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#GOOD SECOND IN COMMAND AND GOOD FRIEND RIGHT THERE
nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 
Stupid scarf, you think. 
Stupid door. 
Stupid wind. 
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 
You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 
Stupid Lord Byron. 
Stupid cafe. 
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 
“How did you do that?” 
His cheeks turn slightly pink. 
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 
He was totally in love with me. 
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 
Spencer. Spencer. 
It feels important. 
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 
Spence. 
Reality sets in. 
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away. 
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 
“Who was that?” 
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 
Adorable? Get a grip. 
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 
So that’s cool. 
You’re cool with that. 
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 
Nah. Boys are dumb. 
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh. 
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard. 
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again. 
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 
But his job is important. 
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm. 
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 
“I would.” 
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles. 
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 
He says none of that. 
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird. 
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 
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heauxvibez · 5 hours
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Can You Stand The Reign
warning: smut (18+), @harmshake has inspired me for today's oneshot, so thank her and enjoyyyyy!
"You're such a fucking whore, I swear! I should've listened to everyone who warned me about you!" I unleashed my frustration, my voice cutting through the pulsating energy of the club as I stormed out.
Roman's hand grasped my arm, attempting to halt my furious exit, but I pulled my arm away, shooting him the darkest glare I could muster.
"Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me. I hate you," I spat, not even bothering to gauge his reaction before I turned on my heel and marched away.
Between the booming music and the dim lighting, it seemed like not many eyes were on us, but honestly, I didn't care. He clearly wasn't bothered by being the center of attention, so why should I be?
We'd been craving a night out with friends, a rare treat amidst our busy lives. I was thrilled at the idea of stepping out with my man by my side. He'd cleaned up nicely, looking absolutely irresistible as always. But of course, the good vibes couldn't last for too long. Roman disappeared onto the dance floor with his cousins, and in no time, a repulsive groupie latched onto him, grinding shamelessly. That was the moment I lost it.
As I stormed outside, the rain pounded down mercilessly, drenching me within seconds. I didn't know where to go; I hadn't driven here, and the last place I wanted to be was in a car with him.
Seeking dryness is the shadows of an alley, I unleashed my pent-up emotions, throwing my clutch to the ground and succumbing to a fit of rage. My screams echoed off the walls, swallowed by the downpour that drowned out all other sounds.
My back slid against the cold, wet brick as I sat on the ground. My tears mingled with raindrops as I replayed the scene inside the club. The image of him grinding on another woman burned in my mind.
"Get up." The commanding voice shattered all my thoughts.
"Excuse me?" I shot back, thrown back at the audacity.
"You heard me. Get up," Roman repeated.
"No," I growled back, crossing my arms in stubborn defiance, only to feel strong hands seize my jacket collar, hoisting me up effortlessly.
"Let me go!" I thrashed against his hold, landing a slap to his face.
My attempted slap didn't even move him. Was he some sort of superhuman?
"I dare you to slap me again," he challenged, his brown eyes boring into mine with an intensity that scared me and.. turned me on?
Resisting the urge to lash out again, I swallowed my pride, allowing him to release me to the ground.
As he closed the distance between us, gripping my ponytail and tilting my head back, my body gave in immediately. His tongue traced a path from my neck to my ear, sending my heart beat right into my panties.
"Now be a good girl and come back into the club with me," he whispered, his breath warming my body up from the cold.
"No," I resisted, though my resolve wavered under the weight of his gaze.
"I guess 'no' seems to be your favorite word today, huh baby?" he quipped, his fingers undoing my jacket zipper before I could protest.
"Roman, get off of me," I protested weakly, my anger subsiding despite me still attempting to fight back.
But even as I fought against him, a part of me couldn't deny the thrill of his touch, the way his lips had me in a chokehold.
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.
His fingers fumbled with the buttons of my blouse, but he didn't bother with finesse, tearing the fabric apart with a roughness. His eyes darkened with desire as he noticed I wore no bra beneath. With a shrug, I let the remnants of the shirt fall to the ground, baring myself to him.
I reached around him, releasing his beautiful locks from their confine. His curls tumbled down his back, soaking up the raindrops that threatened to fall down any further.
He attacked my lips with an intensity that caught me off guard. I hadn't intended to respond, but I found myself kissing him back eagerly. Gripping his hair tightly, I pulled hard, wanting him to feel the sting of my anger. He groaned against my lips and sanded his teeth into my bottom lip with force, leaving a bruise in its wake.
"That hurt, you idiot!" I hissed, my frustration boiling over.
He chuckled, "You get what you give, sweetheart.." he retorted, callously discarding my leather jacket onto the cold, wet concrete.
"You're such an asshole," I muttered half-heartedly.
Capturing my nipple between his thumb and index finger, he rolled and pinched it mercilessly. "I enjoy being an asshole," he confessed, before dipping his head down and taking my nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing it with a hint of aggression.
I tugged on his earlobe, a silent plea for gentleness, but he seemed intent on testing my limits. His lips trailed back up my neck, inhaling what was left of my baccarat rouge 540 perfume. He moaned at the scent, it was his favorite.
Lowering the zipper on my jeaned shorts, he smirked at the revelation that I wore no panties. "Fuck, you know just how to turn me on," he murmured against my lips.
Without hesitation, he plunged three fingers inside me. Gripping my jaw firmly, he tilted my head back, locking eyes with me as he relentlessly thrust his fingers in and out, the feeling of him massaging my walls had me at a loss of words.
"Fuck the club, we're heading home," he declared, withdrawing his fingers before plunging them back in forcefully, eliciting moans of approval from my lips.
His kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the roughness of his touch. "I know I fucked up tonight, but I'll make it up to you. I promise," he whispered, his fingers curling inside me, hitting just the right spot.
I cursed loudly, clutching his wet hair as a euphoric wave crashed over me, my body trembling against the cold brick wall.
As I regained my senses, he steadied me with his arm, his fingers lingering in his mouth as he savored the taste of me. His tongue danced between his fingers, and he slurped the lingering juices that threatened to drip down to his palm. A whimper couldn't help but escape my lips at the sight.
He handed me his damp shirt and my jacket, leaving him in a damp undershirt that clung to his glistening muscles.
"Here, put this on for now until we get home,"
Taking his soaked shirt, I pulled it on, my eyes tracing the contours of his body hungrily.
Oh, we're definitely going to finish this when we get home..
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I was not planning on posting today LOL but here ya go :)
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @mzv11 @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx
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levi501ackerman · 1 day
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Allegiance: Part 1 | Levi x Reader
masterlist
Summary: You're a wealthy citizen from Stohess. When the survey corps are in the city, you can't help but fall for a cute captain.
Word Count: 2.7k
Author's Note: Song correlated: Cola by Lana Del Rey. Okay This is going to have to be multiple parts because it's already pretty long and I'm not even near the end. Posted: 4/25/24
You grew up in a large home never worrying about your next meal and you never cleaned anything yourself. Your parents had people employed to do so. Your family was one of many other families who could afford MPs to guard and escort your family. While growing up, MPs escorted you to school, shops, and friends' homes. You wore clothes that fit you right and were cleaned properly. There was food when you wanted and life was easy for you. Your family required you to attend Einrich College and you got a degree in chemistry. Though they did not care about having you employed they just wanted you to remain a person with higher education. They didn’t mind you living at home and they wanted you to marry a man with a similar background. 
You were fortunate enough to be a free-spirited person. You didn’t worry about titans coming to Stohess because of how close to the center your family lived. Most of your time was spent reading, writing, shopping, and being with friends. 
One day your father told you the survey corps was coming to the Military Police Head Quarters in Stohess. The family was going to going to be in attendance at the gala. You and your friends grew up thinking highly of the military and the survey corps. They were so brave and cool for going beyond the walls. However, your adoration for the survey corps depleted around the age of twelve. Your parents prohibited you from joining the cadet corp because they wanted you to attend Einrich College. 
When you were at the gala you stood by your parents like you usually did. You were polite to everyone your parents introduced to and made small talk with each official your parents knew.
“I want to introduce you to my good old pal Erwin Smith.” Your dad said to your mother and then glanced at you. You followed your mother and father toward a small group of people who didn’t look social. A guy with dark hair caught your eye. He had one hand in his pocket and he sipped his tea cup then put it behind him on the table. He was kind of cute. He noticed you looking at him and you offered a soft smile. He didn’t return one. “Commander Erwin of the Survey Corp!” Your father greeted a blonde-haired older man. To your surprise, he hugged your dad. 
“Warren L/N! Long time no see.” Your father and he both had warm smiles. It must have been nice for your father to see a friend from his past. 
“Erwin this is my wife, Cordelia L/N.” Your father motioned towards your mother who respectfully held out a handshake. 
“Commander Erwin Smith, nice to meet you.” She said sweetly.
“Please I’m just Erwin to you.” Then he looked at you next. All you could do was smile. 
“Erwin this is my daughter, Y/N,” Your father said. 
“Y/N, nice to meet you,” Erwin said to you and you stuck out your hand like how your mother did. 
“Y/N graduated from Einrich College with a degree in chemistry.” Your father said and you felt slightly embarrassed because you hated when your parents explained you didn’t need a job. “She was fairly vested in becoming a scout when she was younger.” You looked at the man with black hair to see his reaction. He was just staring at you. His attractive gaze made it hard for you to look at him any longer than a second. 
“I bet you would’ve been a wonderful scout, Y/N,” Erwin said encouragingly. 
“Poor girl can’t even run for more than five minutes.” Your father joked. 
“That’s not true, father.” You said trying to not sound annoyed in front of the attractive man. 
“Chemistry though? You must be easily able to find a secure job.” Erwin suggested and you started feeling embarrassed. 
“Oh, she’s smart, but she hasn’t worked a day in her life. Y/N doesn’t need to get a job.” Your mother said lightly but the shame felt heavy. You stayed quiet and couldn’t look at anyone in the eye. 
“I’ve been interested in jobs. I just haven’t found anything that interests me.” You said.
“Well, section commander Hange Zoe—” Erwin motioned to the cute woman next to him. “—studies and experiments on captured titans.” Your parents greeted and shook her hand. She seemed fairly inviting and energetic.
“Yes, titans have interested me—” You noticed the man with the dark hair roll his eyes. “—ever since I kicked a head and it was super light! We haven’t done much biological research on the titans. However, any information we collect is one step closer to solving their mysteries!” She said enthusiastically. 
“Wow, I didn’t think there was a branch of the survey corp that experimented on the titans.” You said. You could feel the obsession with the survey corp from your youth slightly return. Only if. 
“Yup! Just me and my assistant Moblit! We captured many titans!” Hange said.
“Are you looking for another research assistant?” You asked, thinking it could be a great opportunity to be in the survey corps.
“Unfortunately, Hange’s research is only a small part of the survey corps. You would still need to graduate from the Cadet Corp to be Hange’s assistant.” Erwin said earnestly. You looked at your parents who didn’t let you join. Erwin seemed like he understood that you wanted to join if you had the choice. 
“Well, I guess I could always join later right? There’s no age limit?” 
“You’d most likely be with a bunch of twelve to fifteen-year-olds. Not something you would enjoy.” Your father said.
“But I’d only be with them for three years and then I could make friends with people my age.” You said. 
“Captain Levi joined a little unconventionally.” Erwin motioned to the guy with dark hair. Captain Levi. So that’s his name. 
“Nice to meet you, Captain Levi.” You said holding out your hand eager for him to touch you. He looked at your hand and then your eyes. Then he shook your hand. Your heartbeat increased a little. “You joined the cadet corps older than the average?” 
“Again he joined the survey corp unconventionally. I recruited him because he excelled with the ODM gear by teaching himself.” Erwin said. You had to face the fact that you missed the age to join the survey corp. You realized deep down you wouldn’t enjoy being with twelve-year-olds like your father said.
“Wow, you taught yourself? That’s really impressive.” You said and looked into his eyes. You hoped he thought he found you pretty. “You are all a smart group of people. How long has it been since you last saw my dad, Commander Erwin?” 
“Over maybe twenty years?” Erwin turned to your father.
“Huh, time flies.” Your father said.
“Could they come over for dinner, Father?” You asked hoping for more time to get to know the three. “It would give you more time to catch up? And I could get to know more about Hange’s experiments?” Hange’s face lit up and you looked at Levi who had the same expression on his face. “Maybe we could get to know each other more.” You eyed him up and down despite him not seeming to warm up to you. You wanted him to know you found him attractive. 
“Why not?! Erwin are you and your officials available to come over and eat before leaving Stohess?” Your Father asked wholeheartedly. 
“I think we’ll have time in two evenings,” Erwin said.
“We could have chicken—” Your mother started.
“Mother no! Let’s have braised beef.” You said.
During the rest of the gala, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing at the survey corps. A few times Levi and you locked eyes. You wanted to keep looking at him but remained focused on every one your parents introduced you to. Why did your father have to mention you barely being able to run? Sure you didn’t run much, but you could improve if you worked at it. Now Levi only knows that you have poor stamina. You needed to find a way to make a good impression on Levi. Perhaps a small gift would make him remember you? And you have a day to find one before the survey corp came over for dinner. 
The following day, you begged your mom to disregard your intention to interrupt reading time. You wanted to go shopping in town to find something for Levi. When you told your mom about wanting to find a small gift for Levi she teased you. You instantly regretted it, however, she let you miss reading time to go into town. You asked her to promise you that she won’t tell Levi about the gift until you give it to him. Your mother had one condition about going into town. She told you that you had to have MPs escort you.
In your teen years, you’ve argued with your parents that there was no need for the Military Police to escort you. After graduating from Einrich College you were especially adamant about it. Most of the time it was a losing battle. 
You combed your hair and made sure it lay nicely. You put on pearls and made sure your clothes looked nice. You put on a nice full-length dress that hasn’t been worn yet. The dress made your hair color look pretty and stand out. 
When you were heading to leave you thought you could sneak out the front door without the MPs. Of course, they followed you and you rolled your eyes because your mother assigned two. One would have been enough. The two MPs with you have been the few employed with your family most of your life. 
When walking through the shops with the MPs following you, nothing caught your eye for what Levi may like. It was a gamble because you didn’t know much about him. You wanted to find something small and something he could have with him at all times to remember you. You hoped Levi would like the gift and then start falling for you. Though he did not seem like the kind of guy your parents wanted you to marry. He was a high-ranking official for the survey corps though.
When walking out of a clothing shop you spotted Erwin across the street. He seemed to be alone, no Levi or Hange with him 
“Commander Erwin!” You waved and then ran after him the MPs shouted at you not to run and they burst after you. “Hi, commander! Are you out shopping? Are you alone?” He seemed surprised to see you and he glanced at the MPs on either side of you.
“Hello Y/N. Nice day isn’t it?” He said politely. 
“Yes! Is Levi here?” You asked. “And Hange?” 
“They’re nearby. Possibly getting something in that shop over there,” Erwin pointed at a small cafe that you’ve been to many times. 
“It’s so nice to see you! I’m excited for you to come over tomorrow. I’m just in town to buy a gift for Levi but DON’T TELL HIM!” You said excitedly.
“A gift?” Erwin furrowed his eyebrows. 
“Yes! But please don’t tell him!” You said. He laughed at your youth.
“I won’t.”
“Thanks! I’m going to talk to him and Hange! See you tomorrow!” You waved and dashed off to the cafe along with the MPs being forced to chase after you. 
“MISS L/N! STOP RUNNING!” They yelled. When you got to the cafe in the window you saw Levi and Hange inside. They were sitting at a table with a small plate of treats and cups of tea. Your heart raced. Levi looked so cute sitting there. You turned to the MPs you had known most of your life.
“Do I look okay?” You asked.
“Yes, Miss L/N. Please no more running.” 
“I’m sorry,” You said. When you walked in the owner who had known you most of your life gave you a big smile when he spotted you. 
“Miss L/N! Your usual?” He asked and you saw Levi and Hange looking at you. You waved at them and you grinned. 
“Yes thank you!” You walked over to Levi and Hange. Hange looked excited to see you and Levi looked normal. “Hi Hange, hi Levi.”
“Y/N! What a coincidence!” Hange cheerfully said. 
“Hi,” Levi said and sipped his tea. They both glanced at the MPs on either side of you. 
“Are you drinking the black tea?” You asked. “This place has the best black tea! I’ve come here since I was a child.”
“Yes, it’s good,” Levi said.
“Wonderful!” You said. “I’m excited for you guys to come over for dinner! I know you’ll like the braised beef!” 
“What are you doing in town?” Hanged asked.
“I’m out shopping!” Levi rolled his eyes and though you didn’t feel offended, you knew soon he would be grateful for the gift you’re going to find. “Hey, it’s rude to roll your eyes!” You shoved his shoulder playfully yet hard enough to catch him off guard. Hange laughed. 
“She got you there, Levi.” 
“Yeah Levi, good thing my parents didn’t let me in the cadet corp, I would beat you up.” You said hoping he would laugh. Hange did. 
“Not bad for a spoiled brat like you.” He said with a smirk and wiped off his shoulder. 
“Hey, I’m not a spoiled brat!” You shoved him a little harder. 
“Miss L/N, he’s humanity's strongest soldier.” One of your MPs said chuckling.
“Yeah, well, that’s only because I’m not in the military regiment.” You and Hange laughed. “Are you guys enjoying Stohess? What do you think of the town?” You asked. The owner of the cafe brought over your usual: a chocolate pastry. “Thank you!” Then the kind owner brought over a chair for you to sit on. 
“It’s a nice district, very clean,” Hange said. You looked to Levi and raised his eyebrows waiting for a response. 
“Very clean is correct.” You found his voice fairly attractive. 
“Wonderful! Stohess is one of the districts with great architecture too.” You said. You started splitting your chocolate pastry into three equal parts. “Here try this it’s delicious!” You offered to Hange and Levi.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Hange said and took a bite. She moaned. Levi took a bite too.
“It’s tasty, thank you,” Levi said.
“You liked that? I don’t think it’s hard to make. Maybe I can try to learn to make it for you.” You said with hope and Levi just stared at you. You smiled at him and noticed him looking up and down at you. Your heart skipped a beat because it seemed like he was checking you out. “I’m excited for you guys to come over tomorrow and I can get to know you both more! I’d love to hear more about your experiments with the titans!” Hange perked up.
“Yes, I am ready for any questions you have. Perhaps your knowledge in chemistry will provide some ideas on gathering more information about the titans?”
