“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled to yourself.
“I’m going to get you a drink as a thank you.”
You chuckled softly, “oh, please. It’s really no trouble.”
“Ah- ta ta ta, I insist,” she retorted. 
Maybe you would make a friend tonight.
You stood by the basins as she flushed and pulled the stall door open. She wore bright pink heels and her hair sat in perfect curls over her shoulders, with thick glasses perched on her nose. She exuded sweetness. 
She smiled at you sweetly, “you’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s all good, I always have extra on me,” you grinned. “Just in case.”
“I like where your head’s at. The one time I didn’t bring my normal purse,” she laughed, washing her hands with the miniscule amount of soap left. “I’m Penelope Garcia,” she stuck her hand out for you to shake.
You shook her hand, “Y/N L/N.”
“I love your dress, you look gorgeous,” Penelope said, the two of you leaving the grotty bathroom together. You glanced down at your black mini dress, smiling to yourself at the compliment.
It had been a while since you broke it out of your closet. It was your favourite though, hugged your curves perfectly and had long sleeves that kept you warm but a deep neckline to show off your cleavage. 
“Thank you, it’s been a while since I’ve worn it.” You replied, letting Penelope link her arm around yours as she ushered you to the bar through the crowd of people. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she suddenly asked. 
You laughed at her abrupt question. “No… Why, you got a cute friend?”
“I do!” She exclaimed excitedly, making you chuckle. “He’s real sweet, you should totally hang out with us… That’s if you’re not here with anyone?”
“No, no, I’m not. Well, I was, but they left-”
“Without you?!”
“I don’t know them that well, it’s fine. I mean I just moved here.”
“But girl code? You never leave a girl by herself in a bar,” Penelope said, clutching her necklace, she seemed far more offended than you were. 
You and Penelope continued to talk and laugh at the bar while you waited for the line at the bar to subside. She asked you all about how you liked moving here and when you told her about your cat Tofu, she insisted on seeing photos. She bought you a tequila sunrise and ushered you over to the booth she said her friends were sitting at.
“Everyone, this is Y/N, she just saved my life,” Penelope exaggerated, introducing you to the very official looking group of people seated in the booth. 
But you lost interest in them quickly when you spotted Spencer Reid, the man who apparently doesn’t own a phone. 
“Oh, hey,” you said, your voice raising an octave as you pointed at Spencer. 
Spencer furrowed his brows, almost not recognising you without your tight baby blue tank on, “Y/N?”
“It’s Dr. Can’t Call Back,” you teased. The man you recognised as Agent Morgan let out a laugh, clapping a hand over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Wait, you know Reid?” Penelope asked.
“She lived in the apartment across from a crime scene, we interviewed her,” Morgan explained before staring down Spencer, “And little boy wonder managed to get her number and didn’t call her.”
“What!” Penelope exclaimed. “She’s hot!”
You covered your mouth as you laughed, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m sure he only took my number to be polite.”
“Oh he did not,” A blonde woman laughed. “He talked about it for days.”
“Oh, really?” You raised a brow at Spencer, who was almost beet red at the sudden spotlight on him. Penelope ushered you next to Spencer into the booth, the two of you pressed together between Morgan and the blonde woman.
“Yeah he did, couldn’t get him to shut up,” Another woman with dark hair said.
“I was going to call you,” Spencer said defensively. “But I got busy-”
“More like nervous,” Morgan retorted with a laugh.
Spencer sunk into the plush leather of the couch and you spent the next hour learning everyone’s names and learning that they were all in the FBI. Now that they knew who you were, there goes your chances of being a sexy drug lord.
It was nice to feel included, everyone asking you about your new job, where you grew up, what you liked about moving here, you finally made some new friends. Penelope sealed the deal when she gave you her number, promising to take you to lunch some time to thank you for your heroic act in saving her.
You glanced at Spencer as he shifted uncomfortably next to you, “you wanna get a drink?” you asked, attempting to get him away from everyone and talk to him. 
He nervously moved some of his hair out of his face, “Yeah…Yeah sure,” he replied quietly, a slight nervousness in his voice.
The two of you slid out of the booth and you grabbed his hand as you pulled him to the bar. His hands were clammy with nervousness but he didn’t let go of your hand until you dropped his hand, leaning on the bar.
“So…”
“I was going to call you. I really was,” he said quickly, letting out a shaky breath.
You laughed at his nervousness, “It’s okay, Dr. Reid. I’m not holding it against you.”
“Spencer,” he corrected. 
“Right,” you smiled, “Spencer.”
“Here, look,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket along with the note you left him, which was cute, considering it kept it on him for this long. He glanced at the note and quickly dialled your number. Your phone buzzed in your purse and you answered the call. “There, now you have my number.”
“Nice save, pretty boy,” you saved his number in your phone, typing his name into your phone along with a little heart. 
“...You look… very nice,” he said nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You grinned coyly at him, “thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Though, I feel like you always look like that,” you flirted.
“I try to look presentable,” he replied, not really picking up on your flirting tone. “I have an important job.”
“Of course,” You laughed lightly, your fingers reaching up to gently fix his collar. Your fingers grazed the side of his neck and his breath caught in his throat, gulping back the lump of nervousness that formed. You were really pretty, someone he considered way out of his league. 
After you gave him your number, he spent the entire car ride back to the BAU staring at it, heart thumping loudly in his ears at the idea of seeing you again. He tried calling your number a couple of times and got nervous because he had no idea what to say. Would he ask you on a date? Obviously. But what do people do on dates? He had to be assertive, come up with something and be confident, but his mind went blank staring at your number. And wikihow really wasn’t helping.
“Hey guys, we’re off,” Emily walked over to you and Spencer at the bar. “Hotch’s hailing a cab.”
“Oh, right. Do you need a cab? I-I can cover it,” Spencer looked at you, reaching for his wallet.
“I live nearby actually, it’s just a couple blocks away. I’ll just walk,” you smiled. 
Emily frowned at you, “this late? That’s not safe.”
“I’ll walk her,” Spencer quickly said. “I’ll catch a cab from her place.”
“Oh, Spencer, you don’t have to do that,” you squeezed his forearm.
Spencer waved you off, “it’s safer if I walk you home.”
Emily glanced between the two of you with squinted eyes. She smiled cheekily, wiggling her brows at Spencer, “...be safe.”
Spencer scoffed at her implication, making you giggle. You picked your purse up off the bar stool and let Spencer lead you out of the bar. You said goodbye to Penelope and JJ, waving the rest of them down as Spencer waited for you to say goodbye.
“Keep him safe, pretty girl!” Derek called from the cab window.
“Will do!” You chuckled.
The more you thought about it, the more you realised it was probably a good idea Spencer was walking you home. You had learned a lot about your new home over the last 3 weeks but having Spencer, who you came to understand was a bit of a genius, proved to be very convenient. Spencer seemed to know where he was going more than you did, you just followed along next to him, your shoulders occasionally bumping. 
“How long have you been in the FBI?” You asked, linking your arm with his. He nervously let you do so but you could feel him tense under your touch. “This okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay… Uh, I’ve been in the FBI for four years, two months and two weeks exactly,” he replied, “...Eidetic memory, I tend to keep track of that kind of stuff.”
“Mmm, I’ve always had a thing for dorks,” you flirted with an airy laugh.
“I’m not a dork,” he retorted defensively through a laugh.
You looked up at him, “Only joking, Spence. Intelligence is attractive.”
He beamed internally at the nickname. Sure, JJ called him Spence, but it sounded like honey when you said it, made his heart race and his skin run hot. The two of you walked in comfortable silence and you yawned quietly, not realising how tired you were until you left the overstimulating environment of the bar.
