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reiderwriter · 9 months

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Margaritas and Mistakes pt. 2

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Genre: Smut, just filth really, nothing else. 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Summary: The morning after your night out you wake up and have to come face-to-face with the consequences of your actions. You find you quite enjoy those consequences though.

Warnings: Suggestive BDSM themes, soft!Dom Spencer (I'm a simple woman), daddy kink, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (F receiving), vaginally sex, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, degradation, name-calling, pet names (baby girl, princess etc.), unprotected sex (no creampie).

A/N: Here's the much anticipated part two for yesterday's fic. Thank you for being patient everyone, and sorry to tease you all by having this completely written before pt 1 was even published but sometimes the anticipation only makes it better lol... Hope you will forgive me 🙏 ALSO! I hit 300 followers on this account yesterday, and I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has supported my writing here thus far! I can't do anything to celebrate as I'm on holiday for the next few days but thank you so much ♥️

Check out Part One!

Requests are open, and in the meantime please check out my masterlist!

When you woke up; that morning, you could instantly feel something was different. Not wrong, just different.

It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, in fact the way the quilts laid on top of you kept you almost deliciously warm in your bed. It wasn’t the general mess of the night before either, as, surveying the room with one half cracked eye, you noted that all your discarded clothes seemed to be either neatly stacked away in the corner or perhaps left in the laundry hamper in your bathroom. The curtains were open, which you guess was somewhat of a change, but you honestly forgot to close them at least twice a week, so that wasn’t what it was.

You left out a quick yawn and decided whatever it was wasn’t as important as sleeping off the absolute killer headache that was currently burning a hole in the back of your head, a constant thumping that you wanted to do your best to avoid for now.

It was when you snuggled back into your sheets and attempted to turn over to find a new position that you realised exactly what it was that was wrong. You weren’t alone.

Cursing yourself for drinking so much you stayed as still as possible, as the man in bed next to you groaned in his sleep and seemed to pull you in tighter to his chest. You weren’t exactly complaining, but you couldn’t help the panic forming in your mind, as you absolutely had no recollection of bringing anyone home.

Scratch that, you had no recollection of getting home yourself at all.

Whoever it was, it was evident that he’d at least somewhat taken care of you. You couldn’t feel the mascara you’d worn last night glueing your eyelids shut, so obviously one of you had had the foresight to remove your makeup, and you honestly doubted it was you. The fact that you were wearing pyjamas, too, was probably a more positive sign. If you did have sex with the man, he’d most likely encouraged you to put clothes back on so you didn’t catch a chill in the night.

And boy did you hope that you had gotten lucky with whoever it was at your back last night. You couldn’t see his face obviously, with your back pressed up against his entire body, but you could feel him and he felt delicious.

He was long, and lean, but you could feel some strong muscles underneath as well. Even in sleep, he had a strong grip on your waist, the pressure of it pulling you back so your ass was directly in line with his crotch. You were almost tempted to shift slightly, to see if it’d give you a few more ideas about who your mystery man could be.

The best thing about him, thus far, however, was his scent. You knew that after drinking all of the alcohol you remembered ordering last night - and perhaps more that you didn’t remember - you absolutely didn’t smell that hot. And after a night of partying and dancing, too, you could almost feel the winter sweat sticking to your skin. Your bedmate, however, smelt absolutely fucking amazing. He had a musky, earthy scent, but it didn’t seem artificial. It felt warm and homely and all you wanted to do was turn around and nuzzle into his neck so you could breathe him indeeply.

But you had no fucking clue who this was, and you were coming up with blanks as to where you could’ve picked him up.

“Think, Y/N, think for once,” you whispered to yourself, chastising yourself for going shot for shot with Emily of all people.

You remembered being in Penelope’s apartment listening to Emily talk about her love of chardonnay, and you remembered the girls promising to find you a man that night. They’d obviously succeeded, but at the cost of your entire memory of the situation.

You thought a little harder again, back to sitting at the table and your stupid little game of fuck, marry, kill where you’d amitted your growing attraction to your office’s resident genius, and then downing a probably near fatal amount of shots to inspire your friends to forget they heard anything, and then… And then it all goes blank.

So you had no clues as to who your mystery man could be, and you didn’t want to risk waking him just to find out. In a last ditch effort, you cracked your eyes open again and reached out for your phone, sitting prettily on your nightstand, plugged in and charging. Whoever this man was, he was a saint, because if you couldn’t remember getting through the door, you definitely didn’t put your own phone on charge.

Trying not to stretch too much, you grabbed the phone and bought it as close to you as possible, shielding your bedmate from the light coming out of it. You immediately opened the messages, and your stomach dropped at what was waiting for you there.

Emily: I TOLF U I WAS A GR8 WING WOMAN!!1! When you two make baby ggeniuses, dont say I dind’t tell you so.

Penelope: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Which is admittedly not a lot, but still!!!