“Oh I’m not sure about that, but I’ll do my best.” You noticed the door of the cafe open and Erwin stepping in. Suddenly you felt a wave of embarrassment when he looked at you and then at Levi. “Okay, I should get back to my shopping! I’ll see you tomorrow night then?! Bye!”
“Bye Y/N!” Hange said. You rush off with your MPs following you.
“Bye Commander Erwin!” You rushed off not giving a chance for him to speak.
You spent the rest of the day looking for something for Levi. As the sun started going behind the wall it felt hopeless. Nothing seemed like something Levi would like. The MPs suggested making your way back home, but you kept bargaining for just one more store. While walking past a window display of a store, you realized you may have found your gift. It was a little unconventional, but maybe Levi will remember you even when he leaves Stohess. It was perfect he could always keep your gift with him and it was small. Levi will never forget you after you give him your gift.
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in1-nutshell · 1 day
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Maxima meeting Team Bee
SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader
RiD 2015
Maxima was not having a good time.
She had been searching for Bumblebee non-stop after he went radio silent for the past couple of weeks.
Maxima had been looking all around, asking for favors, and taking long hours to find him.
Until she got a vision from her late father.
Optimus Prime.
She thought she had finally joined him in the Well because she felt her spark pulsing out of her chassis.
He looked just how he had when… when…
His booming voice reached her audials like a nostalgic song.
Her own voice constricted in her throat.
Optimus tells her to go to Earth to help Bumblebee and his team.
A portal opened in front of her.
Without a second thought, Maxima ran in.
She lands straight into a scrapyard.
Maxima carefully looks around the place for any sign of hostilities.
She finds her first one in the form of a giant green Dinobot.
Grimlock had just come over to this corner of the scrapyard to find something Sideswipe mentioned.
Which now thinking about, sounded made up.
He did notice the mysterious bot in the corner though.
Grimlock and Maxima stared at each other for a bit.
“Ummm… can I help you?”--Grimlock
Maxima shakes her helm a bit and points at her Autobot badge.
“Friendly.”--Maxima
Grimlock relaxes a bit seeing that it was a friendlier bot.
“And actually I could use some help.”--Maxima
“Oh okay! What do you need help with?”--Grimlock
“I’m looking for a friend of mine. I was told I could find him here.”--Maxima
Grimlock scratches his helm a bit.
“I don’t know too much about finding bots. BUT Fix-it might know! C’mon! I’ll even introduce you to the team!”--Grimlock
Maxima smiles at the infectious grin on the Dinobot.
“Lead the way… what’s your name?”--Maxima
“Grimlock! And yours?”--Grimlock
“Maxima.”--Maxima
“That’s a nice name.”--Grimlock
“So is yours.”--Maxima
The two talk and walk to what looked like the main area.
There were three bots and an orange minibot on a ship console that was partially buried in the mountain.
The three bots immediately pulled out their weapons seeing Maxima with Grimlock.
“Hey! Hey! She’s a bot like us!”--Grimlock
“And how do you know she isn’t just lying?”--Strongarm
Maxima squints her optics a bit at Strongarm.
“Now why do you look familiar…”--Maxima
Drift steps forward.
“What is your reason for being here?”--Drift
“Grimlock was taking me to see a ‘Fix-it’.”--Maxima
“That’s me!”—Fix-it
Maxima looks over at the orange minibot.
“And why would you need to see Fix-it?”--Sideswipe
“She’s looking for a friend, right?”--Grimlock
“Yeah—Wait! Your Strongarm aren’t you?”--Maxima
“How do you know my name?”--Strongarm
“Team, we have a situation—”--Bumblebee
Everyone looks at Bumblebee.
Bee looks optics with Maxima.
“Maxima?”--Bumblebee
Maxima gives a smile while walking over to him.
“So, this is where you’ve been?”--Maxima
“Yeah—”--Bumblebee
Maxima slaps the back of his helm.
“Hey!”--Bumblebee
“That’s for leaving without letting me know.”--Maxima
Maxima pulls him in a denting hug.
“Thank the Primes you’re okay…”--Maxima
Bee, feeling a bit guilty, hugs back.
“…When did we get a new bot?”--Russel
“Sweet Solus Prime Bee! You already got found by humans again?!”—Maxima
Maxima makes a quick first impression with everyone on the team.
She makes it clear to Bee that she isn’t going to leave him high and dry.
Bumblebee is glad to have an extra pair of servos helping around.
She becomes his unofficial, official second in Command of the Team.
If he is being honest, he was a bit afraid of Maxima taking the reigns of the team and leading.
Maybe she would have a better chance at leading like her father.
“All I’m saying is that you could definitely lead the team.”--Bumblebee
“Yeah, if I must. I wouldn’t want your job, Bee.”--Maxima
“But you’re a natural leader, just like Optimus was.”—Bumblebee
Maxima pauses for a split second before turning back to her work.
“A natural leader? Yeah, that’s just called ‘Survive long enough for the original leader to come back.’ Bee, do you not think your team would riot if you gave me the command?”--Maxima
“Well…”--Bumblebee
Maxima gives him a stern look.
“You’re a good leader Bee—”--Maxima
“But I’m not Optimus!”--Bumblebee
Both look at each other in silence.
“Maxima… I didn’t mean--”--Bumblebee
“Bumblebee. No one wants you to be Optimus. Not Strongarm, not Sideswipe, not Drift, not Grimlock, and defiantly not me. We want you. You and all of your flaws, terrible jokes and racing stripes.”--Maxima
Bee looks down a bit.
Maxima pats his shoulders in reassurance.
“…I miss him too; I miss him so much Bee. But right now, I think he’d want me to talk some sense into you. So here it is. The leader who you are now, that’s what this team needs. I’ll step in when its needed and give advice, but I’m not going to lead your team, got that Bee?”--Maxima
“Yeah… Thanks for talking sense into my processor.”—Bumblebee
Maxima flicks his door wings a bit.
“Someone has to. Consider it my job to look after your bumbling behind.”—Maxima
Bumblebee swats one of Maxima’s tires.
“Hey!”--Bumblebee
It was quick work to get along with most of Team Bee.
Maxima, Strongarm and Sideswipe made regular sparing partners.
Who knew that a monster truck could have agility?
Not them apparently.
Sideswipe is a bit let down that he can’t patrol with Maxima due to her alt mode drawing too much attention.
But off-road patrols are the best ones yet.
Maxima lets him do stuff on patrol that Bumblebee doesn’t let him.
Strongarm respects Maxima for being a former team member of the legendary Team Prime.
Though there was a time where her respect was more on a ‘tolerance level’ than genuine respect.
Strongarm did think that Maxima was a little bit like Sideswipe but didn’t really vocalize it too much.
That was until Sideswipe tried to take advantage of Maxima’s lax and got in trouble.
Maxima was the first on the scene.
Maxima and the team looking at Grimlock stuck in a rock arch.
Bumblebee and Maxima turn back to Sideswipe with, both with arms crossed.
“Sideswipe. What you did was reckless and endangered not only yourself, but also Grimlock.”--Bumblebee
“It was not my fault that Grimlock fell in the rock! If he’d—”--Sideswipe
“Grimlock was your partner for patrol today, Sideswipe. You both are supposed to have each other’s backs, not just one. If we wanted solo patrols, we would have authorized that. You put yourself and Grimlock in danger when you started blaring the music too loud and got ambushed. Which brings us here.”--Maxima
Grimlock was stuck in his Dinobot mode and stuck on a rock arch.
“It could be worse. Anyways Grims fine, aren’t ya!”--Sideswipe
Grimlock groans a bit.
“Yeah I’m fine… when did we get another Drift… and Strongarm…”--Grimlock
Maxima looks at him unamused and turns to Strongarm.
“Strongarm, take Sideswipe back to the scrapyard, I got Grimlock. We’ll be taking the scenic route to get back before the sun comes up.”--Maxima
“What!?”--Sideswipe
“What?”--Strongarm
“You heard Maxima.”--Bumblebee
“Maxima, with all due respect, how are you going to get Grimlock out by yourself? Let alone get him back home in one piece?”--Strongarm
Maxima walks over to the arch and punches the rock at an angle.
The rock crumbles releasing Grimlock with a small thud.
Everyone was stunned by this.
“H-how—”--Drift
Maxima throws Grimlock over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and starts the opposite path.
She stops momentarily and turns back slightly.
“You better have a good apology when you get back to the scrapyard Sideswipe because I can get pretty creative with enforcement when I want to.”
Maxima and Grimlock disappear from view.
“…”—Team Bee
Sideswipe looks at Bumblebee.
“Did you know she was that strong?”—Sideswipe
Bumblebee shrugs almost looking smug.
“She’s wrestled with Predacons bigger than Grimlock, Sideswipe. And she isn’t kidding about the ‘creative enforcements. Either.”--Bumblebee
Bumblebee transforms and drives out.
“That didn’t answer the question!”—Sideswipe
“Did he mention Predacons?”—Drift
“… Lets just get back home.”--Strongarm
 Strongarm defiantly looks at Maxima in a different light after that night.
She sees her as another mentor figure alongside Bumblebee.
Drift was a bit on edge with Maxima joining the team.
He did give the benefit of the doubt considering that Maxima was on Team Prime with Bumblebee during the war.
She couldn’t be bad if Bee tolerated her.
Drift truly began to open when his former master came back taunting him for his Decepticon past.
Maxima did not judge him or give him pity sympathy.
She earned some respect points from him that day.
The minis like to hang out with Maxima whenever they have a break.
She will come to the mini’s defense at any moment, something that he is grateful for.
Maxima shielding the mini’s with her frame from the Decepticon.
“Wrong move Con. Wrong move.”--Maxima
Maxima judo flips the Con and drop kicks him to Drift’s pedes knocked out.
“Where did you learn that kick?”--Drift
Maxima shrugged.
“Mulan.”--Maxima
“What’s Mulan.”--Drift
“…Russel! I have the perfect movie for tonight!”—Maxima
Grimlock liked Maxima from day 1.
She already seemed like a nice bot and boy was he right!
Of all the team, his favorite sparring partner was Maxima.
She could take in more hits and more time than most of the members of the team.
And did he mention how strong she was?
Sometimes Grimlock would start arm wrestling matches between the two of them on slower days in the scrapyard.
It was always fun to see how long each other would struggle to bring the other one down.
Bets have been made those days.
Bumblebee currently has the best luck in the betting pool for Maxima, which many don’t think its fair considering that he has known Maxima for longer, therefore, knows more about her than they do.
Drift and Sideswipe are tied at the bottom of the betting pool.
Grimlock also likes how Maxima refuses to hear the team treat him less.
That being said…
The team has learned that the duo sometimes cannot be left alone for too long.
“Hey, has anyone seen Maxima?”--Bumblebee
“Now that you’ve said it, I haven’t seen Grimlock either.”--Russel
“I’m sure they’re fine.”--Denny
BOOM!
Grimlock comes in running fast in.
“Coming through!”--Grimlock
Bumblebee quickly grabbed Denny and Russel and moved out of the Dinobot’s way.
“Grimlock!”--Bumblebee
“Sorry! Gotta catch this time!”--Grimlock
“Catch wh—”--Denny
Maxima comes descending from the sky.
Grimlock dives and manages to catch her in his arms.
“You finally caught me Grimmy!”--Maxima
Grimlock has a huge smile on his faceplate.
“Now its my turn!”--Grimlock
“Grimlock no!”—Bumblebee and Denny
“Grimlock yes!”—Maxima and Grimlock
Grimlock, with Maxima still in his arms, runs back the same way they came in.
Bumblebee sighs tiredly but lets out a soft smile.
“I’d just like to think what Optimus would say right now if he say her like this.”—Bumblebee
“Why Optimus exactly?”—Denny
“Oh yeah you two don’t know. Maxima is Optimus’s daughter.”—Bumblebee
“SHE’S WHAT!?”—Denny and Russel
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x. average sci-fi milf
#he's so star wars imperial. so star trek starfleet command uniform. to me.#myevilposts#pete wentz#he just looks like he's five seconds away from giving a monologue made up of mostly dumb sci-fi jargon for me to spend#five hours at least dissecting relative to the rest of the then lore vs current lore/the recontextualized emotion behind his character#that wasn't established for at least another decade. tbh!#or rip this tunic off to reveal a white tank top underneath and go crawling through a fucked up insane looking#computer room looking ass engine room on the space ship he was stationed as second or third command on. tbh.#in an effort to save his co-workers/co-habitants/friends/family/humanity itself from the ship going down by sabotage and#he winds up having to dig deep into his psyche and confront some hard truths about himself and the horrors#of capitalism before whipping out a blaster and shooting up the shape shifting monster that was hiding itself as a crate in the corner.#the monster shape shifts into his dead/ex lover/friend and begs for mercy as it begins bleeding out. pete bites back tears#and gives a one-liner worthy of arnold. like 'you're appealing to emotions that i simply do not have.' single tear rolls down his cheek#as he fires a second shot at the monster killing it for good this time. it changes back to its normal form that is like some#weird blue tentacle puppet monster. pete wipes sweat off his forehead and shrugs his tunic back on as a kind of cape and#walks off. credits roll as he returns to command center and takes his rightful spot as captain because like only a couple/maybe none#of the other people lived.#pete probably being so hyped to be in a weird sci-fi thing vs his acting skills. fight!
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chaepink · 9 months
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I have a small question! Can we get some time whenever you are up for it, Maybe some more of the Yan!sub boys? c:
pathetic sub!yandere boys ♡ pt. 2
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pathetic yet adorable yandere boys that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask them to do.
wc: 1k+ words | masterlist | part one
dom!reader, previous stalking, unhealthy relationship, pet play, bondage, use of blindfold, mention of strap/cock, mention of choking, mention of marking
note: part two cause part one did so well!
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Yandere subs that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask, sexual or not. Ask them for some homework answers? They'll steal the answer sheet for the week's homework for you from the teacher's desk undetected. You've been craving certain snacks and tell them that? Weird enough, you find a pile of those snacks on your bed the next day with a note that has a heart on it that lets you know exactly who it's from.
But in bed? That's a whole different story. Believe me when I say that they want to feel weak and small underneath you in bed. Choke them, spank them, edge or overstimulate them, and they'll babble out 'thank you's to whatever pleasure you're giving them. Such a good boy that just wants to be obedient for you.
Tell them to sit? They'll sit mere seconds later, looking up at you for your next command. Tell them to make you feel good? They'll make you cum as if their life depends on it. You're gonna have to yank their hair so that they don't overstimulate you, making them whimper at the pain as they look up at you with sad puppy eyes, asking you what they did wrong.
They're so desperate to please you that they'll hack into your phone to search your search/porn history for stuff that you want to do to them but haven't asked yet. It's not like you haven't caught them doing so either.
You like pet play? You find them in your room with nothing but a collar around their neck, a leash that's connected to said collar on the floor in front of you as if its beckoning you to grab it, a pair of cat/bunny/dog ears on their head that looks so real that its as if they're actually connected to his head, and- oh? whats that buzzing? Turns out that they put in a tail vibrator in themself too! what a surprise! How about you call them a good boy and fuck him until he can't think anymore as a reward? Watch as he mewls like a slut when you take out the vibrator before pushing it back in him.
What about bondage? Well you'll find them tied up oh so prettily on your bed with some red rope that compliments their skin so well. They'll already be prepped, of course, not wanting to waste time on it so that you'll fuck them quicker. Maybe they'll even have a blindfold on which will heighten his other senses. So how about you touch him all over so that he begs for you to just fuck him already. Don't listen to him though, just continue teasing him until he's soaked the blindfold with his tears and as his dick leaks out pre-cum, desperately humping the air to seek any friction. what a slut!
Turn them into such a mess that all they can think about is the way your strap/dick is hitting all the right spots in him as they lay there taking it all so well. Make him scream out in pleasure, the sounds filling the room which would surely end with an angry complaint from your neighbors complaining about the noises the following day. But he doesn't 't care, why would they when you're fucking him so well?
They're so horny that they're willing to tease you in public just so you would punish them. With some friends and he tagged along? He'll innocently grab your hand to place it on the bulge in his pants, making you widen your eyes and glare at him before he reaches forward to grab something. This makes his shirt ride up which just barely shows the pair of lace panties he's wearing underneath that are peeking out from his pants. How about you drag him to the bathroom and finger him until he cums, a hand on his mouth to silence his loud moans, hm?
About to leave the house to go somewhere with a friend? He'll say goodbye to you wearing the sluttiest outfit right when you're about to exit the door, his ass practically out and dick bulging against the fabric. You can't resist how good they look so you quickly text your friend that you have to cancel and to meet up another time before shaking off your belongings and rushing towards him with hunger in your eyes. Sure you feel bad for your friend but thats the last thing on your mind, the outfit on your yandere being the only thing that you're thinking about at the moment. The way you're looking at him makes them feel so small as if they're the prey and you're the predator but oh do they love it so much.
You know their antics are just to rile you up but you can't ignore them, not when you want to make them scream your name so bad and make them cry from pleasure. It's not your fault, really.
It's not like they're complaining either. They'll gladly get on all fours and present their lubed up ass to you the moment you tell them to. They'll turn their head back to look at you with eyes that absolutely begs you to ruin them. They're just a mere toy for you to use for your own pleasure after all.
Do whatever to them, they'll take it all like a good boy. Leave marks on him so that he can be reminded of the previous night, filthy thoughts flooding his head as he gets hard again. He'll stare at them in the mirror, heading tilting up to look at the small bruise around his neck from your choking. The red mark on his waist is obvious, reminding him of just how hard you gripped it to fuck him even deeper and faster.
Everything you do just makes them even more obsessed with you but you don't mind. After all, you're just as obsessed with them as they are with you.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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k-hotchoisan · 4 months
Note
mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP
Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘
As always, enjoy 🩷
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snap.
<Choi san x fem!reader>
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Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.
Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies
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“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.
“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.
You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.
Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.
“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”
You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.
You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.
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San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.
Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.
His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.
An appointment via referral.
He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.
[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]
He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.
[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!
Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.
I don’t bite, I promise!]
He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.
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You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.
You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.
“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.
Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.
“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.
The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.
He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.
And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.
His hand is placed over his heart.
San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.
San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.
“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.
San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.
You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.
When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.
“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.
“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.
“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.
Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.
“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.
“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.
That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.
“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.
The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”
By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”
San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.
San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.
He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.
You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.
“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.
San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.
He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.
“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.
“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.
The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.
San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.
“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”
It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.
Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.
What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.
San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.
“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.
Fuck.
San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.
He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.
The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.
San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.
He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.
Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.
Right onto you.
He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.
Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:
One; San is right above you,
Two; his lips are hovering over yours,
Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.