He walked you up the steps of your apartment building, waiting for you to take out your card that let you into the building. You pulled the door open and Spencer reached to hold it open for you. You paused, turning to face him.
“Thank you for walking me home. I really appreciate it,” you smiled. 
“It’s okay, I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he replied, exuding a kind of nervousness he wasn’t before. 
You laughed lightly at how adorable he was before pressing up on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He tensed under your touch but soon relaxed. You pulled away and began laughing, “Oh shit, I got lipstick on your cheek.”
You pulled your sleeve over your finger and began smudging it away. Spencer suddenly grabbed your wrist softly, taking a deep breath of courage and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You barely had time to register it and as soon as it started it was over and he pulled away, cheeks red with embarrassment.
“I… I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “Shit-”
“Woah, Spence. It’s okay,” you grabbed his hands, trying to recapture his attention as his eyes stared at everything but you. “Hey.”
“I don’t know why I did that,” he laughed nervously.
“...Maybe you should kiss me again?” You suggested, doe eyes staring up at him. His breath caught in his throat as you leaned up again, arms hooking around his neck as your lips brushed his softly. Your voice was quiet when you spoke, “Do you want to kiss me again, Spencer Reid?”
“...Yeah,” he muttered out. You grinned before leaning in to kiss him, hands cupping his face as his hands landed on your waist nervously. He kissed you with a gentleness that left you dizzy. He was clearly nervous but you stroked his cheekbones with your thumbs as he deepened the kiss, tilting your head back like he wanted to consume you. 
He pulled away, forehead resting against yours. You laughed gently at the smear of lipstick over his lips, your thumb coming to rub it off as best you could.
“Mm, that colour suits you,” you chuckled. He let out a breath of a laugh as he pulled away from you, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “I don’t usually kiss men I haven’t even gone on a date with.”
“Well, I don’t kiss girls… end of sentence,” he replied.
You laughed at his response, unhooking your arms from his neck and stepping into your apartment building. “Well, you’re good at it, Spence. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Well… Will I see you some time?” 
“Call me back first,” you teased.
Spencer stared at the pavement and laughed nervously, letting you kiss his cheek one more time before you left him at the door of your apartment building, heading to the elevator. You waved at him as the elevator dinged and he waved back with a tight lip smile.
You leaned against the cool metal of the elevator wall, grinning like an idiot as you watched the numbers above the door light up. You suddenly felt your phone vibrating in your purse. You pulled it out, half expecting it to be your mother calling. You smiled as Spencer’s name appeared on your phone, you answered, holding it to your ear.
“Hi, Spencer.”
“Can I take you to dinner?” He asked, his voice breathless as you assumed he was trying to catch a cab. “Tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to,” you grinned.
“I’ll pick you up… maybe don’t wear a tank top.”
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a/n: kinda obsessed with these two, i'm creating a taglist if anyone wants on :) just send a message to my inbox <3
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coryosbaby · 4 months
Text
Mascara || T. Riddle
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Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’
Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader
。.。 ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom
Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.
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Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.
The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.
The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.
You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.
He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.
You let out a breath of air.
You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.
“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”
His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.
To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.
He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.
“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”
Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.
“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.
“Don’t.”
You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.
“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”
It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.
“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”
“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”
“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”
His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.
“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”
“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”
He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.
“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.
“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”
You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.
“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.
“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”
His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.
You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.
Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.
“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”
You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.
When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.
“Prepared, weren’t you?”
You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.
Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.
“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.
His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.
And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.
“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”
He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.
He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.
When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.
He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.
“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”
Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.
“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.
“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”
It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.
He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.
“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”
“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.
“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”
Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.
“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”
A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.
You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.
“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”
Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.
He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.
You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.
“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”
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fallinforgyu · 4 months
Text
steamroller
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pairing: mingi/fem!reader
genre: childhood best friends to lovers, college au, angst, smut - minors do NOT interact
warnings: no dom/sub dynamic, unrequited love, mutual loss of virginity, mingi has a massive cock, fingering, oral sex (f. recieving)
word count: 10k
a/n: i want to be honest with you guys, this is not a comeback. this is just a little fic that i’ve been working on for the past year or so that has brought me a lot of comfort, and i hope that it can do the same for you. i’m not sure if i’ll ever be active on this blog like i used to be, but please know that i will always be a writer and i will always read every single comment, reblog, and note that is sent to me. thank you for being my readers. i love you all so so dearly <3
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“Hey, Mingi,” Yunho asked, staring at his distorted reflection in the back of a flimsy dining hall spoon, “Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”
 “W-What the fuck?” Mingi choked on his homemade sandwich. “Why would you ask me that?”
 “Because I want to go down on my girl on our next date…” he dropped the spoon on his tray, frowning as it clanged. “We’ve already fucked but I think it’ll be a nice way to show her I really care, you know? But I’ve never done it before.”
 “Wait-” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward across the table. “You’ve had sex before?” 
 “You haven’t?” Yunho grinned.
 “Of course I haven’t, asshole! Why didn’t you tell me?”
 Yunho shrugged. “Guess I just didn’t think it was that important. What time’s your next class?” 
 “I’m done with classes for the day,” Mingi crumbled the tin foil that previously held his sandwich into a ball. “Yours is at 2:30, right?” 
 The older boy nodded and the two stood up, making their way to the nearest trash can.
 “Besides,” Yunho placed his tray on top of a growing stack of them while Mingi threw away his brown paper bag. “I thought you would’ve already fucked that girl you’re always with by now. What was her name again?”
 Mingi’s eyes widened as your name slipped past Yunho’s lips. “Sh!” he hissed, looking over his shoulder. “I told you to stop asking about her. She doesn’t like me like that.”
 “But you haven’t even tried!”
 “Yes, I have!”
 “Giving her a warm Tootsie Roll that had been sitting in your pocket all day does not count as trying.”
 “But I gave it to her on Valentine’s Day!” Mingi whined. “That counts for something, right?”
 He reluctantly met Yunho’s eyes, groaning when he saw his friend’s lips pressed into a thin line and his head shaking. 
 “You’ve gotta just tell her, dude. You’re never gonna know if you don’t try.” 
 He knew Yunho was right. If he ever wanted anything to change, he’d have to talk to you. Otherwise, he’d spend his entire life wondering what would’ve happened if he would’ve just had the balls to tell you. 
 He’d do it today, he decided, when he met you at your usual spot to walk back to your dorms together. That way, he could just run home if you said you didn’t feel the same way! Perfect plan. 
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Mingi wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to your usual meeting spot, attempting to calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time. 
 He was really going to do it now; he was going to spill his heart out and hope that you somehow ended up in his arms. He’d start with how he’d loved you since you were kids when you took swim lessons with him at the community pool. You jumped right in the water when he was too afraid to duck his head underneath, and he remembered wanting to be brave like you. He loved you in middle school when you noticed him struggling with his math homework and offered to help. He loved you when you introduced him to Yunho, your friend from the student council who would end up becoming his best friend. And he loved you two years later, when he read your summer reading book aloud to you because staring at the pages made you sleepy. 
 He loved you last year when you went to prom together, even when you made a point of announcing to the rest of your group that the two of you were “Just really good friends.”
 Oh, well. He loved you when he gave you that Tootsie Roll three months ago, too.
 And he loved you now, when he approached you slowly and timidly, waving his hand to get you to look up from your phone.
 “Oh, hi,” you grinned, pulling the earbuds out of your ears.
 “Hi,” he smiled. 
 “How was… how was your day?” You asked the same question you always asked when you saw him, but it sounded different this time. It was like an exhale; Like you were breathing the words instead of speaking them. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were nervous. 