JJ: Remember to take advil in the morning, I’m sure Reid will remind you as well, but you drank a lot tonight, and you never know when we’re going to get called in 🙂

The messages didn’t give you much of the context you needed, especially the ones sent by Penelope and Emily, but there was enough there to work out that you had majorly fucked up. And the sound of his groans from next to your ear told you that you only had around thirty seconds before your theory was tested and your mystery man woke up.

“Mornin’” came the voice from behind you, and if it were possible your heart started beating even faster. It was him.

“Reid! Good morning!” You tried to keep the curiosity and anxiety out of your voice, as you finally turned over to look at him. His sleepy face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. His hair fell in small waves into his face and you had to stop yourself from brushing it behind his ear for him. There was a five o’clock shadow forming on his face that you’d never seen before and the scruff really suited him. His most distracting feature, however, was his lack of shirt. And the many small love bites that were now forming on his neck.

“How’s your head this morning? I was going to try to get you to take something for it last night, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh my head? It’s fine, totally fine. Nothing to worry about there. Totally not pounding.” You groan and he cracks a smile at your attempt to downplay your self-injury. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer somehow, and you almost panic, ready to place your hands on his chest and push him away, but you’re not quite ready to admit that you don’t remember exactly what you did or didn’t do the night before so instead you push your hands up to his neck and play with his hair.

“Are you going to ask or do you remember?” He smirks down at you, rubbing small comforting circles into your back. You let out a small sigh, a goodbye to those few blissfully peaceful moments.

“Ask what? Ask if I remember climbing into bed with my coworker and leaving some quite pretty marks on his neck or ask if I actually got further than my fantasies have in the last month?” You trace your hand down his neck, stopping at a rather red patch where you can still see some trace of your lipstick from the night before.

“Ask whether or not I’m going to be fair and tell you what actually happened, or keep you in the dark and let your imagination keep running wild.” He lifts his body up, and rests on his side, his arm propping his head up.

You make a sound of protest and attempt to follow his movement but his free hand holds your hips down with a soft pressure, holding you there less with strength and more with the weight of your own curiosity at whatever it is his body is suggesting.

“You begged me last night you know,” he starts, leaning down and whispering it directly into your ear. “To stay. To fuck you like a desperate little whore.” Your legs pushed together now, a sorry attempt to curb the growing need pooling between them, but he didn’t let up.

“You pushed me down on the bed when I didn’t do what you wanted, like a little brat. So drunk out of your mind that I couldn’t touch you, but begging for it like you would die if I didn’t hold you down and let you scream my name.” The hand on your hip moved up and under your pajama shirt, a rather flimsy thing that did nothing to stop his oncoming conquest of your body.

“You made me promise something, you know?” He says just as his hand reaches one of your nipples. He pinches it, hard, as you throw open your mouth in a near silent gasp. Your hips buck involuntarily, and suddenly one of his legs is between yours, pinning you down again so you can’t move as he keeps his attention on your chest.

“Made me promise I would stay and not let you forget. Promise that, when you woke up in the morning, I’d fill you in on everything you did, everything you asked for.” He keeps his voice as low as a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck, the contact sending a shiver down your spine, arching your back and pushing your breasts further into his hand.

“S-Spencer-” you beg with just that one word for more. But he stills his hand and moves it out from under your top.

“But if you remember, then we’re finished here right. I can go?” He looks down at you, pouting now and you hesitate for a second before answering him.

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything, so please…” you don’t quite know what you’re begging for at that point, but if you’d filled him in on any of the jucier details of your fantasies as of late, then you were in for a very fun morning.

He shifted his weight again, this time pushing your hips together, and holding his chest up with his arms stacked on either side of your head, you looked up at him again as one of his hands came down and encouraged your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing him to push even more of his weight down into you.

His head moved back to your ear as he began rocking his hips tantalisingly slowly into yours, dry humping into you.

“At first, you didn’t even know it was me. Just fell back into whatever body you thought would pay you the most attention. Rocked yourself back into me on the dancefloor, right where anyone else could see what a little whore you were being.” Despite the layers of clothing that separated you and the torturious pace, you felt your arousal growing by the second as you listened to him recounting the events of the prior night.

“And even when you realised it was me you didn’t fucking stop. Kept teasing me and playing with me in public, in front of our friends.” He growled a little bit then, obviously still angry about your actions the night before. You were bucking your hips up to match his movements now, teetering close to the edge of an orgasm. He hadn’t even really touched you yet, and you were like putty in his hand, ready to be molded into whatever shape he wanted you in.

“I drove you home, kept my hands off you, I was perfectly ready to let you forget the entire thing, but you couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you.” His hand was on your ass now, encouraging you to keep up your pace and deepening the contact between the two of you. You could feel his entire length pressed into you, and you wanted it inside you.