And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.
As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.
“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”
You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.
“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”
Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.
“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.
Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.
San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.
His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.
He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.
And it makes you excited.
San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.
He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.
He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.
“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.
“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.
“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.
San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.
“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”
“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“
Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.
He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.
“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.
“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.
His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.
“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.
Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.
So that’s what he does.
San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.
He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.
“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.
Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.
His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.
“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”
You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.
Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.
“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.
“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.
“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.
It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.
His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.
The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.
San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.
He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.
You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.
San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.
What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.
“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.
“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.
“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.
Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.
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And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.
He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.
Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.
“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.
San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.
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chxrryhansen · 3 months
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘
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Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!
Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)
here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.
Until Fury resigned that was.
Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.
Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.
Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.
Not that you had a choice anyway.
Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.
A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.
Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.
The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.
They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.
From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.
You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.
He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.
He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.
They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.
But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.
"Get on your knees."
"Wh-What?"
"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.
You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.
Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.
There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.
He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."
You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.
Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.
His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.
You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.
His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.
Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.
"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.
He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.
"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."
Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.
You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.
He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.
Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.
"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."
His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.
"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.
Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.
Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.
"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.
He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.
Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”
You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.
Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.
"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.
"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."
"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.
Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."
and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.
"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"
"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.
The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.
"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.
"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”
Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.
The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.
“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”
“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.
"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."
Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.
"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.
His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.
"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.
"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.
“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.
He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.
Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.
Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.
But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.
Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.
People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.
You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.
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ohimsummer · 4 months
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✎ . . .❝ SATORU, BE NICE! ❞
— poly! satosugu verse, satosugu x reader, feeding them, shoko cameo, satoru serial sweets devourer, kind of proofread, I wrote this in twenty minutes EUGH
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You’ve never heard of ‘selective smelling’ before, but you think Gojo might have it. Not thirty seconds after you’ve taken the lid off your peach cobbler, there’s the quick scrub of metal against wood flooring, and you turn around to see him sitting next to you at your kitchen island. His gaze darts back and forth between yours and the dessert in front of you. It’s a silent, obvious question. Or more like a demand, because if you even hint at a refusal then he’ll whine about it for hours.
Sighing, you ask, “Do you want som–“
“Glad you asked!,” he interrupts, smile growing as Gojo leans forward, chin in hand. “Yes, indeed I do.”
Shoko chimes in from your couch. “Tell him to piss off, he’s so greedy.” Geto nods in agreement.
He turns to glare at her. “Shut up, she offered.”
“Yeah, because you were gonna stare her down otherwise.”
Your eye catches Geto’s, and you both share a grin and a head shake. Creamy, vanilla ice cream plops down from your spoon to top off the peachy dessert, and Gojo halts his bickering at the sound of metal scraping hard plastic. He looks to see you shoveling the spoon into your mouth, watches the content look on your face as you savor the flavorful taste. Comparable to a begging puppy he is, wide, pleading eyes and you can practically see a tail wagging behind him as Gojo hungrily eyes the bowl. Ocean blues flicker in your direction, brows raised in a ‘my turn?’ as his hand creeps toward the spoon.
“Ah, ah.,” you scold him. “I’ll do it, you might eat half of it in one bite again.”
You find Geto slipping into the chair behind you as you scoop up another, normal amount of peaches and vanilla on the spoon. Gojo’s eyes light up, bright and vibrant, you think you see a trace of drool on the corner of his mouth. Though his excitement is swiftly replaced with confusion when you pull back, avoiding the swipe of his hand to grab the utensil from you.
“Open up, ahhh!,” you mimic the command to him, holding a hand beneath the spoon to capture any drips. Satoru obeys without complaint, delight shining through his expression as you dip the spoon into his mouth, retrieving it from closed lips to find it now empty. In typical dramatic fashion, he gives a loud moan, beaming the whole time, enjoying the sweet taste of peaches and cinnamon.
“Good boy.” And you pat the white strands atop his head. Gojo’s eyes flit open at your praise, chews hesitating for a second, before flecks of red begin to sprinkle across his cheeks. Geto chuckles at his friend’s embarrassment, before looking at you offering him a taste.
“Want some?”
Gojo, face still a light shade of red, wraps possessive arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder to lean his head against yours. “Don’t offer him any, it’s for me.”
And if Geto didn’t want some before, he definitely wants a try now. “Sure, I’ll have some.”
Call it utter betrayal, or Gojo’s craving for your attention at all times, but either way he doesn’t like the victorious look Geto gives him as he leans forward to take the spoon between his lips, allowing you to feed him in the same fashion.
“Oops!” Gojo looks away as he readjusts, bumping your arm and causing you to smear a dollop of ice cream on the corner of Geto’s mouth.
“Satoru!,” you give him a disapproving look, thumbing away the white cream and licking it off your finger, not noticing the way Geto studies the motion. “Be nice, or you don’t get anymore!”
He only gives a pouty ‘fine!’, and watches in what might as well be agonizing pain as the spoon disappears into Geto’s mouth. He chews it once, twice, a couple times, and then swallows it down.
“Like it?,” you ask.
“Very much.” Geto’s never been too big on sweets. “Can I have another try?”
Gojo leans forward to stare right at you, pulling you into hypnotizing rivers of sky blue. “No, it’s my turn!”
He’s never been one to argue just for the sake of it, but over you, Geto will gladly engage. “You’re gonna end up eating most of it anyway.”
“That’s not the point, and I got here first, wait your turn!”
And while they bicker, you just eat spoonful after spoonful, raising indifferent brows at Shoko and she smirks in return. Maybe it’ll be all gone by the time they decide who goes next, and neither of them will get another taste.
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@staryukis satoru dog comparisons so I thought of u bestie <3
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cod-fishing · 5 months
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“Would you want to be buried with your family, Si?”
Simon looks over at Johnny, eyebrows raised at his lovers random interjection. He gives him a once over, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to find what could have possibly brought that question on. Finding nothing, Simon turns back to his book.
Johnny watches him scan a few lines before replying. “Can’t.”
Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why not?”
“They thought I was dead,” he replies simply, almost absentmindedly as he flips a page. Johnny’s confusion only grows until,
“Washington got your spot,” he says with dawning horror.
Simon says nothing, just humming an assertion. Johnny finds himself in a position he is in far, far too often as Simon’s closest confidant- utterly horrified, while Simon shrugs, already having worked through it with a therapist years ago, and numb to the sheer tragedy.
Simon turns another page, and Johnny breathes through the instinct to start screaming. A man who betrayed him, tortured him, and killed his entire family. Buried in his families plot, where Simon deserves to be someday. Where Simon was supposed to be able to fucking rest, someday.
Eventually, when he’s more in control, Johnny opens his mouth again, and it only comes out a little bit grated.
“So if you die, what would you like?”
Simon snorts at the ‘if’, and finally looks back at Johnny, considering him.
“What do you want?” Simon asks simply.
Johnny just looks at him for a second. Blinks, licks his lips. Opens his mouth to tell the truth, but pussies out at the last second.
He cracks a smile, but Simon can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Ah, I dunno. Just curious.”
Ghost considers the obviously bullshit answer, but decides to allow the out, turning back to his book. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Johnny going through his gear for their mission tomorrow, Simon flipping through his novel.
“What made you ask, anyways?”
Johnny stops in his movements, and looks over to Simon. The room is technically his, as the commanding officer, but it's strewn with evidence of Johnny’s place in his life. Clothes, notebooks, weapons. His shave kit in Simon’s bathroom, cause the lighting is better, and because its pretty nice to have Simon walk up behind him with a soft touch to his back while he cuts his hair, making sure he hasn't missed anything and leaving him with a kiss pressed to his shoulder.
"I'm thinking about retiring," he blurts out.
Simon looks over, and blinks.
"And…and I want my ashes scattered in the highlands. Unless you want to be buried next to me," he says, feeling out of breath at his confession. "That would…that would be good too,” he near-whispers.
Simon puts down his book.
“But if you wanted to be with you family, I could probably rob the grave and get Washington out of there, and put you back in. I’ve done crazier stuff.”
Simon’s mouth curls just a bit. “Come here, Johnny.”
He hesitates, for just a moment, feeling raw and vulnerable. But Simon pats his thigh, and Johnny could never resist that call. Curling up on Simon’s lap, he hides his nose in his neck, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of his best friend, his lover.
Simon embraced him back, pulling him close against his chest. They stay there for a moment, tension slowly draining from Johnny, and eventually Simon whispers.
“I’ve had it in my will that burial rights go to you for a year already. And as for retirement…”
He pulls back, and Johnny does to, looking into his warm eyes, shockingly open in this moment.
“You let me know when, and I’ll follow.”
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cheolism · 6 months
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✧ CAUGHT IN A TRAP
✧ choi seungcheol x f!reader ✧ summary: you ask your brother's best friend to tie the top to your swimsuit. he's convinced that you've lured him into a trap and acts accordingly. ✧ wc is approx 4.5k ✧ tags: brother's best friend-to-lovers?? close proximity ✧ warnings: mdni. mentions of groping and luring!! grinding, oral and fingering, dick-in-vagina sex, overstim. cheol's dirty mouth, pet names (princess, baby, good girl, etc). begging, slightly mean cheol. this is basically all tension and porn. possibly morally questionable cheol? lmk if you think any should be added. ✧ author's note: first fic in a month! i've begun and quit so many fics in the past few weeks and this is the first one i've been able to finish. so i'm satisfied!! this is just desperate porn. this takes place during the summer so it is very out of season lol
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"seungkwan," you call, opening your bedroom door just enough to peek out of it. you don't see your brother in the hall, so you call again; hopefully, he hasn't left for the lake already.
seungcheol appears before you can call for a third time. he's -- well. he's choi seungcheol and he's dressed for the lake, long trunks and a tank top that's somehow both too tight on his torso and just right, revealing his thick biceps and straining over his chest and making your eyes drop to trace the shape of them.
"seungkwan's already down at the dock," seungcheol answers, glancing at his phone. he looks back at you, lifting one of his thick brows at how you're poking only your head out. "everything okay?"
you can feel heat rush to your face. you refuse to look at his face, but then your eyes immediately drop back down to his chest and you can't look there because that would make you a huge creep, so you drop your gaze even further and it goes to his ankles.
"i need help," you mumble, "i can't tie the back of my top."
seungcheol's quiet and you refuse to look at him and repeat yourself. it's horrible. you think about him imagining you, the top of your swimsuit dangling around your shoulders and tits hanging out, and you slide the door shut just a little bit more.
"i'll just text seungkwan and tell him to come back up," you say, voice quiet with embarrassment. you shouldn't have even told seungcheol. he wasn't judging you out loud but seungcheol was -- he was perfect. he was the perfect man, the man you've dreamt about for as long as your brother's known him, and you're so overly aware of how you look to him -- of how he sees you as some silly little sibling to his dear friend, and you've just made yourself seem even more like a little kid.
"no need," seungcheol responds. his voice is deep, and you flick your eyes to watch him slide his phone into the pocket of his trunks. "i can tie it for you."
your eyes widen and your mouth drops a little. "no thanks!" you squeak, shutting the door entirely. "i'll just -- i'll just wear a shirt down!"
seungcheol laughs on the other side. he knocks against the door. "let me in, silly." he knocks again. "it's just tying a swimsuit."
right. it's just tying a swimsuit while you stand there, half-naked.
"no," you whine, "i'll really just --"
"let me tie your top." seungcheol's voice has taken on a more serious tone, the sort that he gets when he's trying to command a room.
you're quiet for half a minute, biting down on your lip and pressing your forehead against the door. it's just tying a swimsuit top, like seungcheol said; he just sees it as helping out his best friend's little sibling. but also, it's choi seungcheol, the man who inspires more crushes than he could ever be aware of, and you don't know if you can handle the mortification that comes with him seeing you like this.
but then, quietly, in the hopes that he'll miss it, you agree.
"let me in," he returns.
"just a second," and then you're moving from the door. you push your open suitcase behind the bed so he won't be able to see how your stripped underwear sits on top, and you kick your dirty clothes underneath the bed.
you reach behind you, grabbing the strings of your top and pulling them taut so your tits don't hang out. then you open the door, just a smidge. "hurry!"
seungcheol chuckles as you slam the door shut behind him. "it's just a swimsuit," he says, eyes twinkling. and he's so handsome, his dark hair hanging around his face and lips twisted in a smirk. it's so ridiculous, and you don't know why seungkwan ever introduced you to seungcheol because surely your brother knew you would end up like this.
(surely your brother knew that when he introduced you to seungcheol and mingyu and wonwoo but mainly seungcheol that in three years' time you would be standing with seungcheol in a bedroom in a lodge, turning so seungcheol could tie the strings to your top.
it was all seungkwan's fault.)
slowly, you turn your back to seungcheol. "quickly," you urge him. "we gotta hurry."
seungcheol scoffs at you. your body is so alert that you can practically feel every step he takes, that you can picture seungcheol crossing the room. when he grabs the strings of your top his fingertips skim along your back, and you can't help but jump.
"we're not going to get in trouble," seungcheol says, pulling the strings from your grasp. "we're both adults."
"can you imagine what seungkwan would say if he saw you leaving my bedroom when the door was closed," you hiss, bringing both of your hands to your front and crossing them over your chest. seungcheol's fingers slide against your shoulder blades and then he's beginning to tie your top, and you can feel every pull as he tightens them. every single movement seems to jostle your heart, seems to alert every single cell in your body to seungcheol's fingers. "forget kwannie -- can you imagine soonyoung? or jihoon? they'd tattle."
"they'd tattle," seungcheol laughs. "we're adults. if you're so worried we should've just left the door open."
"so someone can pass and look in to you tying my top?" you say, shaking your head. "no thanks."
the strings pull once more, and then seungcheol is tapping your shoulders. "finished."
"it's tight?" you say, turning over your shoulder to look at him. "it won't come undone?"
seungcheol tugs the knot he made. "nope. we'll have to cut you out."
you grin, turning to face seungcheol. "thanks."
"wasn't so hard now was it?" seungcheol smirked down at you, lifting one of his thick brows. you hate it when he looks at you like this -- hate it because a single lift of his brow sends a tingling rush through you, one that shoots straight down to your cunt and makes you feel electric. "you were worried over nothing."
it's then, watching as he lowers his eyebrow but that smirk remains, that you realize just how close the two of you are. seungcheol had stepped close to you so he could tie your top and hadn't moved away. that meant that when you turned around there was hardly two feet of space between you.
and fuck, when you became aware of it you became aware.
his wide shoulders, the way his skin -- lightly tanned by the sun, as if even the sun had a crush on seungcheol and couldn't bear to burn his skin red like it had jihoon -- tightened around his biceps when he raised his arms up above his head in a stretch.
as he stretched you couldn't help but let your gaze flick back over his body. you were ogling him like he was some prize but, horribly, you couldn't help it. you couldn't help but take in the sight of his pecs, of how his nipples poked through the fabric of his dark tank top. the slight curve of his tummy, how he hadn't tucked his tank top into his trunks, and how the shirt rose as he stretched, revealing just a sliver of skin.
his neck, wide and thick, and his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and side, angling his face up towards the ceiling as he stretched.
seungcheol was like a flame, passion running through his veins. and like a moth, you couldn't help but reach.
you weren't even thinking. not a single thought was in your mind. it was as if your brain went offline, leaving nothing but your heart and the want that left little tingles in your cunt to command your body.
and you were reaching and placing your hand over his collarbone. his skin was smooth beneath your fingers, and you couldn't help but swipe your thumb over his skin, watching as your thumb moved.
then seungcheol's hand was shooting out and grabbing your wrist and your brain came online.
mortification shot through you. your brain began to go into overdrive as you gawked at seungcheol as if he had been the one to touch you unsolicited, as if he had been the one to press his hand to your skin and feel.
"i --" you began, a thousand thoughts shooting through your brain and yet not a single one leaving your lips. you can't speak. you can't because you just -- just groped choi seungcheol. "wait -- i --"
seungcheol cocks his head at you, brows lifting and you can feel -- despite the situation at hand -- more tingling in your pussy. "oh. i get it now."
"i-- get -- what?"
seungcheol grins at you, cherry blossom pink lips quirking. he moves closer to you, though there hasn't been that much space between the two of you to begin with and wasn't that where this entire problem started, so why was he getting closer?
"you were luring me in here," seungcheol announces, walking closer and closer and you begin backing up, straight into the wall opposite to the door. "i was just a passing fly you caught in your trap. is that right?"
your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to go. you're gawking up at seungcheol, feeling as if you were the fly in his trap. "what -- what are you talking about --"
"you wanted me to come in," seungcheol says, still grinning down at you. "you were pretending you needed your top tied. you were pretending so you could get me in your room, door shut. you were pretending so you could grope me."
your mouth fell open with an audible click. "i -- i didn't! seungcheol, i promise i didn't!"
seungcheol laughs at you meanly. he moves your hand, the one that, horribly, reached out and groped him, and presses it above your head and against the wall. he crowds closer, his other hand sliding along your jaw to cup your cheek. "you planned this."
"i didn't," you say, voice going quiet due to the lack of space between the two of you. "i was searching for seungkwan."
"you were," he mocks, and he's so mean. choi seungcheol is so mean. "you've got me in your little trap, baby. what are you gonna do with me?"
you wonder what the fuck he means. seungcheol's the one who's got you against the wall, he's the one with your wrist in his grasp.
seungcheol's eyes flick down. he's taking you in, you realize; he's admiring you.
"i've trapped you," you echo weakly.
seungcheol's eyes return to your face. "you have," he responds. "now what will you do with me?"
you lick your lips. your bottoms are soaked, you realize. you can feel their dampness, can feel the heat trapped between your thighs.
"i -- i've trapped you," you say, slowly, testing out each word. "i better -- i better use you, then."
"use me?" he says, cocking his head. seungcheol's eyes are sparkling, and you realize that he loves this. "how would you use me, baby? what would you do to me?"
your brain goes blank again. "uh. i'd -- i'd kiss you?"
"kiss me," he's grinning now as if you're amusing him. his thumb slides along your cheekbone. "is that it? you've got me in your hands for you to fuck around with and all you'd do is kiss me?"
"wanted to," you say. "i've wanted to kiss you for a while."
seungcheol's smile softens, and he's moving his hand from your cheek to press it next to your head on the wall. he's caging you in, and you're trapped between his arms, but you don't feel it. you don't feel like a trapped moth frantically looking for an escape.
shyly, you carry on. "i guess i'd -- if i had you, if i was going to use you -- i'd make you uh --"
"make me what?" he says, and he's enjoying it so much.