 “Good,” he nodded, gripping the straps of his backpack.
 “Good!” You repeated, clasping your hands together. “So…”
 He braced himself to say it. I’m in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss you.
 But you spoke first, and you said, “I think we should have sex.”
 He thought that he was having a stroke. He thought that you were having a stroke. “W-what did you say?”
 “Hear me out,” you waved your hands and closed your eyes. “We’re the last virgins in our friend group, right? And everyone thinks we’ve already fucked, anyway. So we could just do it together and get it over with so that it’s not as big of a deal when we do it with other people!”
 “I don’t…” His face felt like it was on fire. His stomach burned, and his palms were even sweatier than before. Get it over with?
 You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you so fast. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and…”
 Your voice turned into a murmur in the back of his mind as he analyzed your words. Been thinking about it for weeks now? Thinking about…
 “But you don’t have to decide now, okay? I just wanted to see if you would be up for it.”
 He slowly blinked and nodded back like an idiot. “O-okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”
 You nudged his shoulder with yours as you stood up to walk home with him, down the streets of the campus that had been home to you for the past nine months. “And there’s no pressure, alright? You can say I’m gross and you see me like a sister and I won’t be mad,” you laughed.
 You’re beautiful. I want you to be my girlfriend.
 “I’ll think about it,” he repeated.
 “Cool,” you nodded. “How’d that stats test go?”
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You felt sick when you tried to go to sleep that night, nauseated with the thought that you might’ve just ruined everything. 
 You didn’t mean for it to come out so fast. You didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. You only meant to present the idea to him; a sort of business proposal that would benefit the both of you before you went back home for the summer.
 None of your friends were virgins anymore. Only you and Mingi were left, and you’d known each other the longest, anyway. 
 You turned in bed to stare at the pictures of the two of you taped to the collage on your wall. He stood next to you in a cheap rental tuxedo at prom, his mouth pulled into a gummy smile and his arm linked with yours. In another picture, he stood three inches away from you at your middle school graduation, a reminder of the awkward phase the two of you went through when you realized that he was a boy and you were a girl. 
 But there were pictures from before that time, too, like the one of the two of you covered in nasty, artificially-colored green frosting from the cake at Mingi’s Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party in 2005. Or the two of you dressed up as Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents for Halloween in fourth grade. 
 Your oldest friend. The person who’d seen you through every phase of your life – even your emo phase in seventh grade – and stuck by you nonetheless. 
 You thought of his full lips and his broad shoulders, his big hands. He was handsome, there was absolutely no arguing that, but he was also kind and gentle and sweet. He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the last to believe you when you told him you were fine. 
 Being his lover would be amazing, but not if it meant you couldn’t be his friend anymore. You wouldn’t fall unless he asked you to because losing him wasn’t an option.
 You’d tell him tomorrow to forget it. That it was stupid, and you changed your mind. 
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Mingi told Yunho about it at lunch the next day. 
 “She talked to me yesterday,” he mumbled, picking the peel off of a clementine.
 “And? What’d she say?” Yunho leaned forward, anticipating Mingi’s answer.
 “She wants to fuck me.”
 Yunho let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t play with me right now.”
 “She does! She said, and I quote, ‘I think we should have sex.’”
 “Well,” Yunho chuffed, “There you go, buddy! I told you all you had to do was talk to her!”
 Mingi knew he didn’t really talk to you. He knew he just listened (well, half-listened, half daydreamed about what losing his virginity to you would be like) while you gabbed on about how it was a win-win situation.
 But Yunho seemed so happy… No, proud of him. His validation made Mingi feel good – like this was the right decision.
 “So, when are you going to do it?” Yunho squeezed a gluttonous amount of ketchup on his dry chicken patty.
 Mingi stared at his Ziploc bag of slightly brown apple slices. “Well… I haven’t really told her I’d do it yet.” 
 “What? Why not?”
 “I just didn’t know if it was right…”
 “The girl that you’ve been in love with since you were a kid wants to give you her virginity and take yours at the same time, and you don’t know if it’s right?”
 Mingi smiled. “Yeah… I know.”
 “Tell her today. I bet you’ll do it before you go home for the summer if you tell her today.”
 “Okay, yeah.” Mingi nodded, feeling more sure of himself. “I’ll tell her today.”
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You had headphones in when you waited for Mingi after school, but you weren’t listening to any music. There was already too much buzzing around in your head, and music would only overwhelm you even more.
 You chewed on your nailbeds and rehearsed your script in your head. Hey, I was way off base yesterday. That was weird and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Let’s just pretend it never happened and enjoy the summer, okay?
 You saw his sneakers first. They were clean, exactly how they looked when he bought them four months ago. 
 He was smiling when you looked up.
 “Let’s do it.”
 “Wait… really?” You tilted your head to the side, trying not to stare at his lips.
 “Yeah. You were right, it just makes sense for us to do it together.” His cheeks were pink.
 You slowly nodded, trying to convince yourself that it was a good idea again. “Right. Yeah… yeah, it makes sense.” You clapped your hands together. “Well! It’s settled then! Is Yunho leaving town anytime soon?”
 “I don’t… I don’t think so?” 
 You stood up to begin your walk home, and Mingi followed suit.
 “Well,” you sighed. “My roommates are probably home, but we should be fine if we’re quiet.”
 Mingi stumbled a bit as he walked. “Wait, we’re doing this right now? Like, literally right now?”
 “No!” you turned your head towards him as you spoke, but you didn’t look him in the eye. “But don’t you think we should do other stuff first? And like… work up to the big thing?”
 “Other stuff?”
 “Just to warm us up. You know, so it won’t be as scary when we…” You pictured Mingi naked and on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips parted in a moan. You cleared your throat. “You know.”
 “O-okay,” he nodded. “Okay, yeah.”
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 Mingi sat on your bed with his hands tucked underneath his thighs to hide how badly they were shaking. He looked around the room, jealous of your full-size bed. He and Yunho were in a shared room dorm, and his feet always hung off the end of his twin mattress. 
 Meanwhile, you scrolled through your phone to find a good playlist. You hit shuffle on the first one that suited your taste and a familiar song tumbled out of your cheap Bluetooth speaker.
 “You’ve kissed someone before, right?” You put your phone on your desk and walked to your bed.
 “Yes,” he nodded. 
 You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who?”
 He squirmed, adjusting his hands under his thighs. “My lab partner in ninth grade. She felt me up under the bleachers.” I was thinking about you the whole time, his internal monologue chimed in, the words never making it past his lips.
 “Gross,” you laughed, sitting on your bed. “Just let me lead, okay? Try to mirror what I do.”
 You reached up to hold his jaw, and his entire body stiffened.
 “Hey.” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Don’t be nervous, Ming. It’s just me. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want t–”
 “I want to!” He interrupted. “Please. I really want to. I’m just nervous.”
 You rested both your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just me,” you repeated. “The same me that I’ve always been.”
 Yeah, he thought, that’s the problem.
 “Just follow my lead.” You gave him an encouraging smile, which he weakly returned. “It’ll be fun, okay?”
 Mingi nodded, closed his eyes, and held his breath. A few seconds later, he felt your lips against his, and they were even softer than he imagined. He was sure that his were chapped, and he regretted not wearing lip balm more often like his mom always told him to.
 “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
 He opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and gave you a tiny shake of his head.
 “Do you want another one?” You smiled. 
 “Yes, please,” he whispered.
 You kissed him again, a little bit longer this time. Your lips naturally slotted with his, and butterflies filled his tummy when you rested your hand on his thigh.