“Told me you wanted me to slam you against a wall and finger-fuck you, wanted to be my cheap little whore, wanted me to use you,” he groaned into your ear and bit down on your neck a second later, and you moaned, the pain and pleasure mixing together deliciously.

And then he stopped, pulled away and rolled off of you, and you cried out at the loss of contact when you were so close to your release.

“What is it, baby? You want more?” He smirked from his new position, sat up on the opposite side of the bed, just far enough out of reach that you had to crawl over to him.

And so you did. So desperate for the man, you climbed into his lap, and begged him for any reciprocation with your moans as you began grinding down on his leg again.

“Does my little slut want to cum?” He asked, his hands placed firmly and flat on the bed sheets either side of him, leaning back softly to watch your attempts to entice him into touching you again.

“Get off and strip down to your panties,” he demanded, and you happily complied, not caring where the offending pieces of clothing landed before jumping back into his lap. Apart from his lack of shirt, he was still in all of his clothing from the night before, a pair of loose sweatpants and boxers, and you relished the feeling of the fabric against your legs as you wrapped your legs back around him.

“I want you to use my leg to get yourself off baby, do you think you can do that?” He asked you, and you immediately nodded your head, desperate to start, but his hands on your hips stopped you.

“Use your words baby, answer me nicely.”

“Yes, fuck, yes I want to do that, please,” you whimper and he loosens his grip a little bit.

“Yes, daddy,” he demands and your eyes shoot up to his. Seeing that he is completely serious you feel yourself only growing more aroused as you stutter out another reply.

“Yes, please daddy.” He smiles at you again now and lets go of you completely, resting his hands on the bed again. Your hands come up to his shoulders and you begin your movements. You push your chest directly against his, desperate for some of your bare skin to be met with his, your aching nipples rubbing up against the plains of his chest in a near perfect way. You grind down into his thigh like its a lifeline, your every attempt to set an even tempo foiled by your absolute desperation to reach your climax.

He keeps talking to you throughout, mixing the sweetest of affirmations with the most disgusting insults, both driving you more and more crazy as the minutes tick by.

“Look at this disgusting little puddle my little girl has left on my pants. You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you my sweet little whore?” You moan out a reply, but he wants your words again. Delivering a painful slap to your ass he asks again, and this time you eke out a reply.

“Yes, daddy, I’m a nasty little whore, I want you so badly, daddy.” You whimper, the words and the shock of the slap bringing you ever-closer to your first release. Your arms are wrapped around his back now, scratching and marking him as if to claim territory, each one of his sharp-intakes at the pain driving you closer and closer until you finally feel yourself fall off the edge.

“So good for me baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple as you collapse into his arms, breathless from all of your hard work.

“I didn’t even have to touch you, and look at you. Looking like a fucked out whore, just for me baby girl," he whispered into your ear as he lifted you up, gently laying you back down on the bed.

“You think you can still do some more, baby?” He asked, and you nodded. This time it was enough for him, because he instantly shed the rest of his clothes and moved between your legs.

“You look so beautiful like this, baby. Gonna take care of you okay, just relax,” he kissed the words into your neck and started trailing kisses the entire way down your bosy. He paused briefly to show your breasts some attention, swirling his tongue around one nipple while he teased, pinched and pulled the other one, eventually switching to give them equal love.

But he didn’t stop at your breasts, pressing kisses down the length of your stomach before reaching your panties again. He looked up at you from his position before pulling them down your leg, making sure that your entire attention was devoted to him. He didn’t have to try hard, as your thoughts had been filled with him ever since he’d woken that morning, and you found you were quite content for it to stay that way forever.

He lifted your hips and slipped the offending piece of fabric down your legs. You shivered at the loss of contact at first, the sodden lace having been stuck to you after your desperate movements earlier. You were bare for all of five seconds before he dove into you, nudging your clit with his nose while he pressed kitten licks against your slit. You moaned out, not caring about controlling your volume, and didn’t stop as he continued licking and kissing like he was a man starved.

His tongue eventually made its way up to your clit and that’s when you lost it, bucking your hips wildly up into his mouth in a desperate attempt to use his face to get yourself off, but one of his large hands pinned you down again. He didn’t let up, rolling your clit around his tongue, bringing his other hand up to press a finger into you, beginning to pump in and out.

You didn’t even feel the build up this time, just closed your eyes as your hips jerked up once, twice into his face, not even a breath escaping your lips for what felt like an eternity as he let you ride through your second orgasm. He didn’t stop, but he removed his mouth from your centre, his fingers still pumping into you as you began twitching underneath him.

“Good girl, so fucking good for me. You’ve got one more left, right baby? One more left to give me, hmm?” He asked, but you couldn’t answer anymore, just nodding your head as best you could and bucking into his hands like a woman gone mad.

“Perfect baby, open your legs wide for me, okay?” His voice was gentle now as he gave his cock a few pumps, removing his fingers and flipping you onto your knees, putting you in the perfect position for him.