"you know."
"i don't," he says, brows raised. "you gotta tell me, baby. what do you want to do with me?"
you can't look at him. so you slide your gaze from his face and rest it on his collarbone. "i'd -- i'd sit on you."
"sit on me? that it?" seungcheol brings his face close, and his nose is against yours. "just sit on my lap? wouldn't do anything else? don't want to do anything else with me?"
you can't say it, so you shake your head.
seungcheol clicks his tongue. he trails his nose over your face, breath hot against your face. "okay. let me tell you what i'd do. if i had you in my trap i'd kiss you. kiss your cute little mouth, kiss your chin. kiss your throat, kiss your pretty tits. i'd kiss your tummy and i'd kiss your sweet little cunt -- i bet it's so pretty, princess. bet you have such a pretty little pussy."
you gasp, and his mouth is over your lips. he's not kissing you, but his lips are pressed to yours. you can feel them move as he speaks. "i'd have you take my cock," he carries on, each word sending heat and electricity to your pussy. "if i had you trapped i'd fuck you so good, baby."
you agree. you think of it, of seungcheol pressing his dick -- you just know he's big, know he's big and he'd feel so good around your cunt. you think of it and shift, feeling the wetness of your swimming bottoms.
"so?" he asks.
"so?"
seungcheol laughs at you. "would you let me trap you, baby? would you wander into my little trap and let me fuck you?"
"yes," you say, and it's the easiest thing you've ever said.
seungcheol kisses you. he immediately devours you, immediately traps you. seungcheol moves his mouth with intent, covering yours over and over and over, kissing you as if he had been wanting it, yearning for it.
you can't help but get lost in it--in him. his hands move from your wrists and to you, one of his hands sinking into your hair to guide you, his other going to wrap around your body and hold you close to him. he wants you, you think; wants you, wants you so desperately that he wants to mold your bodies into one.
your arms get trapped between your bodies, but you take the chance to press your hands against his chest and feel his body as he moves against you. it's not like you have the wits to do much else. with seungcheol's mouth devouring you, owning you, you can't do anything else than try and catch your breath between every eager press of your lips, can't do anything else than just stand there and let him take you.
seungcheol moves his tongue into your mouth, and that's when you break away. you gasp against him, trying to catch your breath, trying to focus. seungcheol moves on. he travels from your mouth, skimming his lips along your chin and jaw before going to your neck.
his hands move as his mouth does, and he's settling them on your hips and guiding them flush against his. you can feel his dick, can feel him as he mouths at your neck, never staying in one place, as if he would go crazy if he didn't press his mouth against every inch of you.
"seung--" you pant, your hands digging into the fabric of his tank top. he groans, a strangled noise against your skin. you try to speak again, but then he's skimming his teeth along your skin and you can't help but let out a high, keening whine.
he grins against your skin. "that's it, princess," he murmurs, "gotta me loud for me. gotta show me you really want it."
you groan, obedient, when he begins sucking at your neck. seungcheol works his mouth over you, sucking bruises into your skin.
"tell me," he commands, pressing his nose against your jaw, "tell me you want it."
"want it," you return, letting your head rest back against the wall. seungcheol moves his mouth back to your neck, and then he's running his lips along one of the strings of your swimming top, mouthing at it as if he was reminding you of how scantily clad you were. "want it, cheol, want you."
he hums. "tell me," he carries on, as if your words had no effect. "tell me you trapped me. tell me this was all part of your plan, baby."
you want to whine and protest, but then he's ducking his head and nipping at the exposed skin of your tits and you immediately give in. "it was," you whine, "i -- i trapped you, cheol. wanted you, want you so badly, cheol."
when seungcheol lifts his head, he's smirking. he presses you flat against the wall, mouth returning to the curve of your neck. seungcheol licks against your skin, drawing a noise from your mouth, just as he thrusts his leg between your thighs.
"too bad i caught onto your little plan, princess," he taunts. "i should turn around and walk out, shouldn't i? just leave you here in your room, all wet and desperate."
you whine, moving your hands against him. you run them over his pecs, over his shoulders. 
"don't," you beg, unable to keep your voice from going high in desperation. "please, seungcheol, please --"
"please what?"
"fuck me," you beg, wanton yearning seeking its talons into you. you wanted, wanted so desperately. he was all around you, surrounding you; you could feel the taste of him on your tongue, the feel of his skin beneath your hands. but it wasn't enough. you wanted him inside of you, wanted to feel him within. "please, please fuck me --"
"prove it to me, baby," he says. "prove it that you want me. show me. show me, precious."
he presses his knee up against you, shoving it underneath your cunt. "ride me," he commands, "ride my thigh, princess."
you immediately bare down on his thigh. you angle your hips so your clit is rubbing over his thigh through your bottoms, and the relief feels so good that you can't help but let your head fall back against the wall. seungcheol immediately takes advantage, pressing his face against your chest and mouthing at your tits, hands gripping your hips and guiding.
your nails sink into his skin. you fuck down onto his thigh, chasing that feeling that tugs at your cunt. it's as if you're mindless, as if you had been born just to fuck yourself against choi seungcheol's thigh.
and you ride him like that. ride him as if it was your one mission in life. your mouth falls open and he quickly covers it, licking into your mouth. "that's it, princess. gotta cum on me, gotta prove you want me."
"want you," you beg, "please, cheol. help me, want you so badly, cheol, please please --"
he curses. seungcheol pulls away from you completely, drawing a loud noise of disapproval from your mouth.
but then seungcheol's hands grip your hips, and then he's pulling you from the wall and spinning so he could push you back onto the bed. as soon as you fall he's on you, his mouth -- already red from the force of his passionate kisses -- covering your skin, frantically moving from the curve of your tits to your stomach to your bottoms.
seungcheol's hands go to your thighs and he's parting your legs. you don't even have a chance to get shy before he's mouthing at you through your swim bottoms, licking a broad stripe from your cunt to your clit.
your responding moan is loud, and you don't even have the presence of mind to try and cover it. seungcheol licks over your bottoms, pushing his tongue against them as if they weren't there at all. you're completely wet, you're soaked, it's as if you had gone down to the lake after all, but it's just from your cunt and you wonder if he's going to drown in it.
but you ride his face nonetheless; you move your hips as he works his mouth, chasing him, chasing that tongue of his. you can't help it. there's something desperate, something animalistic inside of you and it's taken over, and you can't help but wrap your thighs around his head and beg.
seungcheol slips his fingers into the bottoms, moving them aside. he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips before he's latching onto your clit, sucking and sucking, and it's like something releases inside of you and you're cumming, thighs tight around his head and fingers twisting in the seats.
instead of giving you a moment to gather yourself seungcheol continues. he laps at your clit, laving his tongue over it, while he maneuvers his fingers against your hole. "be good for me," he says, breath hot against your cunt. "be good and prove to me that you want my dick, baby."
you nod, breathless, and he slides one of his fingers inside of your cunt. immediately you're clenching down on him, and he responds with a curse. seungcheol doesn't stop; he continues to lick at your cunt while feeds his fingers into your cunt, one at a time, spreading them out and preparing you for his cock.
you're electric. forget the moth and the flame. it's as if seungcheol's ignited something in you and you're buzzing with it. you just want more and more and more, and you don't even realize you're begging for it.
eventually, seungcheol pulls from your cunt. his face is soaked. he's smirking, though, and his eyes gleam as he pulls his tank top up and off. seungcheol lets you gawk at him, lets you look. and you really can't help but look.
you take in his pecs, his broad shoulders. his brown nipples and how they pebble in the cool air of your bedroom, his stomach. you can't help but be in awe of him, of the softness of his body and how it covers his strong muscles, and your cunt tightens around nothing.
seungcheol laughs at you, and then he's pulling your bottoms. you raise your hips off of the bed and let seungcheol pull them off and drop them onto the floor. he slips his fingers into the waistband of his trunks before they, too, drop to the floor.
he's beautiful, you think. he's completely bare before you, his dick large and straining, and he's absolutely beautiful.
seungcheol moves back onto the bed, slipping his hands underneath your thighs and moving them up. he presses them to your chest, and when he's close enough you can't help but thread your fingers through his hair and bring his face to yours. you kiss him, sliding your mouths together.
he grins against your mouth. seungcheol moves one of his hands, running it along your thigh before pressing his palm to your cunt. "you've trapped me, baby," he whispers, and then you feel his cock press against your pussy.
"please," you beg, fingers tightening around his blonde locks. "please cheol."
seungcheol guides his cockhead so it's against your entrance. but then he stops. he pauses, eyes flicking over your face. you can't help but feel frustrated; all of this playing and here he is, about to fuck you and stopping.
"seungcheol," you whine, wiggling against him in hopes he'll take mercy on you. "please, seungcheol. want you so badly, please, please!"
he hums. he's got a flush on his face, but he's trying to appear unaffected. "i don't know, baby. don't know if you really want it."
you let out a sob. in the future maybe you'll look back on this movement with shame. in the present, however, you feel tears spring to your eyes and you tighten your grip on his hair, bringing his head down so you can press desperate kisses to his face.
"please," you sob, pressing a kiss against his mouth. "please, cheolie. i -- i want you so bad, want you to fuck me, please, please --"
when he finally slides in he does it all at once. seungcheol fucks his cock into you in one swift movement, sheathing himself to the hilt inside of your cunt. you can't help but cry out, back arching and fingers digging into his shoulders.
it hurts, faintly. it's not an acute pain, but instead a dull ache of your cunt stretching around his cock. it goes away rather quickly, and then you're bucking your hips up against him.
"good girl," he whispers, and then he's withdrawing. he draws back until just the tip of his cock is at your entrance, and you can't help but be on edge -- every single neuron and electron in your body is on fucking edge, waiting, anticipating --
and then he fucks back into you, his balls slapping against your cunt. you let out a loud moan, uncaring of the noise. he does it again, drawing his hips out quickly and sheathing himself in a hurried movement. seungcheol fucks you deeply, quickly, and harshly.
he fucks you like a man depraved, like a man desperate. as if he had admired you all this time just as you had him.
every thrust drives you up the bed, every thrust making his balls slap against your pussy, each thrust accompanied by the loud slaps of skin and skin and the wet squelches from your cunt. you'll be sore in a matter of hours but you don't care. you don't care, not when he's fucking you so deeply and fitting so perfectly inside.
"good girl," he chants, slipping his hands behind your knees and keeping your thighs against your chest. he uses his grip on your body to angle himself, and the next time he thrusts into your cunt he's hitting that gummy core inside of you that makes your lips curl and your eyes squeeze shut.
"pretty girl," he carries on, thrusts punishing. "pretty girl with her pretty cunt, so fucking wet 'n warm, so fucking good for me, made just for me --"
"for you," you echo, a loud, ugly sob coming out. "you, cheol -- yours, you -- for you, for you --"
seungcheol curses, and then he's cumming inside of you. his cum is hot and there's so much, and he fucks into your cunt, fucks his cum into your pussy until his dick is soft and he's wincing.
seungcheol moves. his dick slips out of you but before you can miss it, before you can miss him, he's returning to your pussy. seungcheol slaps his hand against your cunt once, and then he's thrusting his fingers against your clit harshly, rhythmically.
"such a good girl," he growls, thick brows furrowed. "good fucking good, taking me so good -- good girl, pretty girl. all mine, all fucking mine."
he slaps your cunt again and you cum, and it's like a thunderous wave has plunged over you. you can't hear or see, and you don't know if you're even breathing. but you're cumming and cumming and cumming, and his hand is working furiously at your clit and you don't know if you'll ever stop cumming.
seungcheol is still moving his fingers against your clit when you come to. he's moving them slowly, softly, guiding you back down from that high. his large eyes are taking you in as if he's trying to memorize how you look before him.
you meet his eyes; you smile.
and then he grins so brightly that you just know.
he's got you in his trap.
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m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months
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Eat Your Young
Astarion and Tav take advantage of the rainy weather in camp. Pure smut, no plot.
Pairings: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: smut, p in v sex, swearing. 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: Listen, usually I like a lil plot but Astarion sometimes deserves just some good ole smut, right?! Also inspired by the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young"
REMINDER: my inbox is open for requests!
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Astarion's hand roughly ran down your neck, the candles in his tent casting shadows over the space. He hissed in pleasure as his fingers gracefully found your collarbone, his nails tickling the skin around your neck. You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed.
"This is not what I came in here for." You said, even though you knew that was a lie.
Well, partly.
Basically since the beginning of your adventure with the companions, you and Astarion had found yourselves drawn to each other. First as friends, but then quickly into a sexual situation. A way to satiate yourselves, and to have a bit of shining light in the darkness that was all the doom and gloom and battle and blood.
"Oh?" Astarion asked, his mouth dangerously close to your neck, "And what did you actually come in here for?" His voice was melodic, almost a purr. You felt his fangs lightly drag across your neck - enough to leave a scratch, but not enough to break skin. You gasped.
"F-for the book," You were able to choke out, one of your hands finding his hair. You ran your fingers through his locks, earning a quick moan from Astarion, "The book I lent you last week. I know you're done reading it, so-"
"You came all the way across camp in a rain storm for a book you could easily get from me tomorrow?" He pulled away, his eyes twinkling. It was bullshit, and he knew it. "Is that why both of our clothes are off, and were discarded on the floor within 45 seconds of you coming into my tent, my pet?"
"Um..." You bit your lip and both of you smiled, "I'm easily distracted." You tried to argue, but Astarion's lips were on you again, his tongue quickly finding yours. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his body on yours, his erection pressing into your stomach. Thunder clapped outside, causing you to jump, which caused Astarion to wrap his arm around your back tighter, bringing you closer.
"What do you want, my darling? Tell me," He pulled away from your mouth, but his lips were still touching yours. Your heart pounded in your chest from his breath on your face, "Tell me what you want." His voice was velvet smooth, causing your stomach to clench. You groaned, unable to stop yourself - how did this fucking man know exactly what to say, and exactly what to do to get you going?
"I want your cock in my mouth," You said quickly, it coming out as one breath. His eyebrows raised and he smirked, wordlessly pushing himself to the edge of the bed to give you space. Looking down at his erection, you felt a wave of heat rush to your clit, unable to contain yourself.
Before he could even lay down, your mouth was on his cock hungrily. He moaned in surprise, his voice echoing off the tent walls. Immediately your mouth filled with spit as you worked on his thick member, using your tongue the exact way you knew he loved. His hands found their way into your hair and pulled, causing you to grip the blankets underneath your hands.
"Hells, you're so fucking good," Astarion grumbled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, "Deeper." He commanded.
You made your way fully down on his member, causing his hips to buck in your mouth. You felt your eyes water a bit, and pulled up, taking your mouth completely off of his cock. "Does that feel good?" You toyed, pumping him in your hand. He moved his head back to look at you, his eyes a deep red. You watched the end of his mouth turn up in the shadow of a smile.
Suddenly, the rain started to beat harder against the tent walls.
In one swift movement, Astarion's hand grabbed your chin, pull you on top of him. His member, slick with your spit and precum, slid against your body, causing you to gasp. He looked between your eyes before hungrily crashing his lips against yours again, this time pulling your hair roughly.
"Not as good as it'll feel when I'm inside of you." He said in your ear, before biting your lobe. You moaned loudly, the noise getting lost in the rain.
"Then fuck me."
"Say please."
"Please, Astarion! I need you."
"You need me to what?"
"To fuck me. I need your dick inside of me." You reached down to his cock and started to pump him again, causing Astarion to erupt a small moan from his lips. He looked into your eyes one final time before he flipped you below him.
"On your stomach." He said, waiting patiently. He was sitting high up on his knees, looking down on you. Now, his cock was in his own hand and he stroked it slowly, taking the full length of his member in his palm. He didn't break eye contact as you got on your belly. Soon, you felt him spread your legs gently, and his body weight pressed on top of you.
"I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll be screaming to the gods by the end of it." He murmured in your ear. You shuddered at his voice, and soon you felt him lining himself up at your entrance.
"Oh, Astarion..." You breathe, your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. You heard him chuckle before he continued on.
"Are you ready?" He asked. You felt like you couldn't speak, your stomach was so clenched in anticipation. You nodded, and almost instantly his cock was deep inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. You called out, lifting your head. As you lifted your head, Astarion took hold of your hair and pulled.
"Gods, you are so fucking tight." He groaned, every word accentuated by a thrust inside of you. You clapped you hand over your mouth so you wouldn't cry out, but he pulled it away, "Don't. I want everyone to hear."
"Fuck, Astarion!" You called out, his hands finding your hips for better leverage. You felt a heat start to rise within you, causing you to breath harder. "Don't stop! Right there-"
"Right there?" He purred, his voice teasing, "Right there and I'm going to make my good girl come?"
"Yes!" You moaned, his voice ripping through you, "Yes right there and I'm going to come. Don't stop!"
The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the tent as your mind became foggy. The pleasure started to soften the sides of your vision as Astarion gripped your hips, definitely leaving marks for tomorrow. As your words turned into incoherent noises, you felt Astarion thrust into you harder, making sure you felt filled.
"Show me you're a good girl," He murmured, his voice steady; in control. As Astarion often was - in control. It drove you crazy, usually the catalyst in tipping you over the edge. "Be my good girl and come for me."
Finally, you felt yourself spill over him as you cried out his name - the heat rose completely in you and for a moment, Astarion stopped thrusting in you, taking his hands and wrapping them around your waist, so that he could feel your orgasm completely. With your head so close to his, he whispered words of praise in your ear - "Good girl. That's it - come for me. Let me feel it. Give me all of it."
You panted, your thoughts finally starting to align again. As you regained control of your body, Astarion gently flipped you over. Spreading your legs open, he entered you again slowly, earning a whimper from you. Two thrusts in and he caused you to throw your head back, crying his name.
"That's it - that's my girl," He hissed, speeding his thrusts up slowly, "Let me see that pretty face, darling. Your pretty face is going to make me come."
"Astarion, FUCK. You feel so good!" You couldn't help yourself as he started again, one of his hands finding it's way to your erect nipples. He pinched and palmed your tits as they bounced with every thrust - the sight of your body bouncing, and your face calling his name, he wasn't far behind you with an orgasm. But, he wanted it to last...
He wanted to wear you out.
It was always so sexy seeing you struggle in the following days, knowing that he alone was the cause.
"Your cock...feels so good..." You panted, your hands finding their way to his shoulder blades. Thunder clapped again, drowning out the scream you cried as Astarion hit your spot. Once he realized how crazy he was driving you, he smiled.