 And then your lips parted. He wasn’t sure what to do other than follow your lead like you’d told him to, so he let his lips part, as well.
 His breath caught in his throat when your hand slid down to his neck. He barely had time to recover before you slipped your tongue in his mouth, playful and teasing and light. 
 “O-oh,” he breathed, a shiver running through his body.
 “How was that?” 
 “Good. I liked… I liked the part when you used your tongue.”
 “Shut up,” you laughed. “You wanna… keep going?”
 “Yes,” he nodded.
 And that was how Mingi had his first makeout session with his childhood best friend. He tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum, but it was hard to when your kisses progressively got more heated. Your tongue in his mouth was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he blushed at your giggle when he tried to mirror your movements.
 “Such a fast learner, Ming.”
 “T-thanks…”
 “You know you can touch me, right? You don’t have to sit on your hands.”
 He looked down, completely unaware that his hands were still tucked underneath his thighs. They were both numb now, and they tingled when he pulled them up. He flexed and relaxed them to get his blood flowing again.
 “I’ve never…” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know where to touch.”
 You gave him a smile laced with what might have been pity and took his big hand in yours, moving it to rest on your hip.
 “What about the other one?” He whispered, even quieter than before.
 And then you were lifting his other hand and placing it on your cheek. His breath caught in his throat again.
 It’s strange to truly look at someone whose face has always been a constant in your life. You looked different, but also the same. People change, but they don’t. 
 Mingi was sure of one thing: your face was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He liked it ten years ago, and he liked it now.
 He kissed you first the next time. And since he’d gotten a little more confident, he let his lips part and used his tongue first, too. He kept his hands where you’d placed them and you kept yours around his neck. You kissed and kissed and kissed, and for now, that was enough.
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It didn’t stay enough for long. You and Mingi practically ran to your dorm after school every day, barely taking time to breathe before attaching your mouths together once your door was shut. Your obsession with Mingi’s lips had only grown since you started spending most of your free time kissing them.
 His hands were nice, too. They’d gotten a little bit more curious since that day, sometimes giving your hip a gentle squeeze or moving up to your waist while he kissed you. Any noise you’d make would immediately be met with a “sorry” – a constant reminder that no matter how attractive the boy you were making out with was, he was still just the same old Mingi.
 And the little reactions he’d make were precious. He’d gasp when you touched his thighs, he’d hum when you stroked his neck, he’d whimper when you took his plump bottom lip between your teeth. The more you worked him up, the luckier you felt to have been the only person to have ever seen him like this. 
 You wondered how that could be while you sucked his lips. Plenty of girls had crushed on Mingi over the years. You knew because they’d always ask you if you were his girlfriend before they tried to confess to him. No matter how many times you told them you weren’t, he never ended up dating any of them.
 You detached from his lips with a smack. “Mingi?”
 “Mm?” He blinked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips swollen from kisses.
 “Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”
 His eyes widened for a split second, and he tried to cover it up by blinking a few times. “Uh… just never met the right person, I guess.”
 “But girls have been throwing themselves at you for years… You didn’t ever want to try anything with them?”
 “Guess I just wanted to wait for someone that I really…” he swallowed. “Trust.”
 That made sense. The thought of doing all of these things with a stranger was horrifying, but you felt safe with Mingi. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.
  “I trust you too, Ming. Wanna try something new?”
 “O-okay, yeah.”
 You tapped his shoulder twice. “Lay down.”
 Like a puppy who’d just been given a command, he lowered himself against your pillows, swinging his legs up so he was laying on the bed. You swung a leg over his hips to straddle them, and his eyes immediately widened. 
 You’d never really taken time to admire how pretty Mingi was. His chest, which was more toned than you’d realized, was swelling and deflating as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and you’d be stupid to not notice the way his thick thighs tensed and relaxed underneath his black jeans. 
 And then you leaned down, hovering over him to study his face. You ran your thumb over his sharp jaw as you took in his other features; The same darkness in his eyes that wasn’t mysterious, but warm and inviting. The straight line of his nose, the pointed tip of it. The birthmark under his eye, the one on his cheek, the acne scars that dotted his cheeks like stars. Those fucking lips.
 Mingi was really fucking cute. Had he always been?
 You kissed him again, smiling when a little whimper escaped his lips. 
 “Cute,” you mumbled, unaware that the word had left your mouth until it was too late.
 Or maybe it was a good thing that you said it. Mingi’s response was enough to make you think that, at least. He moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed his hips forward against yours. 
 Mingi always got hard during your makeout sessions, but you always pretended not to notice to spare him from any embarrassment. However, pretending not to notice was incredibly difficult with his bulge grinding against your heat.
 He moaned at the stimulation, but quickly interrupted himself. “Ooh-sorry! I’m so sorry, that wasn’t on purpo–”
 You clapped a hand over his mouth. “I told you we have to be quiet.”
 He nodded, eyes wide as your hand stayed pressed to his mouth. You slid it down to rest on his chest when you whispered in his ear. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I wanted to try.”
 You pushed and pulled your hips against his erection again in one experimental thrust, grinning when his eyes screwed shut and his lips pressed together. You cupped his face to guide his lips to yours again.
 It was as uncoordinated as two virgins could be. Though your lips easily moved together from a week of practice, neither of your hips were skilled enough to set any sort of rhythm. You just desperately grabbed at each other, groping and humping and kissing like your lives depended on it. 
 Soon, you could feel your soaking panties uncomfortably sticking to your core. The fabric gave you the tiniest bit of stimulation, dragging against your clit and ever-so-slightly teasing you. And the boy underneath you was driving you insane, with his messy kisses and his tiny groans. 
 You didn’t know what the end goal was, but you knew that it felt better when you grinded your hips faster, so that’s what you did. 
 “Ah-” You silenced Mingi’s moan by pressing your mouth to his again, sighing as he hummed against your lips.
 And then he whimpered your name. He’d said your name a thousand times before, but he’d never said it like this. Like it was a cry for help, a desperate plea for something. The sound fueled the fire of your desperation as you continued moving your hips, hoping to God that he’d say it again.
 And he did. You attached your lips to his neck and he whined your name once more, followed by a tiny breath of, “O-oh, god…”
 His little sounds were getting better and better. Your name slipped past his lips between breathy whimpers and choked hums, and you kept licking and sucking his neck while you grinded your clothed, soaking pussy against his painfully hard, just as clothed dick.
 Finally, you took pity on the poor thing. His moans were getting increasingly desperate, and you could tell that he was doing everything in his power to keep them quiet. You hovered your lips directly over his ear.
 “What’s wrong, baby?”
 “A-ah-mph!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he writhed on the bed, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep his pathetic noises in. His whole body was shaking when you sat up.
 A wet patch on the crotch of his jeans made the dark fabric even darker, and a horrified expression washed over his face as your eyes immediately landed on it. If he would’ve looked between your legs, he would’ve noticed that your shorts were just as soaked, but he didn’t. He only saw your dumbfounded expression as you tried to figure out what you were supposed to say. All that came out was, “D-did you just…?”
 You just made a boy cum. From kissing. This had to have been the best day of your life. 
 “I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing you off of him. He immediately stood up, locating his jacket on your desk and holding it in front of his pants as he slid his bag over his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He looked down the whole time, never letting his eyes meet yours as he slipped his way out of your bedroom door. 
 “Mingi!” you called two seconds too late. “You’re not going to–” 
 You sighed, letting your voice get quiet. “Help me?”
 He didn’t come back, leaving you with soaking panties and an unsatiated pulsing between your legs that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 
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You texted him the next morning.