“You have to tell me if you want me to stop, okay princess? Tell me if it’s too much and we can end this right here,” he gently pulled the hair away from your face and pressed a final kiss to the back of your neck, finally lining his cock up with your glistening hole.

Then he’s finally pushed into you, and you could've sworn you saw stars. He fully sheathed himself inside of you and didn't move for a minute, choosing instead to press small kisses against your neck and back whilst you adjusted to his considerable length. He didn’t have to wait long though, as you could feel yourself practically dripping around him, making even more of a mess of your sheets.

He picks up a steady pace, pulling out halfway and then snapping his hips back into you with such force you’re grabbing your pillows with a vice grip. You tried to push your head back down into the pillow to soften your moans as well, but he grabbed you by your hair, wrapping it around his wrist, using his new leverage to pull you back onto his dick with each stroke.

“Wanna hear you baby girl, don’t fucking hold back,” he grunted into your ear, the new angle of his hips hitting that deep spot within you that had you flooding the sheets almost instantly, pushing out wave after wave of cum as you moan his name like an animal driven mad.

“That’s right baby girl, fucking cum around my cock, get it nice and wet,” he continues pounding into you, pulling out more and more of his length each time to hit deeper and deeper each time he returns to you. Your legs were practically shaking then at the overstimulation, your tongue hanging out of your head as you failed to form any coherent thought except “yes.”

His hips start faltering quickly and you knew he was close. A few more snaps of his hips and he pulled out of you completely with a small curse, shooting his load up your back as he released his hold on your hair gently. He collapsed on top of you, his arms around you as he kissed his way up your spine.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, the only sound that of your ragged breaths as you both attempted to catch your breath. After a few minutes he pulled away, and you heard him retreat to the bathroom. He came back swiftly with a washcloth and cleaned the two of you up, wiping his cum from your back and chest and doing his best to clean up your cunt without overstimulating you even more.

“Baby, we have to go to the bathroom now, you need to pee,” he gently turns you over and you whimper at the movement. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and you push yourself up to a sitting position next to him, unhappy that he’s being so responsible now after possibly ruining you for other men forever.

“You’re going to have to carry me, you know,” you grumble, resting your head against his shoulder. “My legs are still shaking like I’ve just walked a thousand miles with no rest.”

He chuckles at that and wrapped your legs around him, picking you up swiftly. He didn’t move immediately, just content to have you in his arms for a few seconds. You looked down into his eyes and you felt it too. Like you’d never want to be anywhere else but right here, in his arms. You pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to his lips and you felt his smile as he returned it.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s not the first time I’ve had to force you into the bathroom and I doubt it will be the last,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. And in that moment you realise that he has you for life.

--X--

🏷️: @ihavenotitlesblog @gibbsgirl7 @beefyboisbeefybongos @bluecandycake @piecsesrising @dim-i-try @simp4f1 @marylovesevanpeters @daddy-dotcom @alondralolll @thearsonistrat @eddiemunsonssweetoltatties

(I know some of you didn't ask to be tagged but you asked for a pt. 2 so thought it couldn't hurt, lmk if you want to be untagged!)

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #maturereiding #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fandom

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taevbears · 6 months

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Movie Night

When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.

⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.

The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.

The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.

Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.

You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.

“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.

“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.

But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.

Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.

Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.

Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”

You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”

You find yourself smiling back at him.

“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.

Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.

In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.

Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.

But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.

Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”

You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.

“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”

When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.

His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.

The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.

The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.

Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.

And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”

On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.

As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.

Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.

Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.

“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”

It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.

“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.

“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”

Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.

But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.

You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.

To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.

What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.

The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.

And in return, you told him that you loved him.

When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.

Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.

Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.

Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.

Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.

What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.

You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.

But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.

It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.

And from there, everything was history.

With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.

With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.

Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”

“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.

“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.

“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.

You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.

Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.

“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.

The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”

“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”

“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.

This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.

“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it.

The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.

“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.

Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”

Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”

He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.

“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.

From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.

Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.

Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.

“Tan!”

You know that voice. How could you not?

That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.

Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.

“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”

“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.

Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”

“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung.

It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.

“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”

“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”

His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.

“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.

“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”

You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.

You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you.

Why now?

What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?

“I don’t like that guy.”

Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.

“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”

The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.

Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.

But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.

“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”

“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.

Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths.

“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.

Silence follows the tension.

Then, you inquire, “Again?”

The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.

Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.

“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.

“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”

As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer.

He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.

This Jungkook scares you.

Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.

“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.

You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.

“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.

It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.

After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.

The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail.

You don’t want to talk to him.

At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain.

You don’t want to see him.

Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.

“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.

The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.

Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”

You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.

And you’re starting to see what he meant.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”

“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”

So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.

Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”

“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.

“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”

Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”

“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Hey. It’s Jungkook.

You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.

Are we breaking up?

You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.

You scared me, Kook.

His response is immediate.

I thought you weren’t scared of anything.