"All for you," He grunted, "This cock is all for you." Sweat beaded at his temples as he stared into your eyes. They were dark, hungry - he started to get the glint in his eyes that he would before he was sent over the edge.
Astarion pounded into so hard that the bed groaned under the pressure. You could feel Astarion's body start to tense above you, so you gripped Astarion's ass, pushing him deeper into you.
The extra effort made you start to see stars, and Astarion was on the same page; "I'm close," He grunted, touching his forehead to yours, "Hells, you're going to make me come."
"Come for me," You breathed, placing a sloppy, rough kiss on his lips, "Come for me."
Suddenly, Astarion called out your name, and you felt him spill into you. The tension in his body reached his climax and gradually released, his body laying completely on top of you.
The only noise in the tent - besides the pounding rain - was your and Astarion's breathing. The shallow, quick breaths turned into deeper, heftier breaths and you regained your composure, the heating slowly leaving your body.
"Gods, you're beautiful." Astarion murmured, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ear gently. He delicately placed a kiss on your lips as he slid down to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight. You sighed contently, running a hand over his side and snuggling your head closer into his shoulder. A moment of silence passed before you spoke.
"I did actually come here for that book, you know." You teased, causing him to chuckle.
"Oh? Would you like me to go get it for you then?" He asked, pretending to get out of bed. You giggled and gently pushed him back down.
"Shut up," You playfully scolded him, "I just wanted to let you know that I didn't just come here to seduce you."
"But darling, it's so much fun getting seduced by you." He looked at you and smirked, his eyes sparkling. You rolled your eyes and placed a kiss on his mouth.
"Well...I guess I'll have to let you borrow my books more often, then."
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My first time doing smut with no plot - I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how I feel about it yet! What did you all think?
Just a reminder: my inbox is open for requestions!
1K notes · View notes
dolldefiler · 22 days
Text
[I'll be out petting a friend's drooling bitch today (literal), I hope you're all jealous.]
I’d love to train a girl into becoming my free-use whore.
When training a dog, there are five things to consider. The first is that you must use short, consistent commands. I’d sidle up to her and reach for her body, groping her, readying her for my cock. I’d lift her skirt up amidst her protests and slam my cock into her. “Stay,” I would say, pinning her against the wall. “Shut the fuck up,” I would order, while my fingers plunge down her mouth. Short and simple. Easy, right?
The second thing to consider is patience. Girls are silly creatures with short attention spans. I’d take her phone away while my hips slam in and out of her sopping, wet cunt. She’d glare at me in annoyance while my dick stirs up her slutty insides. Ultimately, I’d pound into her, drawing her attention away from her anger and to my violent, bitch-taming cock. She’d begin to pant like the nasty, untamed whore she is deep down. It’d be best to finish up with her before she becomes distracted. Silly whore.
The third thing is positive reinforcement. I’d reward her patience, her willingness to let me use her fleshlight of a pussy with sweet orgasms and treats. I’d shove her favourite chocolate into her mouth while I pour my thick, creamy jizz into her slit. Every time I fucking cum in her, she’d be reminded of her favourite chocolate. I’d praise her for being such a submissive set of holes. That’s what good little bitches deserve, right?
The fourth is to escalate sessions. Naturally, I wouldn’t start by fucking her immediately. I’d lower her boundaries over time. A quick grope here, an ass slap there. A finger down her throat would turn into shoving my cock down her throat, all while she’s on the phone to her friend. You can get anyone to hold anything when they’re on the phone. It’d be the perfect time to have her jack off my cock. Only then would I even consider ramming my cock into her tight, wet fuckholes. You don’t want to scare her away immediately.
Finally, it’s unfortunate to say but undesirable behaviour must be weeded out. Is she refusing to suck my cock? I’d bend her over and start spanking her ass. Physical, hard punishment to show her whose bitch she is. She’d squirm under me and begin to apologise but until she promises to gag and choke on my cock like a mutt in heat, I’m not letting go. I’d turn her ass fucking red and bruised if I needed to. Anything to inflict the pain into her body. The pain of disobeying me.
By the end of it, I’d get myself a tamed, trained three-holed bitch that eagerly drool for my cock. She’ll look especially pretty nuzzling my cock, I think.
856 notes · View notes
jaeyunverse · 1 year
Text
the perks of having a hot best friend
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pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader
genres: fluff, crack, mild angst, best friends to lovers, college au
wc: 14336
warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, jeno is shirtless in a scene phew, too many idol features SORRY i lowk lost track of who i’ve included. i think that is all but lmk if you find something else!
summary: having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.
note: JAEYUNVERSE COMEBACK WOOO i’ve missed writing long fics so much omfg but i’m shitting bricks as we speak LOL it’s been a while since i’ve posted something big and i won’t lie i’m hella nervous. i rlly hope you guys enjoy this fic ♡ please don’t hesitate to give me your feedback! here’s to hoping my writing skills haven’t become as rusty as i think i have hehe :’))
masterlist
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 !
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01. an abundance of freebies and discounts
Lee Jeno knew the power his smile held. 
All it took was one flirty laugh combined with those sleepy eyes of his for people to melt. Being the resourceful person you were, you utilised that talent of his to its full extent. 
“Can you go and flirt with the cashier so she gives us a free muffin?” 
Your best friend gave you a dirty look. “You do realise this is supposed to be your treat, right?” 
“I am paying!” you exclaimed. “Just go do your thing and make her feel generous enough to slip a free dessert in our order.” 
Jeno rolled his eyes, but you knew you’d won. You almost always did. “Fine, whatever. You owe me one though.” 
“I’m feeding you because I owe you one,” you pointed out. “This makes us equal.”
“How riveting. I have to work so the person who owes me doesn’t have to owe me anymore.” 
“We can argue about this for hours or you can haul ass to the counter and place the damn order. I’ll Venmo you the money the moment you’re back,” you promised. 
Sliding out of the booth, Jeno said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. If this were Jaemin, I wouldn’t be letting him off the hook easily.”
You stuck your tongue out at him and shooed him away. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. 
“Hey!” you cried. “Don’t take me with you! The flirting won’t have any effect on her if she thinks we’re together!” 
“Everyone thinks we’re together,” Jeno muttered and got in line behind an old man. “She checked me out when we entered the cafe, saw you arm-in-arm with me and gave you the dirtiest look to ever exist.” 
You snorted. “Liar. You might be an eye candy but you do not command such a high level of attention.”   
“I’m telling the truth!” he argued. “I would know because I was checking out the drink she placed on the counter. I was trying to figure out what the person’s order might have been to get something so incredibly delicious-looking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye.” 
“Oh.” You frowned and took a step forward when the line moved ahead. “That’s unfortunate. Should we go to another cafe and try our hand at getting something free there?” 
“How about you stop being such a cheap skate for once?”
Slapping his shoulder hard, you grumbled, “I have to bear the weight of my goddamn rent alone while you share yours with three others! I need to cut down on certain things, asshole.” 
“My offer to move in with you next semester still stands.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a really good housemate; ask the others.” 
“You live with boys. The disgusting things you do don’t bother them because they do them too.” 
He closed his mouth and thought about it for a second. Then, “Touché.” 
You rolled your eyes, but before you could make another snarky comment, a pleasant voice interrupted, “Good morning. What can I get for you today?” 
Jeno averted his gaze to the girl standing behind the counter and let a lazy smile take form on his lips. You raised a brow and watched in amusement. 
“Hey there. Can I get a Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino with 1 pump caramel syrup, 1 pump hazelnut syrup, and 1 pump toffee-nut syrup? Java chips too, please.” 
The girl—Lia, according to her name tag—looked surprised to see him blatantly flirting with you right beside him. Maybe he was right about every stranger assuming the two of you to be together, though you couldn’t fathom why. “O—okay.”
“What do you want, friend?” Jeno stressed the last word. Refraining to roll your eyes a second time, you said, 
“Iced coffee without milk. Could you add some sugar to the brew? I prefer my drinks to be sweet.” 
“Of course,” she said and nodded once, unfazed even after learning of Jeno’s status as an eligible bachelor. 
Snorting under your breath, you whispered to him, “Lia doesn’t give a fuck. You’re lacking.” 
He scoffed and nudged you away. “No, I’m not,” he whisper-snapped. “Get out of here. You’re killing my vibe.” 
You deadpanned and gave him a don’t-bullshit-me look but retreated to your booth nonetheless. The last thing you heard Lia ask was: “Anything else?” 
You’d only been sitting and scrolling through your phone for a few minutes before a hand slapped a receipt on the table in front of you. 
Glancing up, you inquired, “What?” 
“Read the order.” 
Dropping your gaze to the piece of paper again, you picked it up. An appreciative frown tugged at your lips as Jeno slid into his seat. “You managed to get us a free muffin and a free bagel?”
“Don’t ever question my talents again,” he ordered and leaned back. Resting his arm on the cushion behind him and placing his ankle on his knee, his attitude was nothing short of a king’s. “I won’t tolerate any further slander.” 
“Uh-huh,” you muttered, utterly unimpressed. Though you admit, a smile threatened to break out on your face and you had to bite your lip to keep it from escaping. 
Jeno raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for something. All you did was stare at him, and when he realised you wouldn’t budge, he did an extremely horrible and high-pitched imitation of you that should have deserved jail. “Thank you sooooooo much, Jeno! If it weren’t for your flirting skills, I wouldn’t have anything to eat. You’re my one and only saviour, and I don’t know what I would have done without—”
“Order for Jeno!” Lia hollered. 
Said-boy flinched and clutched his heart with his hand. “What the… That was quick.” Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to you, the tips of his ears red and his face flushed. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. Venmo me the bill amount.” 
You snickered and watched him get up. However, before he could move out of earshot, you called his name. “Thank you for your service.” 
Jeno glanced at you over his shoulder and did nothing but observe you for a moment. Then, a lopsided grin took form on his lips and he mock saluted. 
“You’re welcome.” 
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02. gives good boy advice
“What are you doing here?” 
Pushing past you, Jeno strolled into your living room and plopped down on your sofa. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?” 
You rolled your eyes and closed the front door. Sitting down beside him, you placed your laptop on your lap again and resumed going through your notes. “I’m being serious. Were we supposed to hang out today? Because I cannot. I still have three finals left.” 
“No, we didn’t have any plans today,” he said, peering over your shoulder to check what subject you were studying. It was Economics. Horrible memories from the previous semester resurfaced and he shuddered before continuing, “Your text said you wanted to talk about something important?” 
You paused and glanced at him. “So you came over?” 
“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno frowned. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. Eyes widening, you grabbed his wrist and forced him back to his original position. “That’s not what I meant! I do want to talk to you but—it’s weird. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever has happened right now and I’m getting second thoughts about asking you for advice.” 
Concern seeped into Jeno’s face. “Woah, are you okay? You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just tell me one thing: do I need to beat anyone up? I’ve got a few gym buddies who are ripped.”
You huffed a laugh and placed your laptop on the coffee table. Crossing your legs, you turned to face him. Upon watching you get comfortable, your best friend rolled his shoulders back and did the same thing. 
“Before I say anything, I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me. Or call me an idiot.” 
“I won’t,” he answered immediately, though he wondered what issue warranted you to require his word. 
Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “YangYang asked me out a few days ago. I’ve always liked him, but not in a way that’s not platonic. I fucked up and instead of rejecting him right there, I asked him for some time to think it over and kinda led him to believe that I would say yes.”
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “How?” 
“I told him he’s my type,” you mumbled, cringing at the memories that came rushing back. 
“What?!” he exclaimed. “How the hell did you manage to do that?” 
“I don’t know!” you whined and buried your face in your hands. “He came up to me when I was in the library and asked if we could talk! I didn’t know he was going to drop such a bomb on me so I said yes. Then he started talking about how he’s always cherished our friendship and how he’s so glad to have me.
“I started suspecting where his train of thought was headed when he added a but to his sentence. He said he’s liked me for a while now and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. I was flabbergasted once he was done! I’ve always viewed him as a good friend and I didn’t want to just turn his heart down!”
“So you told him he was your type?” Jeno asked incredulously. “I know I promised to not call you an idiot but you’re really fucking stupid, Y/N! It’s going to be hella awkward when the group meets up!” 
You groaned and closed your eyes shut, letting yourself fall on your back. “That’s not even the worst part.” 
Jeno grabbed your wrists and hauled you back up. His face was barely a few inches away from yours when he ordered, “Explain.”
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I told YangYang that he was cute and my type but I wasn’t in a position to think about going out with anyone with still two weeks of finals left to get through. I thought he would drop it but he asked me if I would think about his confession after our exams and I felt terrible telling him the truth. So I said I would. Yeji called me last night and said she set me up on a blind date with this guy in her class. You know how fast word spreads here. YangYang is going to know I dangled him on strings only to go on a date with someone else!” 
“You’re going on a blind date? With whom?” 
You flicked Jeno’s forehead. “That’s not the issue!” 
“Well, I want to know!” he sputtered and slapped your hand away. 
“I don’t know! Frankly, I don’t care either. I made a bet with Yeji and I lost. Now I have to spend an evening with a random guy I don’t even want to seek a romantic relationship with.” 
Your best friend sighed in frustration. “This might be one of your biggest fuck-ups till now.”
“I know,” you said quietly and dropped your gaze to your lap in shame. 
“You’ll have to apologise to YangYang and tell him the truth. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve any of this.” 
“I know.” 
“Hey,” Jeno said softly. You glanced at him to see he’d gotten up and was holding his out for you. “Come here.” 
You rose to your feet and let him envelop you in his comforting embrace. Burying your face in his chest, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt YangYang. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.” 
“You won’t as long as you come clean and explain everything. Don’t insult him further by giving him more half-truths. Guys would rather know what’s the real deal than be lied to and find out from someone else. Not only is it hurtful, but it’s a huge blow to the ego.”  
Your lips curled in a small smile and you leaned back a little to look at his face. “Is this about your mom lying to you about the tooth fairy?” 
“Damn right it is,” he grumbled. “I gave an entire speech about her being my favourite person in the whole world. That’s not something you recover from easily.”
“It’s been 15 years.”
“It’ll take me another 15 to come to terms with the fact that I used to rip my loose teeth out and place them under my pillow when I needed money urgently.” 
You laughed and pulled yourself out of his arms. “I can’t believe I’m taking guy advice from you.” 
“Why?” Jeno exclaimed. “I’m a guy too! Plus, I always give good advice!” 
You giggled and plopped down on the sofa again. “I know. But you’re also Jeno. I’ve never thought of you as just a guy.” 
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” 
“How about you sit your ass down and help me study now that you’re here? I made flash cards.” 
Snatching the stack from your hand, Jeno teased, “Oh, how would you survive without me?”
“I don’t have to wonder about that shit.” You grinned. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” 
He laughed. “And thank fuck for that.” 
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03. hugs always make you feel safe thanks to all the beef underneath
You were going to drag Jeno to the seventh circle of Hell. 
You couldn’t afford to go grocery shopping with him when you had a huge exam the next day. You hadn’t studied shit and were one ���have you prepared for tomorrow’s final?” away from a mental breakdown. 
It didn’t help that Yeji had called you in the middle of the night to clear a doubt she had from a chapter you didn’t even know had been covered.
You’d been panicking ever since and it felt like you were going to get a heart attack at any moment.  
“Doritos or Lays?” 
“Kick to the nuts or knuckles to the jaw?” 
Your best friend tore his gaze from the rack of chips and eyed you warily. “I said I’ll help you study tonight.” 
“You don’t understand, Jeno!” you exclaimed and ran a hand through your messy hair, pacing in the supermarket aisle impatiently. “I’m going to fail! Fail!”  
Groaning, Jeno grabbed your arm and forced you to face him. He held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, enunciating each word as he reiterated, “You’re not going to fail. We’re going to pull an all-nighter in the library, but we need to be stocked up on food before we do that.” 
You sighed painfully. It burned your eyes to just focus on anything—how the hell were you supposed to stay awake for another day and write a three-hour-long exam after that? 
“You could have come here without dragging me with you,” you muttered. “I could have been studying at home instead of wasting precious time.”
Jeno frowned. “Any more time in front of your laptop and you would have gone insane, Y/N. Your eyes are completely red.” 
“Oh, that’s not because of the screen time. I cried before you came to check on me.” 
Huffing a small laugh that bordered on exasperation, amusement and worry, Jeno threw a few packets of Doritos in the shopping cart before slinging an arm around your neck. You let him pull you against him and wrapped your arms around his waist as the two of you began walking. 
“Well, you needed to get out anyway. I don’t remember the last time I saw you leave your apartment.” 
“I stepped outside yesterday to play with the neighbour’s cat,” you said defensively. 
“Not good enough,” Jeno popped. “We’re going to go get a massage once we’re done shopping.” 
You stopped in your tracks and peeled yourself away from him. “The final is in twenty-eight hours!” you yelled, staring at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?!” 
“So you have plenty of time to de-stress before you start studying again!” he chirped, paying no heed to your concerns nor the people who had heard your outburst and were giving you odd looks. “Trust me, I went for a massage before my final and I was so relaxed. It helped me to focus too.” 
“Jeno,” you uttered his name with barely contained impatience. “I don’t have time. I need to cover a lot of shit before I go and sit in the fucking examination hall.” 
“And I said I’ll help!” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated. Pushing the shopping cart forward again, he studied the shelves and continued, “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out before a test and act like the world is ending only for you to do super well.”
“Well—” you began, stumbling after him— “that’s just my coping mechanism! The more worried I am, the better I do. But I’m screwed for real this time!” 
“No,” Jeno popped, placing a 2-litre bottle of Sprite in the cart. “I’m not listening to you this time. Especially not after you stayed awake for three days straight for your midterm.” 
You sighed again. There was no arguing with your best friend. “How long is this massage of yours going to take?” 
“We’ll be back at your place in two hours max,” he reassured you, patting your head. You swatted his hand away and gave him a dirty look. “I think we have everything we need to make it through today and tomorrow.” 
“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?” 
“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”
“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”
“Sure,” you snorted. “You’ll just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”
A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”
“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”
His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”
“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.
“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skincare when I’m drunk.”
You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”
“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”
You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”
“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, coming together to make people suffer has always been our thing.”
You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”
Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”
“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”
“You could buy me an ice cream instead.”
“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”
Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.
An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.
You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.
Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night. 
You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno scooped you up in his arms.
You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.
You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.
“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions, so keep in mind that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”
Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.
Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.
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𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 !
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01. having to deal with a narcissistic asshole. 
It was an especially sweltering day. 