 It’s not a big deal, Ming. Do you want to come over?
 He didn’t respond. You went the whole weekend without hearing from him, and even when you waited for him at your usual spot on Monday, he didn’t show. You sent him another text. 
 Stop being stupid. I miss you.
 He didn’t respond to that, either. By Tuesday, you were so anxious to see him that you waited outside his lecture hall after his morning class, scanning the crowd of faces for him. He wasn’t difficult to find; his tall frame easily distinguished him from the rest of the crowd, even with his shoulders slouched. He made eye contact with you and immediately put his head down, walking faster. 
 “Mingi!” You yelled, weaving through the crowd to follow him. 
 His pace quickened, his long legs carrying him out of the brick building and through the grassy common area, skillfully dodging flying frisbees and strategically-hung Enos. 
 “Mingi! This…” you panted. “This isn’t fair! Your legs are longer than mine!”
 He flinched with each call of his name, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t slow down. You picked up your pace to a jog, huffing as you tried to catch up to him. “MINGI! Stop fucking ignoring me!”
 After quickening your steps to a borderline sprint, you finally got close enough to grab the handle of his backpack, yanking him backwards and causing both of you to collapse on the lawn in the process. 
 “Ow…” he whined, rubbing his butt and attempting to brush grass off of it.
 “You…” you breathed. “You fucking suck. Why aren’t you talking to me?”
 “W-What do you want me to say? What the hell am I supposed to say after humiliating myself like that?”
 “I told you it wasn’t a big deal, stupid! I wanted to make you feel good!”
 His ears burned as he looked at you with wide eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and shock painting his face. 
 “And you… you didn’t even stay and help me. I was more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, and you just got up and left! Right after I helped you finish! Who the fuck does that?”
 “I…” he breathed, trying not to pass out. He made you more turned on than you’d ever been in your life? “I didn’t think you wanted me to…”
 “You didn’t think I wanted to feel good, too?”
 “No!” he stammered, “No, I just… I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you would think I was gross.”
 You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Mingi, the entire point of having sex is to feel good. I didn’t think you were gross, I was jealous of you.”
 And see, that was where he fundamentally disagreed with you. As far as Mingi was concerned, the entire point of having sex was to be intimate with someone you love. Feeling good was just a bonus. 
 He loved you so fucking much. Knowing that you didn’t feel the same way about him made his chest physically ache, but he knew that you needed him, and that was more than he could have hoped for. If you didn’t love him, at least you could love the way he made you feel. 
 “I’ll make it up to you next time,” he assured you. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel good.”
 Your smile reappeared, and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.
 “Yeah,” you laughed, punching his shoulder. “You better. Wanna try that new boba place?”
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The boba was mid, but it was nice to just be in Mingi’s presence again. He crumpled his straw wrapper as he told you about his weekend, how his mom’s birthday was coming up, and how things were getting more serious between Yunho and his girlfriend. 
 You liked the sound of his voice. You remembered when it used to crack all the time in middle school, but it had since balanced out into a smooth baritone, cascading your ears in warmth. 
 “Are you listening to me?”
 “What? Yes.” 
 “No, you’re not,” he scoffed. ”You’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes.” 
 “Yeah, because you have foam on them.”
 He immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears flushing a bright red as he mumbled a disingenuous “fuck you.”
 The foam was only a scapegoat. You both knew how much you loved his lips. 
 “Speaking of fuck you…” You shifted in your metal chair. “When… when are we going to… you know…”
 “What?”
 “You know…” You looked to the side, your eyes widening. 
 His heartrate doubled. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Was there… did you have a specific time in mind?”
 “Sorry, didn’t realize I needed to make an appointment,” you laughed. “I don’t know. I just… I want to. Soon.”
 He remembered your words. Get it over with. 
 “Okay,” he nodded. “We can. Soon.”
 You picked up his hand that was resting on the table to play with his fingers, pinching them between your smaller ones while you chewed on a ball of sweet tapioca. 
 He swallowed and watched you, his eyes glazing over. I love you, I love you, I love you.
 Your stomach dropped a bit when you met his starry eyes. You didn’t know why.
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Two days later and you had Mingi underneath you again, his hands gripping your waist while you sucked on those perfect lips. 
 “Gonna make you feel good this time…” he whispered, trying to catch his breath between your feverish kisses. “Promise.”
 You just rested your hand on the back of his neck and sighed.
 “Can I… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked, his face a deep shade of red. 
 “Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”
 But he didn’t move, so you tugged on the hem of your shirt and lifted it off yourself. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your half-naked torso, covered by nothing but a slightly too tight purple bra that you got on clearance a few years ago.
 He shakily brushed a fingertip over the little bow in the center of it.
 Your face felt so hot you were sure water would boil if someone rested a pot on your cheek.
 “Can you… take your shirt off, too? This feels weird.” You covered your torso with your arms.
 “O-oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Yeah.”
 You scooted back so that he could sit up, his trembling hands lifting his shirt over his head.
 His chest was flushed red. That was the first thing you noticed. And his belly was lean, but also soft and smooth, puffing and deflating with his shallow breath. 
 You rested a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He just watched you.
 “We’re not kids anymore…” you whispered. There was a sad tone to your words, almost as if you were grieving.
 “No,” Mingi shook his head, his voice barely audible. “We’re not.”
 It was a beautifully horrifying realization. The kid you used to make mud soup with was a man now, and he was touching you like you’d never been touched before.
 You kissed him then. To comfort him, to comfort yourself, to be closer to the person who already knew you better than anyone in the universe.
 You unclasped your bra and just let it loosely rest on top of your chest.
 “Hey,” Mingi whispered, “Just me, remember?”
 Right. Just Mingi. 
 You tossed your bra to the side, instinctively covering your boobs with your hands.
 “Please…” Mingi placed his hands over yours. “I want to see you.”
 He sighed when you removed your hands, just as slowly.
 “Pretty…” he mumbled. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
 You nodded and he ran his hands over the lines on your sides where your bra had been digging into your skin. You cursed yourself for not buying a new one before this. Maybe he’d like one of those silk push-up bras you always saw your friends wearing, or perhaps one of those flimsy lace bralettes that you saw in the windows at Victoria’s Secret last week.
 “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the insecurity in your stomach almost vanished completely. Almost. 
 He leaned forward, cupping one of your tits in his huge hand and gently kissing the other. You gasped when you felt his wet tongue drag across your nipple, and he looked up at you for reassurance while you laced your fingers through his hair. 
 “Does that feel good?”
 “Yes,” you breathed. “Y-yeah, that feels good….”
 He gently latched his mouth to your nipple, sucking and then running his soft tongue over the flesh to soothe it. You didn’t mean to, but you arched your back, and his free hand found a place in the dip of your waist.
 You subconsciously tugged on his hair as he sucked your other nipple. He worshipped your tits, kissing, sucking, and licking them while you quietly moaned, grinding against his erection. You wanted to let him continue all night, but soon,  the pulsing between your thighs started to become unbearable. 
 “Ming… need you to fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”
 He pulled back a bit, his plump lips glossy and his adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed.
 “Okay.”
 He didn’t move and you didn’t, either. You just looked at each other, breathing heavy though you’d hardly done anything yet.
 “... Nobody’s ever seen me naked before,” he said under his breath.
 You shook your head. “Me neither.”
 He kissed you again, but it was really just so that you wouldn’t watch him while he took his pants off. And you weren’t sure what you were doing, you weren’t sure why, but once both of your pants were off, you reached a hand down and felt him through the thin fabric of his boxers.
 He took in a sharp inhale. 
 “I’m sorry,” you said, “Is this okay?”