You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.

Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.

Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.

I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.

You think about it.

I miss you. Bam misses you too.

Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.

Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.

But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.

Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.

Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.

You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films.

As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.

His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.

“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.

“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.

But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”

He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.

This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.

Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.

“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.

The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek.

A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.

One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.

Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.

But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.

Your smile fades as the next scene shows.

The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.

You remember that night, but…

“Jungkook. When did you record this?”

You had no idea he was filming you then.

You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.

“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—”

You feel so sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”

But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.

The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.

It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.

The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.

How long has Jungkook known about you?

How long has he been targeting you?

It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?”

It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.

You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.

More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face.

It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds.

The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”

He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”

You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.

And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.

“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”

“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”

The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.

It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.

The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

#movie night os #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #bts horror #jungkook horror #halloween 2023 #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic

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chlorinecake · 6 days

Note

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung smut

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endlessthxxghts · 1 month

Text

Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form.

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes.

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it.

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand.

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it.

“Din?” you called out softly.

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down.

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you.

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully.

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth.

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat.

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine.

Oh, he’s starting to break, already?

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily.

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull.

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face.

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment.

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper.

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you.

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt.

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless.

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop.

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in.

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him.

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly.

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive.

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch.

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it.

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs.

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants.

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots.

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway.

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice.

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp.

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing.

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations.

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly.

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.”

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight.

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more.

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter.

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose.

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay.

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now.

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.”

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move.

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.”

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?”

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter.

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you.

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish.

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you.

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer.

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers.

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him.

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far.

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all.

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way.

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces.

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other.

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space.

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh.

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself.

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax.

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves.

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess.

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck.

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down.

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt.

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher.

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself.

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed.

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

697 notes · View notes

starsinmylatte · 2 months

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Be Our Girl?

If you saw Tumblr immediately flag this, no, you didn't.

This is the first request I received as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event. There are still slots open, so please click the link for more info!

Thank you to @enchantedsylveon for their support and the wonderful request 💜. I went way over the word count because I got possessed by the spirit of horny. Forgive me 😅

Pairing: Geto x Gojo x afab!reader (aka SatoSugu x afab!reader) Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 6.8k Request: Morally grey, obsessive pleasure doms Gojo and Geto take care of their girl while she's on her period.

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

A/N: This is my first time writing a threesome AND my first time writing for both of these characters....... So, Leeeeeroy Jenkins!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (princess, baby, etc), references to mental health issues, multiple sex positions, dacryphilia, cursing, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, cum eating, banter during sex, breeding kink, cervix fucking, deepthroating, praise and light degradation, y'all get the gist this is some filth (affectionate)

It was early one morning, far too early for any sane person to be awake as you sat on a couch, trapped between your two long-time friends. On one end of the couch, Satoru Gojo pouted and stared out the nearby window, nursing a can of soda like it was hard liquor. Geto Suguru occupied the other end, glaring at the wall like he wanted to burn a hole through it. He was doing his damnedest to avoid paying his best friend any attention as you sat between the two men, grumbling under your breath. You were unlucky enough to be quite literally in the middle of their dispute.

The two young men had been fighting so much recently, and it had honestly hurt your heart to see. Their bickering had affected their efforts in school, nearly destroyed both of their mental health, and strained their relationship to a breaking point. Shoko had advised you to leave it alone, saying the boys needed to figure it out on their own or just fuck already, but as their other best friend, you just couldn’t take much more of it. Especially when Satoru made a habit of coming over at three A.M. to complain about Suguru.

Funnily enough, that was precisely what had led to the current situation. Satoru had shown up, knocked so hard that he nearly broke your door down in the process, and shoved his way inside your apartment despite your many protests.

Now, there were multiple reasons why his visit was horribly timed. The first would’ve been immediately evident if the strongest sorcerer wasn’t so preoccupied. You were wincing in pain when you answered the door, clutching a hot water bottle to your lower stomach, and Gojo had been too oblivious to notice. He simply brushed past you, already ranting as he headed directly for your plush couch.

“‘Toru, wait-“

“That emo bastard can’t get it through his thick skull that we’re supposed to be friends. He-” Satoru paused mid-rant as the emo bastard in question sat up on your couch, groaning. Suguru had been fast asleep until now, and the raven-haired man looked pissed that he had been woken up.

The deep circles under Suguru’s eyes had only grown more exaggerated in the past few days, and his long, beautiful raven hair was a tangled mess. You could see the weariness he carried creep under his skin more and more, and it honestly terrified you. Suguru had confided in you that he could barely sleep anymore, and like the good friend you were, you offered for him to sleep on your couch, hoping the proximity to a close friend would help ease his mind.

“You’d better be talking about someone else,” Suguru hissed at Gojo, dark eyes flashing with anger as you slammed the heel of your hand against your head.