You were being baked inside-out despite wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, your hair tied in a messy high bun. Adding to your torment was your broken A/C. You’d requested your landlord to fix it several times but your efforts were to no avail. 
You would have kept bothering him incessantly and gotten the job done if you weren’t so intimidated by him already. 
Sighing, you eyed your bathroom. A cold shower sounded like an amazing idea. Jeno wasn’t supposed to come over to watch the movie for a while anyway. 
Deciding to cool yourself and get rid of the sweat sticking to your body, you entered the tiny bathroom. A high-pitched squeal left your mouth the moment you turned the shower knob and the cold water hit your skin. 
“Fuck,” you cursed and flinched, turning the knob the other way immediately. Your shitty apartment didn’t even have a valve to adjust the temperature—the water was either mildly hot or ice cold. Showering in summer was always a big problem.
“God, I don’t wanna keep doing this,” you mumbled to yourself and stepped into your room again. 
There was this… thing you’d been doing ever since you moved into this apartment. Whenever it was hot, you’d work out so you’d get more sweaty. That way, when you showered under the ice-cold water, it didn’t feel as unbearable. 
It was weird and there probably was no science behind it, but you didn’t care as long as it worked. 
So, you rolled out your yoga mat on the floor and began warming up. 
Within no time, your skin was glistening with sweat and your hair was damp. You were struggling to complete the last push-up of your final set when someone knocked on your door, causing you to lose your focus. Your arms gave out beneath you, and you collapsed to the ground. 
“Woah, it’s boiling in here,” Jeno pointed out intelligently. “And you look like you’re one move away from dying. God, I can’t even breathe Why the fuck are you working out with the windows closed? Are you stupid?” 
Groaning, you rolled on your back and watched your best friend as he moved to the windows and threw them open. “Hey!” you protested weakly and raised a trembling arm in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “I’m trying to do something!”
Jeno raised an eyebrow at you and grabbed your hand, hauling you up effortlessly. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell.” 
You crashed into his chest and rebounded, but he tightened his hold on you. His palm hovered over your back in case you lost your balance. Steadying yourself, you glared at him and snapped, “No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”
“I won’t!” Jeno laughed, his eyes crinkling. 
“Stop, you’re doing it already!” 
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I really do wanna know what you were doing.” 
You eyed him for a moment, waiting for him to slip up and start laughing again. But Jeno’s face remained mildly curious. Satisfied, you explained, “Well, because I was feeling hot, I decided to take a shower. The water here is very cold, though, so I decided to work out in a closed room because that would make me even hotter. If I get in the shower now, it wouldn’t feel as cold because my body temperature has already increased, and the water would be sort of neutralised.” 
A beat of silence passed. And then, “I know I said I wouldn’t make fun of you—”
“Then stop talking.”
“But did you not realise you could have mixed the hot and cold water in a bucket?” Jeno continued, clearly still talking. “Or, I don’t know, come over to my place to shower?” 
“You live with three other men.” You deadpanned. “I was not going to shower in your apartment with Jaemin, Renjun and Hyuck there. Also, I don’t have a big enough bucket, so I will be buying one today,” you added, muttering the last bit. 
Jeno rolled his eyes. “God, Y/N, I would have kicked the guys out.” 
“What makes you think they would have listened to you?” you asked amusedly.
“Okay, true,” he agreed. “They would have listened to you, though. If there’s anyone who’s bossy enough to get them out of the house on a hot Sunday afternoon, it’s you.” 
“Are you calling me bossy?” 
“Are you going to shower now?” he deflected. “You stink.”
“Shut up!” you exclaimed and slapped his shoulder hard, but laughed nonetheless. Moving away from him, you kicked him off your yoga mat and said, “You opened the windows and interrupted my workout, so I don’t feel as hot anymore. I think I’m gonna exercise a little more so I don’t die of hypothermia in the shower. You can take my laptop and choose a movie till then if you want.”
“How about I work out with you?” Jeno suggested. “We can have our gym bros moment.” 
“I don’t wanna have a gym bros moment with you.”
“Why?” he whined. 
Flicking his forehead, you said, “Because I know you’re gonna turn this into a competition, and I’m not in the mood.” 
“Scared?”
“You wish,” you scoffed. “I’m tired from all the working out I did before you came, and I’m not going against you when you have that advantage over me.” 
“That still means you’re scared. Pussy.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you got into the position for a plank. “Get out if you’re going to keep being annoying and not contribute shit to our gym bros moment.”
“I knew you’d come around,” Jeno replied smugly. You practically heard the grin in his voice when he said that. 
You closed your eyes and laboured your breathing as you felt your abdomen begin to burn almost immediately. “Had to, or I knew you’d keep irritating me.” 
Opening your lids, you turned your neck to see if he was doing the exercise with you. 
Your arms gave out the moment you saw Jeno shirtless, his bulging biceps on full display.
“Damn, you lost quicker than I thought,” he commented. 
“Why are you naked?!” you demanded in a shrill voice. 
Still in position, Jeno only glanced at you like you were out of your mind. “I was wearing a hoodie, Y/N. Did you expect me to do a plank in that furnace?” 
“Yeah!” you exclaimed. To your dismay, your eyes kept drifting to his well-defined muscles no matter how much you tried to focus on his face. 
To make things worse, Jeno noticed. And smirked. “Stop complaining if you’re enjoying the view so much. It’s okay to admit you have a hot best friend.”
Flustered, you scrambled to your feet and looked at the ceiling. God, you felt like a stupid middle schooler. It was insane how much of an effect Jeno was having on you. What was weirder was that your mind was drifting to places it had never been before. At least where your best friend was concerned. 
“Narcissus has nothing on you,” you muttered under your breath, and tried to gather your bearings. 
“Besides,” Jeno continued, having not heard you. “I do send you pictures sometimes. I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never seen me like this.” 
“Your phone’s camera is fucked, Jeno,” you grumbled. “The photos you texted me didn’t capture half of what’s actually there.”
No matter what you hadn’t seen, you’d felt whenever you hugged each other. It didn’t take away your surprise upon seeing the 2440p quality visual though. 
“Is that disappointment I hear?” he taunted. 
“No!” you exclaimed and finally looked at him again. At the sight of his working muscles, you muttered, “Can we stop now? You won.”
“Ah!” Jeno dragged the word as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation. “You want me to stand up so you can get a better view of my abs? Got it.” 
Your eyes widened, and before you could deny his ridiculous accusations, he was towering over you. Wiggling his eyebrows, he gestured towards himself and flexed dramatically. 
“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, unable to help yourself. 
“Yeah? Then I guess an idiot just managed to fluster the shit out of you.” Jeno smiled and ruffled your hair. Bending, he picked up his discarded hoodie and shrugged it back on. “I’ll go and get you a bathing bucket from the supermarket around the corner. Don’t freeze yourself to death.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I won’t.” 
“Also, do you remember the shirt I forgot here all those months ago after I got wet in the rain? Can you find it so I can change into it when I’m back?” He frowned and looked at himself. “I’ll eventually toast myself if I watch the movie in my hoodie.”
“Sure, but you’re stupid for wearing warm clothes in summer,” you commented.  
Jeno gave you a dirty look. “Sorry for assuming your A/C was in working condition. Besides, you always want to cuddle when we watch movies, so I figured you’d be more comfortable if I was wearing a hoodie.” 
Your cheeks warmed at that, your heart stumbling a beat. What was wrong with you? You’d always known Jeno was caring and went out of his way to do nice things for you.
Typically, you’d have felt grateful for how thoughtful he was being. 
Now, though, you felt that and… something else that you didn’t really want to acknowledge. 
“Whatever,” you said instead, trying to sound dismissive. Pushing him out of your room, you continued, “I’ll find it. Just hurry up with the bucket.” 
A few minutes after Jeno was gone, a notification popped up on your phone. 
[jeno]: clearer picture that i clicked on jaemin’s phone for your viewing pleasure :”) 
You blinked in confusion and opened the photo that was attached below, your eyes widening the moment you saw it. It was a zoomed-in gym mirror selfie of Jeno wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes, his muscular abdomen on full display. 
[you]: did you crop jaemin? 
[jeno]: ???? [jeno]: wdym……. [you]: the photo’s dimensions are weird [jeno]: oh [jeno]: what the fuck [you]: LMFAOOO [jeno]: STOP I DIDN’T WANT YOU LOOKING AT HIM INSTEAD OF ME I’VE GOT A BETTER BODY ANYWAY AND I’M GONNA BUY A NEW PHONE SO I CAN SEND YOU CLEARER PICS WITHOUT HAVING TO CROP THAT FUCKER OUT 
You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide. Right before you were about to type a reply, you received another text from your best friend. 
[jeno]: so are you gonna tell me what you think [you]: FINE you’re hot. [you]: happy?  [jeno]: euphoric
Finally laughing out loud, you shook your head. 
Narcissus had nothing on Jeno indeed.
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02. female friends ask you to be their wingwoman 
You didn’t think you’d ever accompanied Jeno to a party without having someone ask you to set them up with him. 
“Please,” Yoo Jimin begged for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Yeji said he was single!” 
Sighing, you mentally cursed Yeji for inviting Jimin to Jeno’s party. “He is, but I’m not setting you up with him.” 
“Why?” Jimin demanded rather aggressively, making you wonder what it would take for her to quit nagging you. “Do you like him or something?” 
It took a concerning amount of effort for you to refrain from rolling your eyes. “I do not.” 
“Then what’s the problem?” 
“I don’t know, Jimin!” you finally burst and gestured at your surroundings. “Maybe I’m not too keen on helping you out because you followed me into the washroom and cornered me! Maybe I feel used because you’ve never shown much interest in me even though I’ve tried striking up a conversation with you several times before!”  
Jimin’s features softened, and she looked away. “You’re right,” she muttered, guilt and shame evident in her voice. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.” 
You immediately felt bad for snapping at her. Pursing your lips, you tried to cheer her up. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need me to set you up with him anyway. I know we haven’t hung out much, but based on what I’ve heard about you from Yeji, you’re smart, funny and social. You have no reason to be nervous while approaching Jeno.” 
For some reason, you regretted encouraging Jimin to pursue your best friend. A gaping hole formed in your heart, and you wished she would go for someone else instead. 
“Thanks, Y/N.” Jimin smiled gratefully. “I know I’ve been a shitty person, but could you give me another chance? I’d really like to get to know you more.” 
And just like that, the hollowness in your chest was gone. You gave her a genuine smile of your own and said, “I gotta pee right now, but does lunch tomorrow work for you?”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where we were.” Rubbing the nape of her neck sheepishly, she replied, “Lunch works. I’ll text you tonight so we can talk about it.” 
The two of you exchanged your goodbyes, and then she was gone. A few minutes later, you exited the washroom as well and headed back to the party. 
“I missed you,” a voice slurred in your ear. Arms circled around your waist, and a face buried itself into the crook of your neck. 
You laughed. “You failed the challenge, Jeno.” 
“Where were you?” he demanded in an almost whiny tone. “It’s your fault! I wouldn’t have lost at beer pong if you’d been playing with me.” 
Patting Jeno’s back in consolation, you replied, “I’m sorry you have zero self-control and commit to things you know you won’t be able to do.” 
Jeno peeled himself away from you and pouted. “You’re mean.”
“Thanks. Let’s get wasted together,” you said, but then added upon looking at his already tipsy condition, “Or I can get wasted, and your ass can keep me company.”  
“Don’t you think one of us should be sober?” Jeno asked as you pulled him along.
“I’m not gonna hold back from drinking!” you exclaimed. “Let me remind you that you were supposed to be the sober one today and make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m blaming you if I get naked in the yard.” 
Thanks to the music that was gradually getting louder as you approached the main party area, you didn’t hear your best friend’s response. You tightened your grip on his hand when the crowd thickened. Wading your way through the dancing throng, you finally reached the table lined with alcohol and food. 
You chose a bottle of Romanov and popped it open, drinking straight from it. You’d barely taken a few gulps when Jeno snatched it from you and put it to his own mouth. 
Throwing him a dirty look, you picked up another bottle for yourself. “Do you wanna dance?”
“I wanna throw up.” 
“Suit yourself.” You shrugged and aimed for the dance floor. A smile crept on your face upon seeing Jaemin; you were not in the mood to dance alone. 
“Y/N!” he hollered when he noticed you. Stumbling towards you, he pulled you in a quick embrace. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 
“Finals!” you answered. Jaemin nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his hair, taking a swig from his beer. “Do you wanna dance?” 
You grinned. “You know I do.” 
The next few hours were a complete blur. The bottle in your hand was replaced by more one after the other, and when Jaemin deemed you’d had enough to drink, he gave you a red solo cup filled with water instead. 
It felt good to finally unwind after the horrible few weeks you’d had. There was no academic stress weighing down on you anymore, and though you were low on sleep, you didn’t want to stop partying. 
You just wished you and Jeno had gotten wasted together. While you were having fun with Jaemin, partying with Jeno was a different experience entirely. 
Right as you were about to take a sip from your cup, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck. The touch was so familiar that you recognised who it was immediately. 
“I missed you!” you exclaimed. Jeno looked down at you with a grin on his face, a pair of black party glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was damp and fell over his forehead. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you could have sworn he never looked better. “Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Jeno laughed. “Haven’t you been doing that for the past two hours? Don’t your feet hurt?” 
Frowning, you glanced at your legs. “They do!” you exclaimed, and looked back at him again, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes, you mumbled, “But I still want to dance.”
“How about we go on the roof instead? The stars look pretty tonight,” your best friend suggested, trying his best not to laugh at you. “I didn’t drink at all after you left me. I’m sober enough to take care of you now.” 
Your eyes lit up at that. “Wow, that’s such a good idea! You’re so smart, Jeno. I love you.”  
Jeno’s lips finally twitched up in a smile. “I love you too, silly.” 
Plucking the solo cup out of your hand, he offered you an arm. You looped yours through it with a soft thank you and leaned on him as he led you upstairs. 
The two of you entered his dark room, and Jeno shut the door behind him. Only when the loud music was muffled did you realise your head was throbbing.  
He unhooked your arms gently and grabbed a warm blanket off his bed. Throwing open his window, he jumped out on the flat roof and looked at you expectantly. 
You staggered behind Jeno and took the hand he was holding out for you. His other hand hovered over your waist as you climbed on the sill. 
Thanks to the alcohol in your system, your balance was non-existent, and your legs turned to jelly the moment they made contact with the roof. Fortunately, your best friend was there to catch you.
You bumped into Jeno’s chest instead of falling to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you and steadied you, laughing a little at your antics. 
“God, how much did you drink?” you heard him wonder to himself. You mumbled an incoherent response and leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching him lay the spread on the floor. 
The two of you usually climbed the ladder that led to the slanting roof at the very top of the house, but you reckoned the boy in front of you didn’t want to risk taking you up there when you were so wasted. 
Jeno sat down on the blanket once he was done and peeked at you over his shoulder, patting the space beside him. “Come on.” 
Pushing yourself off the siding, you stumbled to him, tripping over your feet a bit. You were able to keep your balance, though, and a moment later, you found yourself lying on the blanket next to him.
Your shoulders brushed against each other, the warmth from his body seeping into you. It was summer, but the night air was still chilly, especially now that you were on the roof. You were thankful for the protection Jeno offered against the mild cold. 
The music was blaring once again now that you were outside, and there were no barriers to deafen it, but the volume barely bothered you. Your eyes were on the stars, trying to identify the constellations.
“I see Orion right there,” Jeno said, pointing at the sky. You followed his finger, and sure enough, there it was. “And there’s Ursa Minor.” He moved his hand after noting that you had recognised Orion. 
“I don’t see it,” you muttered, blinking heavily to clear your sight. 
“Can you see Polaris?” he asked, glancing at you for a moment. 
You raised your hand and pointed it at a random star that was nowhere near the one Jeno was referring to. “There.” 
Jeno snorted. “You could spot Orion, but you can’t identify the brightest star in the sky?” Without waiting for a response, your best friend grabbed your arm and directed it to the right star. “That is Polaris.” 
“Woah.” You gaped and lowered your arm. “It’s so shiny.” 
Jeno laughed again upon hearing the child-like wonder in your voice. You stargazed often and always challenged each other to see who could identify the most constellations in a minute. He knew the night sky was familiar to you, but seeing you like this reminded Jeno of the first time he brought you to his roof and introduced you to his favourite hobby. 
“Do you want it?” he teased. 
Eyes widening, you turned your neck to look at him, your faces so close you could count his lashes. “Really?” 
“Really,” he said and pinched your cheek, unable to help himself. “I’ll get it for you.” 
A wide smile immediately broke across your lips, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!” you squealed. 
Jeno chuckled, a little surprised that you had practically climbed on top of him, and part of him was caged under you now. He didn’t mind the sudden intimacy. It had always been his love language; any sort of physical contact with you—be it comparing hand sizes or carrying you on his back—warmed his heart. 
Patting your head, he asked, “You want me to show you the rest of Ursa Minor?” 
“Yes.” You nodded into the crook of his neck and peeled yourself away from him, but your head still rested where his shoulder met his arm. 
Brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, he averted his gaze to the sky. “Polaris is the tail of The Little Dipper. Now we move towards the left. See the star that’s above the brightest? That’s Delta. Epsilon is above Delta too, but the distance between them is not as much as the distance between the first two. Zeta is below—” 
You tuned Jeno out. He was still showing you the stars that made up the constellations, far too invested to notice that you were no longer paying attention to what he was saying and were looking at something much more beautiful instead. 
You’d always known your best friend was attractive. You’d have to be blind to not notice his striking features—they were sharp with a certain softness around the edges. His face always stood out in crowds and demanded people’s undivided attention. 
Rightfully so, you thought to yourself as you admired his perfectly straight nose and the shape of his soft lips, diverting your gaze to his eyes. You’d always thought they were his best features. They were warm and open and felt like home. It deserves to be appreciated. 
“Pherka, Eta, Kochab and Zeta form a—”
“You’re prettier.”
Jeno glanced at you, your faces mere inches away and those beautiful eyes peering into yours with slight confusion. “What?”
“You said the stars looked pretty tonight,” you whispered. “I think you’re prettier.” You paused for a moment, as if rethinking your words. Then, “I think you’re the prettiest person in the world.”
A fond smile crept on your best friend’s face, and maybe it was because your ear was in the vicinity of his heart, but you could have sworn you heard it thumping loudly against his ribcage. Lightly bumping his forehead against yours, Jeno whispered back, 
“I think you’re the prettiest person in the world too.” 