 And then you felt a large hand between your thighs, softly rubbing you through your panties.
 It felt so much different from when you did it to yourself. More pleasurable, sure, but also more vulnerable. More intense.
 Neither of you knew what to say. You felt how hard he was against your hand. He felt the little wet patch soaking through your panties. You both needed this desperately, and yet for a few moments, nobody moved. 
 “Y-you can take them off of me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it cracked in the middle, but you were proud of yourself for getting the words out. 
 His hands shook when he slid them down your thighs. Before he could stare for too long, you slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down. 
 You weren’t sure if he was big or not. You’d never seen a penis in real life before, only in porn, and he looked about the same size as what you’d seen in porn. Did that mean he was big?
 He looked down, and you realized you were staring. “Sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again. 
 “N-no, it’s okay. Is it… I mean, do you like it?”
 Your face broke into a smile. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. “Yes, it’s  lovely, Ming. Stop stressing.”
 You reached for a condom on your nightstand, closely inspecting the foil packet for instructions. 
 “I think I can do it,” he mumbled, gently taking the condom out of your hand.
 “You know how to?”
 “I think so.”
 After a few minutes of him fumbling with the latex, his lips were on yours again and you could feel his dick resting on your thigh. 
 “Are you ready?” He pulled back for a moment to look you in the eye.
 “M-mhm,” you nodded.
 He kissed your cheek and held his dick in his hand, aligning himself. A painful stretching sensation flooded your lower half as his thick tip poked at your entrance. 
 He inhaled shakily. “C-can I… can I push it in now?”
 You nodded. “I… think so? Y-yeah… go ahead…”
 He pushed his hips forward, and the sensation intensified when you felt his tip enter you with a pop. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. A horrid stretch, almost like a burn, splitting you open in the worst way. Tears pricked into your eyes.
 “OW! Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop, stop!” You pushed his broad shoulders away, whimpering when he frantically pulled out. That hurt, too.
 “O-oh my god, are you okay? What did I- D-did I do something wrong?”
 You looked down at his dick, which was still fully hard. He was big, you supposed. Really big. With his cock resting on your stomach, it went all the way up to your belly button. You felt stupid for thinking you could take him without any prep.
 And you also felt embarrassed. This wasn’t how your first time was supposed to go. This didn’t happen in porn. You were supposed to be screaming his name, he was supposed to be groaning yours and pounding you into the mattress. You were supposed to be making him feel good, and he was supposed to be doing the same for you. A lump formed in your throat and you attempted to blink the tears out of your eyes, which probably just made them more teary. 
 “No,” you breathed. “I think… I don’t think I’m wet enough.”
 He frowned. “Did we not kiss for long enough?”
 “No, no, we did.” Guilt crept into your chest. You knew this wasn’t how he pictured his first time going, either. 
 His frown intensified as a pained look washed over his face. “Are you not… is it because you’re not attracted to me?”
 “Stop it, Mingi. It’s not for any reason. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… we can get lube from the store and try again tomorrow, okay? I can jerk you off to help you finish if you want.”
 His heart ached. He didn’t want you to ‘help him finish.’ He wanted to make love to you, soft and tender and slow. He wanted to hold your face and kiss your forehead and tell you how much you meant to him.
 But his dick was painfully hard, and there aren’t many times that the love of your life offers to help you finish even though they don’t feel the same way about you, so he said, “Yes, please.”
 You wrapped your fingers around his erection, biting your cheek to stop yourself from crying. He bit his lip to do the same.
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Mingi couldn’t make eye contact with the cashier when he bought lube from the drug store the next day. His hands shook as he put his card into the reader, and they kept shaking while he entered his pin number. The machine dinged and he yanked his card out, snatching the plastic bag from the cashier before they had time to offer him a receipt. His face burned the entire walk to your dorm and didn’t stop burning once he got there.
 His breath caught in his throat when you opened the door. “I got the…” he held the plastic bag up. “I got the stuff.”
 You laughed and stepped back to let him inside. “You make it sound like we’re about to do drugs.”
 Yeah, something like that.
 Mingi didn’t say anything when you sat him on your bed and straddled his hips. He whimpered a little bit when you pressed your lips to his, and you assumed that it was just because he was horny. 
 You held the side of his neck and worked your tongue against his, rolling your hips forward to grind against his growing bulge. He whimpered again, and you moved your face down to suck on his neck. 
 “I think you need to finger me first,” you whispered in his ear.
 “W-what?” He blinked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and starry before he shyly looked away. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to do that.”
 “It can’t be that hard, right? You just take your fingers and, like… put them in me.”
 “I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”
 “Well… I’ll just tell you what feels good, okay? I do it to myself all the time.”
 His eyes snapped up again as he imagined you touching yourself. He’d thought about it before, late at night when he was jerking off, but hearing you say it out loud made him feel dizzy. Flames erupted across his cheeks again, and his body tensed.
 Your face burned with the realization of your confession. “Stop picturing it.”
 “S-sorry.”
 “I just need your fingers first, okay? I can’t… I can’t take your dick without some prep first.”
 It was like you wanted him to cum in his pants again. He nodded and reached for the plastic bag, fishing out the lube and taking it out of its little purple box. 
 “I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way.” His voice was quiet.
 “There’s nothing to be sorry about. That’s why we’re doing this together, you know? Because we feel safe around each other.”
 He nodded.
 “But for the record…” You lowered your head, still embarrassed about how yesterday went. “I’m sorry, too.”
 “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled.
 You kissed him, and you were so glad that you were kissing him. 
 “I’m really going to need you to walk me through this because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” His cheeks were a splotchy red. 
 You laughed. “I promise it sounds scarier than it actually is.” You pulled your shirt over your head, embarrassed again when you realized you were wearing the same purple bra that you wore yesterday.
 “Shit,” you breathed. “I meant to wear something nicer for you today. Sorry.”
 For me? Mingi thought. For me? 
 But he said, “I like this one. It’s cute.” And he touched the little bow again.
 “Thanks.” You climbed off of his lap to take your shorts off. “Lift your arms.”
 He obeyed, and you lifted his shirt over his head. It didn’t need to be off yet, you supposed, but you’d been dreaming about Mingi’s lean abdomen all day and you didn’t want to wait another second to have it under your fingertips again. 
 You laid down on the bed and slid your panties off, but didn’t spread your legs yet. You felt vulnerable again, especially considering that Mingi still had his pants on. 
 “C-can you–” you started.
 “Yeah,” Mingi nodded, already unbuttoning his pants. When they were off, he sat back down and gently brushed his fingertips over your thigh. 
 “Okay,” he breathed. “Tell me what to do.”
 “Just… just kiss me for a second.” The truth was, you weren’t even really sure how to give him instructions, and you wanted to buy yourself some time. You usually just felt around until something felt good, and you weren’t sure how to explain that to him.
 He kissed you. You decided that even if he was always too big for you, even if you couldn’t ever take his full length, you’d probably be just as happy kissing him and jerking him off like you did last night.
 You felt his hand on your inner thigh and you liked the feeling. 
 “Okay, so…” you inhaled deeply. “Just start with one. And you can just kinda… feel around? I’ll tell you what feels good.”
 “Okay,” he nodded, taking a deep breath, too. “Okay.”
 He dripped some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb in an attempt to warm it up. Your body tensed as you felt his finger slide between your folds, shaking slightly as he rubbed you up and down.
 He seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His eyes just raked over your body, all wide and starry while he clumsily touched you. 
 “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
 “M-Mingi, Ah-” You let out a tiny yelp when his fingertip brushed your clit.
 “Did I hurt you?” He immediately stopped, taking his fingers away. 