“I can already feel another migraine coming,” you muttered under your breath. “‘Satoru, as I was trying to say, you may want to come back later because I. already. have. company.”

You punctuated your words with brief pauses, not even bothering to try and hide the annoyance in your tone. Gojo pursed his lips dramatically, rolling his eyes. He immediately turned on his heel to leave, but you beat him to the door. “Oh, no. You didn’t listen to me, so you get to stay. I am not in the mood for this to be a revolving door today.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but one look from you silenced him. You motioned for Geto to scoot over on the couch, and the sleep-deprived man shot you an incredulous look as Gojo pilfered a soda from your fridge.

Nearly thirty minutes of awkward silence had passed between the three of you on the couch before you’d finally had enough. You had been trying to be a good, patient friend, but this morning was the absolute last straw. For half of the previous night, you’d been curled up in a ball with the most abysmal cramps, completely unable to sleep. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you had drifted off… only to be woken up by Gojo thirty minutes later. Your cramps were still coming in awful waves, and no medication was helping. You simply wanted to melt into the floor, but you were being forced to babysit two of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers who had ever lived while they behaved like petulant children.

A particularly harsh cramp had you gritting your teeth, barely able to speak as you forced two words past your lips. “That’s enough.”

Both of your companions’ heads whipped around, and you felt the weight of two completely different gazes. One was ice-cold, and the second felt like scorched earth; they were polar opposites, but each held the same intense gravity.

“The two of you are going to talk this out. This all passed ridiculous a long time ago.” You continued, gesturing around dramatically with one hand, holding up the other to silence the noises of protest that left both men. Your throat felt dry and raw with anger. All of the frustration and pain in your body had coalesced into a single, white-hot ball of emotion, which was currently clawing its way out of your throat with a vengeance.

“I’m not finished. Geto Suguru, I want you to feel better, but you have to open up to us. If you keep all your emotions bottled up, you’re going to go insane one day and start a cult or something.”

Geto looked down at his folded hands, clearly a bit stunned by your outburst. Normally, something like this would’ve never happened. You were always such a caring, sweet girl, and you had never lost your temper in front of either man. Both Gojo and Geto instantly knew that they’d fucked up for you to be this viscerally angry and use their full names at the same time. You had never called them anything other than their first names for the many years you’d been friends.

“And you, Gojo Satoru, need to calm down and try to understand your best friend more. The two of you need to actually talk. You’ve just expected Suguru to come to you for help all this time, but you could also reach out first.” Gojo had the decency to blush in embarrassment, setting his soda can down on a coaster while you scolded him.

You stood rather abruptly, intending to leave the two men to sulk while you crawled back into your warm bed, but you forgot about one very important thing in your addled state. The hot water bottle was still on your lap, and it hit the floor with a loud clang the second you stood. Water splashed everywhere, finally catching the attention of both men. Gojo’s icy gaze met Geto’s earthen one as the full situation finally clicked in their heads, and they shared a look that clearly read “oh shit.”

The loss of the water bottle’s comforting warmth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fat, hot tears started to roll down your cheeks as you felt your uterus violently contract again. You doubled over, and both men stood, rushing to your side as you cried out in pain, fully sobbing.

“You’re making all of us worry, especially me. I just can’t keep listening to my two best friends complain about each other instead of talking through their problems, and I feel horrible right now, and I just-”

Geto ran a comforting hand down your back. “Shit. Shhh… We’re sorry for making you worry. Right, Satoru?”

Gojo sighed as the raven-haired man stared at him pointedly. “He’s right, we’re very sorry. C’mere, let’s get you back into bed.”

He held his arms out as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. With one swift motion, Gojo scooped you up in his arms as Suguru quickly towled up the water on the floor. Somewhere deep in your mind, you realized that you could feel Satoru’s warm skin against yours; he had turned off Infinity for you. He cradled you for a few precious minutes, purring soft reassurances against your ear that had you relaxing into his arms.

“S’ alright. I’ve got you.”

Suguru rolled his eyes and finished cleaning in almost record time. He pushed his friend toward your room, entering first to scoop your sheets aside and plug in your big heating pad. Gojo laid you down on the soft mattress, and you immediately snuggled up underneath the sheets. Another sharp stab of pain made you wince, and the two men shared another pointed look and a collective sigh, finding enough truce in their argument to climb into the bed on either side of you.

Geto passed the heating pad to Gojo, who gently placed it against your lower stomach before pulling you against his chest. You clung to him happily, nuzzling into his warmth. However, this new position also made you oblivious to the way Geto’s eyes flashed in frustration at the sight.

The raven-haired man pulled your back against his chest in retaliation, splaying a possessive hand over your hip as Gojo smirked at him. You murmured in appreciation, unconsciously shifting to lay against them equally as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep. Geto and Gojo locked eyes and finally relaxed, seemingly arriving at some unspoken agreement. They joined you in a deep, comfortable sleep, and it was by far the best sleep any of you had gotten in months.