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03. it’s very easy to fall for them, especially when they’re always so sweet and caring
The first thing you felt upon regaining your consciousness was pain. 
Your skull was splitting apart, the little bit of sunlight creeping in through the closed curtains rendering you blind. Nausea was beginning to set in, but your body was so weak that you weren’t sure you could make it to the toilet in time. 
You should have never drunk so much. Not only had you not taken any proper rest after working yourself to exhaustion during your finals, but had also danced to the point you couldn’t move your legs. Heck, you couldn’t even remember much of the party. You recalled leaving Jeno behind to party with Jaemin, but everything after that was a huge blank slate. 
The toilet was far away, but you could try reaching the dustbin near the study table instead of just throwing up on the carpet. Groaning, you tried to push yourself up. When that didn’t work, you put all strength in your abdomen and threw yourself off the bed. 
A shockwave of agony passing through your body rendered you immobile on the ground. You moaned in pain and curled in on yourself, covering your mouth with a hand upon tasting bile on your tongue. 
The door was thrown open, and a worried Jeno gaped at you lying on his room’s hard floor motionlessly. “What the fuck?” 
“Dustbin,” you croaked with much difficulty, tears springing to your eyes. They hurt so much you wanted to rip them out. 
Your best friend moved into action immediately. “I kept the dustbin right beside the bed in case you got sick, you blind twat truck. Along with painkillers and water on the table.”  
You found it in yourself to glare at the boy, but he ignored you. Placing the waste basket in front of you, he helped you up. You gripped the rim as he gathered your hair in his hand and held it up to avoid it getting in the way of your vomit. 
Right before you emptied the toxins in your body, you managed to say to him, “How capable do I look to you right now, you stupid toe-licking grinch man?” 
Jeno rolled his eyes and rubbed your back with his other hand, patiently waiting for you to finish. Once your heaving stopped, you took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiped your mouth. You felt much better after throwing up but you were still so tired. 
“Come on.”
You swatted Jeno’s hand away and rested your back on his bed, tucking your legs under your chin. “Too much effort,” you muttered and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go away.
“I was going to carry you to the bed, Y/N,” he said in exasperation. 
“I just need a moment,” you whispered almost incoherently, wishing he would stop asking you questions when you had no energy to answer. “A moment and an Aspirin.” 
There was some shuffling, and then you felt a hand brushing your matted hair out of your face. “Here.”
You peeled your lids open to see Jeno crouched in front of you with water and the painkiller you had asked for. Taking it from his hand, you popped it into your mouth and gulped down some water. 
For a few moments, you tried to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Jeno could tell you were gathering the willpower and strength to climb back on his bed. He wanted to help, but you clearly didn’t want it. So, he just watched you silently struggle.
He should have been with you last night; he hated that he wasn’t when he had promised to be the sober half. As far as Jeno was concerned, Jaemin was going to get an earful about keeping tabs on how much his friends drank. Never in the two years of friendship had he seen you with such a huge hangover. 
“Fuck,” he heard you curse under your breath. You moaned in pain as you pushed yourself up on trembling arms and fell on his mattress. Sighing, Jeno tucked you in and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
“Sleep well,” he said and made his way to the door. “I’ll wake you up for lunch. Renjun is making grilled sandwiches.” 
Your eyes flew open again. Fuck. You were supposed to meet Jimin. 
“Jeno, wait,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but I don’t think I can make it. Can you cover for me?” 
Your best friend leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which friend?” 
“Jimin.” 
“I thought she ghosted you.” He frowned. “Now you’re meeting her for lunch?” 
“No, you are meeting her for lunch. I don’t wanna be rude and cancel at the last minute. What if she already left?”
“It’s 10 in the morning.”
“Well, what if she turned down other offers because of the plans we made?” 
“She left an hour ago with Mark after passing out on the couch in Hyuck’s room last night. I doubt she’s had the time to turn down any other offers. Actually, I think she’ll be glad you cancelled. She looked pretty hungover when she left.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” you whined, wincing when the throbbing in your head responded to the sudden increase in the volume of your voice. “I’m only asking you for a small favour.” 
“I’m not being difficult,” Jeno defended himself and took a few steps towards you. “I’m trying to tell you that you may be overthinking this. Let me send her a text from your phone asking for a reschedule, and we can have some homemade lunch with the guys.” 
Sighing heavily, you averted your gaze from his and stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna blow this. I think she’s really cool and I’d like to get to know her more. I’m good friends with everyone in our social circle except her. It’s awkward.” 
Jeno’s eyes softened at that. “Y/N, you’re not blowing anything. Rescheduling lunch because you both partied till you collapsed is not going to take away any points. Trust me.” 
Your best friend was right. You were overthinking this, but you didn’t exactly blame yourself. All your efforts to befriend Jimin had been futile till now. You didn’t want to do anything that could mess up the friendship that had begun to bloom last night. 
“Fine,” you finally relented. “Shoot her a text from my phone. I think it’s in my clothes bag—” you paused, your eyes widening. Lifting Jeno’s duvet in panic, you looked down at yourself. “Who changed my clothes?” 
“Ningning did!” Jeno answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He couldn’t understand why he was freaking out—nothing happened. 
You exhaled in relief, trying to get rid of the alien tingling feeling spreading throughout your body. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Okay. Well, my phone’s in my clothes bag.” 
Jeno busied himself, rummaging through your backpack that was on his bedside table. What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just a front for him to calm himself down. “Got it.” He waved the phone at you. “What’s your pin?”
“Your birthday.”
His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a seed of warmth sprouted in his chest. A dizzying sense of affection for you washed over him, drenching him in happiness from head to toe. “Really?” 
You nodded and closed your eyes. Turning on your side to get into a more comfortable sleeping position, you buried yourself deeper under his sheets. Yawning, you mumbled, “Day-Month-Year with leading zeros.” 
“My password is your birthday too,” he said quietly after sending Jimin the text. “A lot of them are. It’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.”
You didn’t respond. Jeno didn’t mind. He knew you’d already fallen asleep. Keeping your phone on the table, he smiled sadly and stared at your resting figure in longing. “Everything about you is so easy to remember.”
Jeno closed the door behind him as he left, none the wiser about the fact that you were still awake and had heard everything he’d said, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leap out of your chest. 
Your best friend left, completely unaware of the fact that you were now entertaining the possibility of being in love with him. 
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𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 !
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01. the green-eyed monster you resent makes an appearance more than you’d like
You genuinely couldn’t believe your friend group and their seemingly never-ending social battery. 
One would think that after a long night of partying, a person would stay at home the next day and take some much-needed rest. Your friends, however, thought it was a good idea to meet up for dinner and decide what to do over the weekend. 
You didn’t bother to remind them of the wonderful invention that was group chats. 
“We should drive up to the beach,” Mark suggested, flipping through the menu. “Summer just started, so I don’t think there will be a lot of people.” 
All of you were seated in a round booth at the back of a diner Chenle said he frequented. You weren’t going to lie; you could see why. The setting was very homey, and the cushioning of the sofa was very cosy—you were almost sure you were going to fall asleep even before your food arrived. 
Ningning, who was sitting beside Mark, peeked over his shoulder to see what was listed. Minjeong said, “That’s stupid. The start of summer is exactly when beaches get overcrowded. Most don’t get to visit the ocean during the year, so they make a beeline for the beach as soon as break begins.”  
“True,” you heard Jeno say. He leaned back in his seat and put his arm on the cushion behind you. You resisted the urge to lean in. Taking a sip of his water, he continued, “Besides, we’re already going to Jeju Island for a week next month. I don’t think we should drive three hours to go to the beach right now.” 
“What about karaoke?” Jimin piped up. She was sitting on the other side of Minjeong, opposite from Chenle, who was on the other side of the table. 
“We don’t need an entire weekend for just karaoke,” Chenle pointed out. “We could do it whenever we want.”
“Well, what about—” 
“Hey, can I take your order?” a female voice that was a combination of annoyed, upbeat, friendly and polite interrupted Minjeong. The girl looked a little flustered at being cut off, but she cleared her throat and mumbled a small yeah, just give us a minute.
The waitress did not move, so all of you awkwardly picked up the menu cards and began flipping through them. 
“The usual for me, Yuna,” Chenle said, smiling up at her. To diffuse the sudden tension created in the air, he began making small talk with her as she waited. 
“What are you eating?” Jeno asked. He was closer to you now, his eyes scanning the contents of the menu card in your hand over your shoulder. 
You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m eating anything. I’m not very hungry.” 
Jeno’s eyebrows creased, and he glanced at your face in worry. “You haven’t had anything since lunch. At least drink something.” 
“It’s fine.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and pushed the card in his direction so he could order whatever he wanted. “I won’t be able to finish anything by myself and I don’t wanna waste food.” 
“How about we share?” he insisted. “You eat however much you want, and I’ll finish the rest. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.” 
An internal battle began. While Jeno’s suggestion was sensible, you knew he didn’t like to share his food with anyone. You remembered a time when he had refused to go on a second date with a girl because she kept nibbling on his meal. You didn’t want him to do something he hated just for your sake. 
“Really, it’s fine,” you repeated. “You go ahead and—”
“Hey, Y/N,” Yeji called, making you divert your attention to her. “You wanna share a triple-decker chicken sandwich? Chenle said this place is famous all over town for that dish.” 
You had to admit, a triple-decker chicken sandwich did sound tasty. But you’d just turned down Jeno, so you didn’t wanna say yes to Yeji. Shaking your head, you once again said, “I’m not hungry.”
“Why aren’t you hungry?” Mark frowned, overhearing your conversation. The rest of your friend group looked at you in concern. Ningning asked, “Are you okay?” 
You groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to everyone why you didn’t have an appetite. “I’m okay. I’m just not hungry because I had a lot for lunch.”
“That’s a lie,” Jeno commented unhelpfully, and you smacked his shoulder hard in retaliation. He winced, rubbing the area of attack. “Hey!” 
“Shut up!” you exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, you said to everyone with as little annoyance in your voice as you could, “Please just order what you want. I still feel a little weird after last night’s party, and I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.” Before anyone could reply, you added, “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.” 
Yeji looked a little stunned, but she got up from her seat and let you leave the booth when you requested her to move. Locking yourself in one of the stalls, you clutched your stomach and curled in on yourself, closing your eyes. 
Your period cramps were especially painful this time. Maybe it was because of last night’s exertion, but your cycle was early too. Your stomach was in too many knots for you to even think about eating anything. 
The washroom’s door opened, and you heard soft footsteps trudging towards you. Knocking on the only occupied stall’s door, a female voice asked, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” 
“Yeah,” you croaked, feeling tears burning your eyes. “Everything’s fine, Jimin. I just have period cramps, that’s all.” 
“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. “I have painkillers. Do you want them?” 
Exhaling through your mouth, you wiped your moist cheeks and stepped out of the stall. “Sure.”
Jimin smiled at you reassuringly and handed you a wet wipe, looping her arm through yours. “Don’t worry. I got you.”
Your heart swelled with happiness and gratitude. You’d wanted to connect with her for so long, and it finally felt like you were getting somewhere this time. Maybe you were being overemotional due to your fluctuating hormones, but you wanted to pull her into a hug.
“Oh, also,” you started a little sheepishly, “I wanted to apologise in person about cancelling on you earlier today. I drank and partied more than I should have. I thought about sending Jeno to cover for me, but he pointed out that it would have been awkward for you to see him when you were expecting me.”
“Woah, wait!” she gaped and took a step away from you. The shock on her face surprised you for a moment, but the feeling didn’t last long. “You’re kidding me! You should have kept insisting, Y/N! A lunch date would have been the perfect way for us to get closer!”
“I don’t think he would have considered the lunch a date because he was just a stand-in for me,” you said awkwardly, and threw the used wipe in the dustbin. 
Jimin waved you away as you walked out of the restroom and back to your booth. “I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t have been an official date, but it would have given me the opportunity to ask him out on a real one.”
“Right.”  
You hated the way you sounded. You hated the way your stomach churned, and your mood dropped. You hated that someone was pursuing Jeno. You hated that you were being forced to play Cupid, all thanks to your strong refusal to admit your feelings and the friendship you wanted to build with the girl next to you. 
“Oh, my God!” Jimin exclaimed, too immersed in her own fantasies to have noticed the change in your tone and demeanour. “I can make up for the missed opportunity by sitting next to him right now! You wouldn’t mind, would you?” 
You did mind. The idea of her making a move on your best friend made you want to dig a hole and cry. God, you were being so pathetic. This was completely unlike you, and you despised the way you were acting. You had to pull yourself together immediately. 
Besides, it wasn’t like you were ever going to explore these newfound feelings you had for Jeno. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship. Forcing an encouraging smile on your face, you said, “Um, sure! That’s a really good idea.”
“Took you guys long enough,” Chenle commented once you returned. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you have any other places to be?” 
“I mean I was worried.” He rolled his eyes. “We ordered food while you were gone. You sure you don’t want anything, Y/N?” 
“Yep,” you said, popping the last letter. “Scoot over and make space for us.” 
Yeji got up again and stood to the side as Jimin, and you slid into the booth. “The two of you better not make me get up again. I’m not budging even if you need to take a big dump.” 
“Sorry,” you muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Making yourself comfortable, you grabbed your glass of water and dipped a straw in it, idly sipping the liquid. 
Jeno’s gaze caught yours from behind Jimin’s back. He pointed at her with a frown on his face and mouthed, “Why is she sitting beside me?” 
You waved him away and turned your attention to the rest of your friends. “Please tell me you guys finally decided what we’re doing over the weekend.”
“We did,” Mark piped up. “We’re thinking of going to an amusement park and then a water park.”
Jimin frowned. “Won’t those places be crowded as well?” 
“We just need to accept that most destinations will be. Everyone’s on break, so it doesn’t matter where we go. There will be people everywhere.” 
You agreed with Minjeong. “Amusement park it is. Can we hit the bars at night?”
“It won’t be much of a trip if we don’t.” Ningning grinned. “You sure you want to go clubbing so soon though? You were completely wasted when Jeno called me to his room and made me change your clothes last night.”
Mark snickered. “Are you scared of changing your own girlfriend’s clothes, Jeno?”  
Silence. No one spoke. 
NingNing was staring at Mark incredulously, and Yeji seemed to be suffering through an extreme case of second-hand embarrassment. Chenle pretended to flip through the menu while Minjeong grabbed her phone and scrolled through the apps on her home screen in an attempt to look busy. 
Jimin whirled to face you so fast that you wondered how her neck hadn’t snapped. You couldn’t even dare to look at Jeno to see what reaction Mark’s words had evoked out of him. 
Laughing awkwardly, you asked, “Who said we’re dating?” 
“You’re kidding me, right?” Mark scoffed in disbelief. “You guys are so bad at keeping your relationship private. Everyone knows there’s something going on between the two of you.” 
“Is that true?” Jeno asked, but no one present at the table dared to meet his gaze. “Do all of you think there’s something going on between Y/N and me?” 
“I mean….” Chenle began, dragging the word out. “You both are very close. People who claim to be just friends don’t cross the boundaries you two step all over everyday. But we’ve never seen you kiss either, so we’re not sure if you’re dating secretly or…” 
“You guys are crazy,” you interrupted. “Stop speculating about our relationship. It’s weird.” Turning to face a very betrayed-looking Jimin, you enunciated, “Jeno and I are just friends. That’s all there is to us.”
“Yeah,” Jeno added, glancing at you. “Y/N and I will only ever be friends. There’s no way I would date her. I don’t find her attractive in a romantic way.” 
Feeling a knot form in your heart and anger bubble in the pit of your stomach, you snapped, “Same. Jeno’s not even my type. I wouldn’t get together with him if we were the only people left on Earth.” 
Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and poor Jimin, who was stuck sitting between Jeno and you, made an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Okay, guys. We get it.” 
“I’m not sure you do,” Jeno hissed, staring all your friends down. “I can see your damn faces. The only way you’re going to believe I’m not into Y/N is if I prove it to you by going out with someone else.” 
Minjeong began, “That’s not—” 
“No, he’s right,” you fumed. Under the table, your hand curled into a fist. “The only way you guys are going to get this stupid image of Jeno and me being together romantically is if we date other people.” 
“The two of you are overreacting!” Yeji exclaimed. “There’s no need to get so defensive! We were wrong for assuming, and Mark was an idiot for opening his fat mouth. I’m sure you both would have told us if there was something. We’re all sorry.” 
There was a chorus of agreement on the table. Everyone genuinely seemed to be apologetic—except Mark, who was glaring at Yeji and looked mad for being called an idiot. His eyes met yours, and a sheepish smile took form on his lips. 
You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, but your heart was still in knots. There was a certain hollowness in the pit of your stomach. You felt sick and anxious. 
Did Jeno really have to say all those hurtful things just to convince your friends about your platonic relationship? He didn’t need to sound so offended and make your mutual denial a competition. 
Sure, you were the one who had declared there would never be anything more than just friendship between Jeno and you, but he didn’t have to cross the line by saying you weren’t appealing to him. 
Besides, you’d said what you’d said for Jimin. You didn’t actually mean the words that left your mouth. Considering the emotions you’d been feeling recently, it would be a lie to claim you didn’t hope for a different sort of future with Jeno. 
It didn’t matter anyway. A romantic relationship between the two of you wasn’t practical. Your best friend had never so much as hinted at wanting something more. 
In a twisted way, you were glad he said those wounding things. You needed to be pulled back to reality.
“Hey, Jeno,” you heard Jimin say once the food arrived and everyone started eating. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and watch a movie sometime this week?” 
Bile rose to your throat. You hoped to God he would say no. You didn’t care if you were being a shitty person; you didn’t think you could take any more of this torture. 
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
Your eyes were trained on your glass of water, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. As much as you hated eavesdroppers, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to learn where this conversation was going. 
“I am.” Jimin chuckled nervously.
Jeno didn’t reply immediately. The rest of your friends were engaged in their own discussions with the people sitting next to them. The table wasn’t silent by any means, but the only things you could hear were Jimin waiting for his answer with bated breath and the pounding of your heart in your chest. 
Then, “I would be honoured.”
Oh, you were most definitely going to throw up.
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02. you fall for them
You hadn’t talked to Jeno ever since dinner with your group.
He hadn’t reached out to you, and you hadn’t tried to contact him either. You’d received a text from Jimin the next day about the specifics of her date with Jeno. They were supposed to meet up for lunch at a restaurant near your college campus and then go out to watch some sappy rom-com. 