 “N-no, that felt good… really good…” You nodded. 
 He tried to find the spot again, clumsily drawing circles around it.
 “S-so good. Yeah, r-right there,” you sighed.
 His fingertip slipped a little too far to the left. 
 “N-no, back where it was.”
 After a few seconds of “Here?” and “No, here,” back and forth, he found the spot again and gently traced it. 
 Your eyes rolled back and closed as your body twitched, trying to get used to the sensation of being touched by another person. 
 Then his fingers slid further down, but it was intentional this time. 
 Mingi looked you in the eye and didn’t say anything as he gently circled his fingertip around your opening, coating it in lube and spreading your arousal at the same time. 
 You didn’t say anything, either. You couldn’t if you tried. But he understood your tiny nod and the look of desperation in your eyes, so he gently pushed his finger inside. 
 His long, thick finger went deeper than your own ever had, but it didn’t hurt. “O-ohh,” you breathed, shivering.
 Mingi was at a loss for words. Your pussy was hugging his finger so tight and you felt so warm and the tiny noises that you were making were about to send him over the edge. “Fuck…” he sharply inhaled through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling for a minute so that he didn’t cum untouched.
 “M-Mingi,” you breathed, “Go like this.” And then you held a finger up and curved it inward, and he immediately obeyed.
 Your back arched to a borderline uncomfortable degree as you let out a pathetic little noise, and Mingi seriously was on the edge of an orgasm already.
 “I-is that a sensitive spot?”
 “Do it again,” you commanded. “Mingi, do that again.”
 He did, and then he did it a few more times, pumping his finger and setting a rhythm. You were probably being a little too squirmy, but you couldn’t help it. Nothing had ever felt like this before. 
 “Fuck,” you breathed. “Add another one.”
 Mingi meant to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but his head was so fuzzy with arousal that he just obeyed, pushing his middle finger in next to his pointer finger.
 “S-shit,” you gasped, sitting up and holding his wrist. “Hold on a sec– fuck.”
 “Are you okay?”
 “It feels good,” you nodded. “Just forgot how thick these are.”
 He understood. He could almost feel you stretching out, and he suddenly felt horribly guilty for not offering to do this before he attempted to put his dick inside of you yesterday.
 “You’re doing amazing,” he encouraged you, nodding slightly. “J-just let me know when you want more, okay?”
 “C-can you…” You blushed, too shy to complete your sentence. 
 He knit his eyebrows at you, giving you an encouraging nod. He felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he tried not to groan.
 “What do you need, baby?” He soothed, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
 Your face burned. Mingi had never been more attractive to you, with his lips swollen and his cheeks flaming and his fingers deep inside of you. He was gently thrusting his fingers, massaging your g-spot, tracing your opening, and stretching you out all in a fluid motion.
 “C-can you play with my clit again while you do that?” You whispered. 
 He nodded immediately, smiling and circling his thumb around your pebbled clit. 
 “O-ohh…” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. “Oh my god…”
 He swallowed roughly. “G-good…” He encouraged as he felt you slowly relax around his fingers.
 Your back arched, tiny little whimpers escaping you as Mingi made love to you with his hand. 
 And he was barely holding it together. He could feel the tip of his dick sticking to his boxers, precum smearing against the fabric and providing his cockhead with the tiniest bit of friction every time he moved his hips. 
 “Do you want one more? Or are you good with two?” His voice was hoarse. 
 “I d-on’t—“ You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you felt the tiny spark of an orgasm in your core. “D-don’t think I can take a third…”
 Mingi nodded, and then he kissed your forehead. He wanted to speak, but he was putting all of his effort into keeping up a steady rhythm with his hand and not coming in his pants while your tensed thigh rubbed his dick. 
 And then it was silent for a few moments, except for the quiet squelching coming from between your legs every few seconds. 
 “I think I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. Focusing on that feeling, chasing it.
 Mingi swallowed, his breath catching. “Mm.” He hummed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. 
 Your breath caught in your throat, the rest of it escaping in a choked whimper. “F-faster…” You breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”
 He nodded, quickening his movements. You leaned up, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you got closer and closer.
 You were quieter than you thought you’d be. As your orgasm approached, you hardly made any noise at all, save for a few little gasps. 
 Your mouth dropped open and you pressed your forehead to your lover’s, letting out one single moan as your orgasm clenched down on his fingers. It ran through your body in waves, your muscles tensing and releasing rhythmically.
 “My god…” Mingi groaned, continuing his movements. “G-Good job, baby.”
 You squeaked, gently pushing his hand away as you neared overstimulation. His brows furrowed as he worried that he’d hurt you, but you immediately eased his anxiety by holding the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his again.
 “Felt so good…” You mumbled through kisses. “T-think I’m ready now…”
 His heart fluttered as he felt your hand between his legs, stroking his sensitive thighs. And then he looked at you in a way that a boy had never looked at you before, with big, dark, sparkling, pleading eyes. Like he needed you.
 So gently, like you were afraid he’d break, you slipped his dick out of his blue plaid boxers. He was so hard, so sticky and pulsing that you were sure he must have been in pain. “Thank you for making me feel good,” you whispered. “I know it must have been hard to wait…”
 He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Don’t thank me.” He let out a tiny noise as you stroked him once. “I loved it,” he breathed. “I loved doing that for you.”
 You smiled, kissing him again. “Take these off,” you pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 
 Mingi pushed them down, kicking them off the bed at his feet. And then he was fully naked, hovering above you, also fully naked. It should have been scary, but you’d never felt more safe. You reached your arms behind him, stroking his back before sliding your hands down to teasingly squeeze his ass.
 He let out a choked noise and you laughed. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You have a really nice ass.”
 He shook his head, laughing and kissing you again.
 “You’re really beautiful, Mingi.” You whispered, feeling another pang in your core as he groaned at the praise. 
 He reached a hand up, squeezing your breast as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. His heavy cock rested on your belly, clear precum sticking to your soft skin. 
 You reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully ripping it open. His eyes didn’t leave your face as you gently rolled it onto him, your small hand wrapping around his girth. You slid his tip between your folds, then coated it in even more lube. You knew it might still hurt a little bit, but you felt much more prepared for it this time. 
 “The second it starts to hurt,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You tell me.”
 You nodded. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, and didn’t look away when his tip was aligned with your entrance. 
 But his eyes fluttered shut a bit when he slipped inside. He couldn’t help it.
 Your gasp made him open his eyes again. “Are you okay?”
 “Mmh–” You nodded, your voice high pitched and squeaky. He pushed forward, filling you, stretching you, making you his.
 “Mingi…” You whined, tears blurring your vision. “S-so big…”
 He kissed away the first tear that fell. “I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Y-You’re doing so well.”
 He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length. 
 “Is it…” You looked up at him with teary eyes. “Is it all the way in yet?”
 “Not yet.” His eyes were full of empathy and adoration. “Can you take any more? It’s okay if you can’t.”
 You whimpered. “S’big, Mingi.”
 “I know, baby, I know it’s big. Does it feel good? D-Does it hurt?”
 “It feels…” you trailed off. “It feels good but it hurts. I dunno if I can take any more.”
 “That’s okay,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “You feel s-so good just like this.”
 “R-really?”
 “Yes,” he nodded. “You feel amazing. So… so fucking good.” He gritted his teeth as he spoke, shaking and sweating and forcing himself to not instinctively start fucking you hard and fast. “Can I move a little bit now?”
 “Yes,” you nodded. “Slow, please.”
 He pulled back so that only the very end of his tip was dipped into your opening, then shakily pushed forward in a single stroke, a little over three quarters of the way inside. 