The three of you only grew closer after that night. It had only taken a week for Gojo and Geto to patch up their relationship, and they emerged with a stronger bond than before. When Shoko asked about the change, the boys cheerfully credited your period-induced breakdown as the catalyst that led them to reconcile. Gojo would grin cheekily, the action only mirrored by his raven-haired counterpart’s self-satisfied smirk as the two repeated the very same answer to everyone else who asked. They also pointedly ignored how you blushed and stammered at them, “Please, stop telling everyone about that.”

“No can do, sweetheart.” Satoru winked at you over the rim of his dark glasses before sighing dramatically, poking at your soft, pouting cheeks, “Besides, where would we be without you? You put us in our place, so you deserve all the credit.”

Geto chuckled, a darkly amused glint in his eyes as he placed his large hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re right. We both need our girl to keep us straight.”

–

Time flew by as the three of you graduated and rejoined Tokyo Jujutsu High as young teachers. Life was… interesting; some things had changed for you, but many things still stayed the same. For one thing, you, Satoru, and Suguru were still incredibly close. Even though there were always missions to complete, students to educate, and monsters to kill, the three of you made time to spend together.

Quite often, your “quality time” with the two men was spent in the form of a massive movie night at your apartment. There had been many discussions about moving it to Gojo’s ritzy new place, but the routine was already too ingrained in the three of you. So, every other weekend, you all piled on top of your plush sofa to watch cheesy movies, cycling through picks from every genre imaginable until everyone fell asleep.

However, as much as you enjoyed the tradition, you had almost canceled tonight’s marathon. The worst part of your period was supposed to be over by now, but the heavy cramping hadn’t let up at all.

“Those two better be glad I love them so much,” you muttered, blushing slightly as you caught your accidental choice of words.

Love? No, I don’t love those two. We’re just friends. Really good friends.

Thoughts continued to whirl around your head as you hurriedly tidied up your living room and small kitchen, preparing everything for the night. No, you most definitely weren’t in love with both of your best friends at the same time. You were so good at ignoring how the two men had only grown more handsome and attentive to you since their big argument, and you definitely never imagined them taking you to bed….

By the time you had nearly convinced yourself that denial was just a river in Egypt, there was a cheerful knock at the door. The knock lasted for all of two seconds before Satoru pushed it open, grinning widely. The white-haired man still wore his blindfold but had traded his usual all-black uniform for a pair of suspiciously designer-looking grey sweatpants and a soft, black t-shirt.

“I brought treats!” He chimed, setting his armful of baked goods and sweets on the counter.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Toru, did you rob a small bakery? You know you’re the only one who will eat most of it.”

He noticed how you greedily eyed a bar of dark chocolate, snatching it up and waving it at you teasingly, “Oh, so you want me to take it back, then?”

You pouted, trying to reach for the bar as Satoru weaponized his height against you. He held the chocolate just out of reach, and you jumped, almost brushing the very edge of the wrapper. You landed awkwardly, stumbling backward into something- no, someone- very solid. A rich, amused chuckle tickled your ear as Suguru caught you, reaching up to pluck the bar from Gojo’s hand as his hand cupped your hip.

“Having fun without me, already?”

“‘Toru’s being mean,” you complained as Suguru passed the sweet to you with a snide grin directed at the other man.

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, removing his blindfold to wink at you. “I’ve wounded our princess so she can have the first movie pick tonight.

Your heart twisted and fluttered in your chest at the use of that pet name and the sight of his gorgeous cerulean eyes, but you shoved that feeling aside as quickly as it appeared.

“I can forgive you… this time.”

“And you can make the first batch of popcorn,” Suguru added, his signature sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll make sure to burn yours,” Gojo grumbled in response, heading for the kitchen as Suguru herded you toward the couch.

You plopped down onto the middle of the couch, and Geto settled to your left, promptly handing you the chunky knit blanket you favored. Funnily enough, the arrangement the three of you sat in was as much of a tradition as the movie night itself; you were always in the middle of the two men. The three of you were always sandwiched together, but that didn’t make you flustered. Jujutsu sorcery took such a high mental toll that you had long figured any cuddling was strictly platonic.

Geto looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you almost sighed in happiness as you caught the comforting scent of sandalwood soap and incense that always surrounded him. You tipped your head against his shoulder, smiling contentedly and nibbling into the chocolate bar as the two of you flipped through movies, looking for the perfect one. Gojo cursed loudly in the other room, and you giggled at the loud banging coming from the stove.

A few hours later, you finally got to Geto’s pick: a cheesy B-grade horror movie. Bags of candy and popcorn lay strewn over the coffee table as the three of you watched the final girl run from yet another masked killer. You had excused yourself to the bathroom half an hour ago to take some medicine and change into a fresh pad, but your cramps stubbornly refused to give up. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the night, so you suffered in silence, silently wincing in pain every few minutes.