He didn’t even care for rom-coms. You’d begged him to watch one with you countless times and he’d always turned you down. Part of you wondered if he knew Jimin was updating you about everything and he was purposely pulling this shit to get back at you. 
But you dismissed the notion immediately. No way were you so dense and self-centred. Maybe Jeno genuinely was into Jimin. 
Your phone began ringing, and you rolled over on your bed, blindly searching for it on your bedside table. God, you hated being woken up in the middle of your afternoon naps. It almost always guaranteed a headache. 
“Hello,” you said groggily, your throat raw and dry. “Who is this?” 
“Oh! Did I wake you up?” It was Jimin. She sounded upbeat. Your heart sank. “I’m so sorry!” 
Pushing yourself up, you rubbed the gunk out of your eyes and made your way to the window. The darkness made you bump into the corner of your study table, and you bit down on your lip to keep a yelp from escaping. Hobbling, you threw the curtains open and said, “No worries. My alarm was just about to ring. How was the date?” 
Laughter bubbled from the other end of the phone line. “It was cool! He is a really good guy. No wonder everyone is head over heels for him. He opened the door for me, didn’t let me spend any money even though I asked him out, was an excellent listener, called me pretty and beautiful, and drove me back home. Oh, God, and the eye-contact? It made him a hundred times sexier.” 
Seems legit, you thought to yourself. Jeno had always been a gentleman. The other girls you’d set him up with had pretty much given you the same feedback. Part of you felt relieved that this date hadn’t been any different than the others he’d been on. 
Except the rom-com part, of course. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he would agree to something he hated. 
“Ah, I’m happy for you, Jimin!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mean what you said. Your own words tasted like ash on your tongue. “Are you guys going on a second date?” 
“I’m not sure, to be honest. He said he had a great time with me, but when I tried to ask him out again, he just hugged me. That took me by surprise, and I kinda just forgot.” She laughed. “I know good dates usually end with a kiss, but the fact that he didn’t go for one didn’t bother me.”
“Oh,” you mumbled. Sitting on the ledge of your window, you asked, “That sounds nice. Do you think you’ll try asking him again?”
The last thing you expected her to say was no. And the way she said it… she didn’t sound sad or upset or disappointed. She sounded like herself. She sounded the way one would when they talked about the weather. 
It confused you. Didn’t Jimin just say the date was really good? She sounded so happy and delighted. Why was she backing out now?
“I—I don’t get it,” you sputtered. “I thought you were into him. I thought you had a great time today. Why aren’t you going to ask him out again? Did something else happen—?”
“Calm down.” She chuckled. “Nothing happened.” 
“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing happened,” she repeated. “That’s the problem. I like Jeno. He’s attractive, funny and caring. He’s everything a girl would want in a guy. But there was no spark between us. I had a great time with him, but hanging out today didn’t feel any different than usual. It felt like I was hanging out with a good friend, not with a potential romantic interest.
“I was looking forward to exploring what I felt for him. Turns out, it was just physical attraction. It also turns out that he wasn’t into me at all. If it wasn’t obvious the night we all went out for dinner, it was glaringly clear today. I think part of the reason he said yes was that he didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” she added. “The other—major—part was that he’s in love with someone else, and I would rather die than be a homewrecker.”    
“Oh,” you said again. You didn’t know how to respond to that. What did she mean Jeno is in love with someone else? You didn’t dare focus on the last part of what she’d said. You didn’t dare hope that the person she was referring to was you. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else easily. You’re a delight. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”
Jimin laughed again. “If you weren’t in love with Jeno too, Y/N, I would have thought you were into me.” 
It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Forcing yourself to laugh, you croaked, “Whatever do you mean?” 
Saying that was a mistake. You should not have asked her to elaborate. She was going to make you come to terms with your feelings, and all the time and effort you’d spent denying and trying to get rid of them was going to go down the drain. 
Before she could speak, you made a static sound with your mouth. Then, you pretended that the connection was really bad. “Wha—hear—you. Try—back. Hell—?” 
You hung up before Jimin could call you out on your bullshit. A moment later, you saw a text pop up. 
[jimin]: that was soooo unsubtle  [y/n]: idk what ur talking ab!!!!!!! [jimin]: sure [jimin]: also a tiny heads up [jimin]: i told jeno to stop being a pussy and an asshole so he’s on his way 2 ur place now [y/n]: WHAT THE FUCK [jimin]: i’m going 2 pretend u said thank u [jimin]: don’t forget ab our dinner date tmrw [jimin]: have fun <3 
It was crazy how the bell rang almost immediately after you read the last text. You wondered if the timing was planned and that Jimin had told Jeno to wait till she gave him the go-ahead. 
You trudged to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it.
“Hey,” Jeno mumbled with a small smile. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. “Can I come in?” 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded and moved out of the way to make space for him to step inside. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly. 
“You can sit,” you said, feeling the corners of your lips curl up in amusement. 
He sighed and wove his fingers through his strands again. “Not before I apologise for my behaviour. I was completely out of line that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” 
“So you don’t think I’m unattractive?” 
You meant to tease him, but the next thing you knew, he was standing toe-to-toe with you, a desperate and guilt-ridden expression adorning his face. “God, no. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I only said that because… because I knew it would hurt you.” 
Jeno was standing too close to you. You could barely breathe, much less think. But that didn’t stop you from asking, “Why would you want to hurt me?” 
He didn’t answer for what felt like an entire minute. He only kept staring at you, an internal battle raging inside him. Then, he let loose a breath of frustration and moved away. He refused to look at you, and your patience kept slipping with each moment that passed. 
Right when you thought it would snap, Jeno spoke up, “It hurt me when you said you and I would only ever be friends. I know how stupid it sounds, but it really did. For years, I’d been pining after you and hoping that maybe we could be something more in the future. I felt like an idiot when I realised wouldn’t ever view me in that light. 
“You got so defensive when Chenle said all our friends were suspicious of us being in a secret relationship. I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt disgusted at the idea of us being together. I got angry at myself for being naive and said those horrible things without even realising.” 
You didn’t know what to say. This was the second time you’d been rendered speechless in the past thirty minutes. It was one revelation after the other; you were having a hard time keeping up.
“You—you like me?” you stuttered. 
Jeno laughed humourlessly and looked you dead in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.” 
“No.” 
“Yes.” 
You took a step back. “No, no, no, no—”
“Yes,” he pressed. “I’m sorry that I do. I know this changes everything, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just—”
“Why would you go out with Jimin if you… if you love me?” you whispered. 
“Partly to see your reaction and partly in an attempt to get over you,” he admitted. “It didn’t work. I just—I just couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was with her. I felt so guilty for saying such terrible things because I couldn’t deal with my emotions and come to terms with reality. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry too.”
“You don’t have to apologise for not loving me back—”
“That’s not what I’m apologising for,” you interrupted and walked towards him until your abdomens were touching. “I’m apologising for not seeing it sooner. I’m apologising for encouraging Jimin to ask you out even though it killed me. I’m apologising for denying my feelings time and time again. I’m apologising for saying we would only ever be friends. The last thing I want is for our relationship to be platonic.” 
Jeno was barely breathing. “What are you saying?” 
“I’m saying I love you too, Lee Jeno,” you mumbled and stood on your toes, cupping cheeks with your palms. “I’m saying I want you to kiss me.” 
The words didn’t register immediately, but his lips were on yours the moment they did. 
Jeno’s arm snaked around your waist, and he pulled you closer. His hand grabbed your neck from behind, and he tilted his neck to the side, deepening the kiss. 
Your breath hitched in your throat. All you could feel was him. Your nerve-endings were short-circuiting, and pure adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You didn’t think you’d ever been as satisfied and euphoric as you were right now.
Jeno’s lips slotted with yours perfectly. You smiled to yourself upon realising he tasted like chocolates. Your best friend always ate a piece before any event he deemed to be very important. He claimed they gave him good luck. 
Letting go of one of his cheeks, you grabbed the round collar of his shirt and pressed your mouth harder against his. The nights you’d spent wondering how kissing him would feel and then hating yourself immediately for having such thoughts amounted to this. 
You didn’t want to hold back. 
But you had to ask him a question. It didn’t matter how stupid or ridiculous it was; you wanted to know the answer. So, you broke the kiss and inquired with your body still tangled with his, “Why the hell did you agree to watch a rom-com with Jimin?” 
“Really?” he asked exasperatedly. “You wanna talk about Jimin while we’re making out?” 
“I wanna know why you watched a rom-com with her when I’ve been begging you to watch one with me for so long,” you corrected. 
Jeno was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to tell you. You raised an eyebrow. “Well,” he started, blowing out a breath. “She told me you set her up with me, and it pissed me off even more. I knew she’d tell you all about our date, so I suggested we watch a rom-com. I knew you’d be riled up once you realised.” 
You snorted. Who knew? You weren’t actually being a self-centred narcissist when you suspected the same. “You’re an idiot. I was already riled up you were going out with her.” 
“Oh, yeah?” he teased. “Why’d you encourage her in the first place then?”
“Honestly, at first, I thought I could use you to further my friendship with her,” you admitted. Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda shitty of me. But when I realised I was falling for you, I pushed her to pursue you in an attempt to convince myself I was not into you. That obviously backfired and did the very opposite. I was horribly miserable. I wanted to shoot myself everytime I heard her gush about you.” 
He smirked. “She gushed about me?” 
“Oh, get over yourself.” You shoved his shoulder playfully. “How’d you end up here after your date? Jimin texted me that you were coming.”
“Tough, but I’ll try.” He laughed. “She was probably able to tell how disinterested I was. After the date when I dropped her home and hugged her instead of kissing her, she just confronted me and asked if I was in love with you. Then told me to not bother answering because it was obvious. She said she didn’t want to get in the middle of us and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come here to make amends immediately.” 
You grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to witness that scene.” 
“It was scary.” Jeno frowned. “She hit my shoulder really hard when I said I was in love with you and called me an idiot for going out with her. I think she was angry at herself too for being oblivious to our situationship. It was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on.” 
“Jimin actually said she had a great time with you. She told me it was nice.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. 
You placed a chaste kiss on Jeno’s mouth. “Hmm, I wonder how good the best date you’ve ever been on would be then.” 
He chased your lips and kissed you back deeply. Caressing your cheekbone with stars twinkling in his eyes, Jeno said, “I guess we’ll know when I take you out.”
“No way, are you officially asking me out on a date, Lee Jeno?” you asked, and let out a fake gasp. 
“Damn right I am,” he declared. “I don’t want the amusement park trip with our friends to be our first day out as a couple. Do you wanna grab some food tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the trampoline park before that.” 
You smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful. But,” you added. “No more flirting with restaurant staff for free food, or I’ll go ballistic on you.” 
Jeno laughed, and you thought it was the most beuatiful sound you had ever heard. His chest rumbled with the force of it, his eyes creasing to look like small crescent moons. Slipping his hand into yours, he squeezed once. 
“Wouldn’t even dream of it.” 
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note: THANK U FOR READING TILL THE END WHAT ??? loads of hugs and kisses :’)) also i know i said this before but posting after a rlly long time has lowkey made me anxious LOLL i think i could have done better with the fic esp the end bc it’s a little rushed. honestly speaking i am ready to move on to my next wip and i don’t wanna spend more time rewriting this one :(( i still love this piece though and i would definitely love to hear your thoughts amigos!! stay healthy and hydrated <33
thank you to mira for coming in clutch and helping me out with the plot when i was stuck + giving me her honest opinion! thank you to dori too for reading parts of this fic and giving me her opinion as well! i love you both :D
taglist: @notbeforelong​ @w3bqrl​ @rikiflowers​ @mochisnlix​ @allorysayshi​ @hiqhkey​ @angel-hyuckie​​ @j4kesworld​ @timetoten​ @vantxx95​ @sweetjaemss​​ @ahnneyong​ @jennaissantes @sunshine-skz​ @baekhyunstruly​ @ja4hyvn​ @ily-cuz-i​​ @kdyism​ @keemburley @n0hyuck @luvenshiti @donutswithjaminthemiddle @mosviqu @deobitiful @jeonnyread @pjofics @venusprada @matchahyuck @tbzussy @babyksworld @bockhyun @rbf-aceu @ablackbtsstan @tamakofever @naemakkuri @sadgirlroo @fariylixie0915 @pradagukkie @babyjenono @hibernatinghamster @jaemnationnn @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @carelessshootanonymous @nctzennikki09
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bratfiction · 6 months
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juuust thinking about simon x puppy girl 😵‍💫
listen… i am a simon x kitty girl truther. but i’m also a sucker for any hybrid!reader content so your wish is my command.
warnings -> 18+, f!reader, hybrid!reader, owner!soap [reader is in simon’s care], use of daddy, simon being simon.
pouting— that’s all you’ve been doing since you got dropped off. you’re staring at the door with glossy eyes, wide and hopeful. your throat is still raw from how hard you cried when johnny left, your arms feel empty as they’re no longer wrapped around his leg while he soothingly pets your soft, floppy ears. you cant believe he left you here!
left you with the big, burly meanie sitting on the couch…
“be a good girl,” it’s on repeat in your head. after johnny daddy made sure to crouch down and force your tear soaked face to be a single inch from his own, making sure you understand fully. he knows his girl isn’t a troublemaker, and he expects you to be on your bestest behavior when simon was kind enough to take you in for the weekend.
your heart aches in your chest all over again.
the voice behind you is gruff, forces you to remember how much you miss johnny’s. regardless your ears perk up at the sound; “are you ever gonna quit whimpering, pup?”
you look over your shoulder. your eyes find his own. they’re surprisingly warm, receptive— you suppose you have been sitting in front of the door for awhile, haven’t been the best guest for your daddy’s friend— “come on. ‘m not that scary.”
he’s right, he isn’t. especially not scary when he’s lifting you into his lap, humming when your body goes limp against his strong, warm chest… when his rough hands begin squeezing up your plush thighs, drawing sighs and soft sounds out of your mouth that prompt him to smirk.
johnny gave him a few pointers on how to calm you down. such a responsible owner, he is. he promised that you’d be pliant in seconds once you have simon’s big hand in your panties and your face stuffed in his neck.
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eiightysixbaby · 1 month
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begging for some more older! eddie maybe us out late at a bar let’s have him be jealous and mean😈😈
ohhhhh bestie I can do that 👀
18+ only!!! allusions to smut, mean eddie but he’s just worried about you, jealous eddie, mentions of reader drinking alcohol
Eddie spots you the second he enters the bar. The whole place is sleazy, shitty music blaring in his ears as he pushes through the inebriated crowds. He can feel his boots sticking to the floor as he walks and the air feels thick with the heat radiating off of these strangers’ bodies.
You’re leaning against the bar, your elbows propped up on the probably-filthy countertop as you chat with the bartender. You flip your hair slightly, shifting your weight where you stand and wobbling slightly in your high heels. Definitely tipsy.
Your skirt is obscenely short, and the problem Eddie has with this is that you’re wearing it now, in front of these other men, when you blew him off.
Unable to get ahold of you, he’d been an anxious mess at home. He knew you were going out with friends but you’d promised you’d be at his place by 10. It’s 12:15.
His jaw clenches when he doesn’t see a single one of your friends around, and the way the bartender keeps smiling at you makes him want to punch the guy’s teeth in. He stomps up behind you, a firm hand gripping your arm and turning you to face him. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him, the anger in his face. You’d fucked up, letting your phone die and not getting in touch with him. Staying out later than you’d said you would.
“I think you’re done here,” he says, and it’s not a question or a request or a joke. It’s a command, an order. You are done here, and we’re going the fuck home.
“Eddie-ee,” you hiccup, trying to keep some composure but failing with the alcohol in your system.
“You’re fucking wasted. Are you fucking kidding me, honey? It’s nearly half past midnight and I haven’t heard a thing from you.” His voice is firm, gruff as he tightens his grip on your arm.
“Is there a problem here?” the bartender asks, and Eddie seriously contemplates the consequences of beating this guy’s ass.
“Yeah, you. She’s not interested, pal. And she’s certainly not going home with you tonight,” he barks, yanking you away before the nuisance can respond.
“I’m sorry, Ed, my phone—”
“It died, right? Because you didn’t charge it even though I asked you to fucking charge it before you left,” he grits, and you look down at the floor in shame. He asked you one simple thing, and you neglected to do it. You won’t say it, but he has every right to be upset.
“I’m sorry,” you squeak, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was!? When I couldn’t get ahold of you? Knowing you were out drinking?” Eddie asks, guilt clawing at your insides.
He shoves open the door to the bar, ushering you out into the parking lot. You shiver at the chill in the air, far colder out than it had been when you’d arrived.
“Nothing bad happened, Ed, I’m fine,” you stress, but he’s having none of it.
“But it could have!” he barks, his voice stern and louder than he usually ever speaks to you. “Sure looked like you were having fun entertaining that bartender,” he scoffs.
You grimace, suddenly sobering up rapidly. You hadn’t been flirting with the guy, but it couldn’t have looked good from Eddie’s perspective. You do tend to get overly friendly when you drink, talkative and chipper.
“We were just talking, I had ordered a drink!” is what comes out of your mouth, for reasons unbeknownst to you. You’d meant to quell his suspicions, but instead you sound petulant and defensive.
“Just fucking talking,” he chuckles, albeit humorlessly. “Don’t think he thought you were just talking, sweets.”
He opens the passenger door of his vehicle, slamming it behind you after you get in. The way he forces the key into the ignition and peels out of the parking lot makes your stomach churn. You make it to his place in record timing, the entire ride silent. He doesn’t open the door this time, or help you out of the car. Your feet ache in your heels and your hands wring together as you walk to his front door.
“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say meekly, standing helplessly in his living room as he regards you out of his peripheral.
You see the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, and he brings one hand up to rub at his chin, the gray and brown scruff that litters the skin.
“You had me worried fucking sick,” he says, emphasizing this. He walks toward you until the backs of your thighs are hitting the arm of the couch. “I need you to follow rules, baby. All I asked was that you charge your phone,” his eyes don’t look away from yours for even a second, making sure you’re listening.
You nod, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. He smells like his cologne and a hint of tobacco, a scent so familiar and comforting to you. You wonder why you’d wanted to go out tonight at all, when he’s been here all along.
He steps even closer, resting a hand on your hip possessively. “And don’t even think about chatting up anymore bartenders,” he warns, his mouth hovering beside your ear. “Got it?” His voice is gruff, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I won’t,” you agree, knees nearly buckling when an index finger reaches out to stroke your cheek.
“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Now why don’t you take these clothes off and go get on the bed for me, pretty girl. Gotta remind you who you belong to.”
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