 Tears stung his and your eyes. You felt better than anything he’d ever felt before, and the stretching sensation was starting to feel more pleasant than painful. 
 “I’m so…” he whimpered. “I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well.”
 “Mingi…” you whined in response, clawing at his back. “F-feels good.”
 “Yeah?” His eyes met yours. “It feels good?”
 “Mmm. I want… want you to fuck me. B-but slow, okay?”
 He visibly shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as his whole body became covered in goosebumps. 
 “T-tell me if it’s too much.”
 He attempted to set a pace then, slowly pushing and pulling his hips to halfway-fuck you as gently as he possibly could. Little moans slipped from your lips in time with his thrusts.
 “Ungh…” he whimpered, “God. F-feels so good. You’re so…” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
 “Mingi…” You rested your hand on his cheek. “Kiss.”
 He didn’t need to be told twice. His perfectly full lips gently kissed yours, softly massaging his tongue into your mouth while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of you. You were embarrassed that you couldn’t take his whole length yet, but you decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be the last time you did this with him, and you had all the time in the world to train for the entirety of him. 
 “Fuck…” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m… I’m close. I’m sorry.”
 “You are?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a moan slipping from your lips when his thrusts got a bit faster. 
 That was fast, you thought, but it was his first time, you supposed. You hoped he had good stamina, because you didn’t want this night to be anywhere close to over.
 “I c-can’t…” His hips were starting to shake a bit. “God, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight.”
 “Ming…” you whispered, holding his face. “I wanna make you cum. Want you to cum for me.”
 “Oh, fuck…” he whimpered. “God, f-fuck-“
 His voice cracked as his eyes squeezed shut, his belly tensing and his lips dropping open in a silent moan. 
 And for a few seconds, time didn’t exist. There was only him and you and your bodies, like this was how you were always meant to be. You felt his big hand on your waist and his thick length stretching you out, but you also felt that same comforting atmosphere that always followed him around. You saw his face, the one that you knew so well, contorted in pleasure, and you heard his familiar voice making unfamiliar noises. And there was no one in the world you’d rather do this with. There was no one else you wanted to kiss. 
 “I love you.”
 He cried out as he came, curling in on himself and burying his face in your neck as he pulled out so just his tip was inside, pumping the condom full of his load. 
 He pulled out and rested his cock on your belly, huffing in your neck as he caught his breath. 
 You stroked his hair and swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. 
 You said it. You told him out loud and you’d never be able to take it back. 
 He just kept breathing down your neck, sweaty and shaking and wondering if he heard you right. 
 “I– I tried not to…” you breathed. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. You’re my best friend and you mean more to me than anyone else. But I just…” 
 You swallowed. There was really no going back now. 
 “I see you smiling and it hits me like a steamroller. Like my chest is knocked in and I can’t breathe. It feels… It feels like I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it or make it go away.”  
 You felt his large hand hold your jaw, and his lips were on yours. 
 “Please… be my girlfriend,” he mumbled, breathless between kisses.
 You pulled back to look in his eyes. “What?”
 “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Please, please, please be my girlfriend.”
 Your face broke a little bit. “You have?”
 He nodded, and then his face broke, too. “Please say yes.” He held your face, looking deep into your eyes. “P-please, baby.”
 “Obviously yes,” you smiled, tears so close to spilling from your eyes. “Dummy.”
 “I love you,” he cried, kissing you again. “I love you so fucking much.”
 “Mingi,” you breathed, for no reason other than to say his name. 
 He kissed you and cried and you kissed him and cried, and he suddenly remembered what Yunho said. A nice way to show her I really care. 
 He kissed down your neck, across your chest, on your nipples, over your belly, until his shoulders were between your thighs.
 “W-what are you doing?” You asked, looking down at him a little too innocently.
 “I don’t really know,” he sighed, leaning forward and kissing your dewy pussy.
 “A-ah! Mingi!” Your legs instinctively closed around his head, and his big hands gently pried them open again. 
 “It’s okay…” he breathed, leaning forward again. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sweetly kissed your inner thigh before spreading you with his tongue.
 You whimpered and squirmed, grabbing a fistful of his soft dark hair. 
 “You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your clit, “And you taste so good…”
 His thick, plump lips worked with his velvet tongue to worship your pussy. And it was loud, the room filled with wet sounds and Mingi’s groans, along with the pathetic little moans you were letting out. 
 You looked down at him. His ears and cheeks were dark red, his eyes closed, the sharp tip of his nose shiny and wet. 
 “T-that feels really good, Ming—“ You were interrupted by your own gasp as his tongue slipped into your entrance. 
 “You’re mine now…” His deep voice sounded gravelly and thick. “You’re all fucking mine…”
 “Mingi…” You whimpered, lacing your fingers through his hair as his lips sweetly sucked your clit. How did you learn how to do this? You wanted to ask. 
 But he was moaning against you again before the thought could finish. “I’m gonna do this every fuckin’ day…” He blinked slowly, a string of drool connecting his lips and your pussy. He used his broad shoulders to push your legs open even wider, taking a deep breath before diving back in. 
 This time, he slipped two fingers inside of you while he worked his tongue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of you while he passionately used his fingers and tongue. 
 “I’ve dreamed of this…” He paused to kiss your inner thighs. “Wanted this for so long… needed to know what you tasted like.”
 “Mingi…” You breathed, watching as his pink tongue drew circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna cum again…”
 “Yes,” he groaned, never coming up for air. “Please, baby. Come in my mouth. I wanna taste all of it, please… wanna lick you clean.”
 Hearing those filthy words come from shy, sweet Mingi’s mouth made your stomach flutter. Your thighs clenched around his head as he gave you the most enthusiastic slurp of the night, the otherwise silent room filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you. 
 You moaned so loud when you came that there was no doubt in your mind that your roommates heard. Mingi’s groans of enthusiasm were hardly muted, either. 
 Your thighs twitched, your body shook and your hips pressed against Mingi’s warm mouth as your orgasm consumed you, and you’d never felt more adored in your life.
 And then he didn’t stop. 
 “Mingi!” You cried out, trying to squirm away from his tongue. 
 But he looped his arm under one of your thighs, keeping you pried open. He used his other hand to spread your pussy, groaning as he licked it again. 
 “My girl…” He mumbled, and he seemed to be drunk off the taste of you, talking to himself. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy…” 
 Your eyes widened and you twitched as his tongue flicked inside of you again. You’d never seen this side of Mingi before; you’d never seen anything close to this side of Mingi before… and you really, really didn’t want it to stop. But—
 “I’m really sensitive, Ming…”
 That seemed to snap him out of his trance a bit. He looked up, moving his body up to sweetly kiss your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. You j-just…” He sighed, catching his breath. “You taste so good.”
 You smiled. “I really like it when you call me baby.”
 He kissed your forehead then collapsed on the bed, laying next to you. You rolled onto your side, gently stroking his belly. 
 “Do you feel good?” He asked softly, his full cheeks blushing. “Was that enough?”
 “Enough?” You laughed in disbelief. “It was perfect.” You nodded. “Perfect.”
 “I’ll always make sure you’re satisfied, okay?” Your boyfriend looked you in the eye, his brow slightly furrowed. “A-and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll make sure your belly is always full and your shoes never get dirty.”
 A kiss on his chin, your face in his neck. “It’s just me, Mingi. Just you and me.”
 “Just us…” He mumbled, “Just like always.”
 You nodded and then sat in silence, touching and being touched. He stroked your thigh with his pinky, his eyes on your lips. 
 “In our own little world. Just the two of us.”
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