Geto and Gojo shared a look as they felt your body tense for the umpteenth time, and the raven-haired man clicked pause on the remote while his counterpart rubbed tiny circles over the small of your back.

“What is it?” Suguru asked, his voice and expression both filled with concern.

“Nothing, really. I’m fine.” You tried to reassure both men, but they gazed at you, unimpressed and clearly not buying your story.

“We know you well enough to know that’s not true.” Gojo gazed at you, suddenly more serious than he’d been all night. Geto squeezed your shoulder gently, and both men scooted even closer to you, clearly unwilling to let it go.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I’m on my period, and my cramps are really bad right now. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want tonight to end yet, even though I don’t feel well.”

Geto’s gaze softened, and Gojo laughed quietly, “You know we couldn’t leave our girl when she’s in pain.”

Your cheeks flushed hotly at Satoru’s words.

“You know I’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep calling me that.”

The words left your lips before you could even think about what you were saying; the temperature in the room instantly felt ten degrees colder. Suguru’s deep, coffee-colored gaze narrowed instantly, and Gojo tipped his head down to look you in the eyes, his pale irises shining almost eerily in the dim light.

“Do you not… want to be our girl?” Suguru leaned down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his voice a velvet purr that made you shudder. You felt both men hold you tighter, their grip infinitely more possessive; Geto nipped at the shell of your ear lightly, drawing a small moan out of you.

“Sugu…. I….. mmmmph..”

Gojo traced a finger underneath your chin, tilting your eyes to meet his calm gaze. The new angle of your neck gave Geto the perfect angle to kiss up and down the column of your neck, which he promptly took advantage of, ghosting his lips across the sensitive skin. You shuddered, whimpering slightly as Satoru held your face still in one of his large, calloused hands.

“He asked you a question, baby,” Satoru crooned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his unfairly perfect lips.

Embarrassment mixed with growing lust dusted your cheeks, and your eyelashes fluttered in sync with every sinful drag of Geto’s lips against your skin. Your head was growing fuzzy, yet your body felt light as a feather as you relaxed between the two large men. Any thought of your previous pain had faded away in a sea of bliss and disbelief until another vicious cramp tore through your abdomen. You jolted upright, worry flashing in your eyes. The two men paused immediately, backing off to let you speak.

“Even if I do want this…. We can’t right now. I’m….” You trailed off in embarrassment, staring down at the hem of your shirt.

“Do you think so little of us, sweetheart? You think we’re frightened by a little blood? Geto crooned, and Gojo grinned in response, gasping in mock indignation.

You shook your head slightly, stammering in protest. “I-I don’t think you’re afraid of it, just that ‘s gross.”

Gojo caressed your cheek with his thumb, and Geto nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck in reassurance. “Nothing about you could ever be gross; what you’re going through is the most natural thing in the world.” The raven-haired man murmured.

“And b-both of you want me?” You responded in a daze.

“Yeah. It’s been that way for years,” Satoru smiled, unashamedly staring at the swell of your slightly parted lips as you gasped in response.

“It’s been the three of us for our entire lives, and you kept it that way. I don’t see why it should ever change,” Geto added with a low note of amusement. He caressed your waist, and another shudder ran down your spine. “You’ve been ours for years… we’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. Let us take care of you, baby. You’ve done so much for us.”

Every nerve ending of your body crackled like a live wire as the two men waited with bated breath for your response. Your mind whirled as you tried to string together an actual sentence. Finally, you were able to moan a single word. “Please…”

The effect it had on the two men was instantaneous. Suguru groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck and pulling you back into his lap. Your back hit his broad, muscular chest, and you melted against him instantly.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long we’ve waited for this…. How many men we’ve chased off because they didn’t deserve you.” Satoru mumbled, surging forward to claim your lips with his own, pinning you against the other man. The kiss started out soft but quickly grew more insistent as you moaned and whimpered every time Suguru grazed your decolletage with his teeth. He started to pull the neck of your shirt aside for better access to more skin, and you writhed in his arms as he left bruises in the wake of his lips.

At any other time, you would’ve questioned Satoru’s confession, but right now, you felt hot, almost delirious with budding desire, as he reached down to trail his fingers over your clothed pussy. He rubbed directly over your little clit, but the pleasure you craved was muted by the thick added layer of your pad, and you whined in protest. “‘Toru, need you s’badly.”

“You hear that? Our princess needs you, Satoru.” Geto purred as the other man continued tracing the outline of your pussy.

You rocked your hips against his fingers, desperate to feel more, but you only succeeded in teasing Suguru as you accidentally rocked your ass directly against his rapidly growing erection.

He hissed loudly, trailing one of his hands under your shirt to cup your bare waist. Gojo chuckled at the sight of his best friend’s suffering, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away with an audible pop. “Careful now, or you’re gonna make it hard for him to last.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Suguru groaned in response, trailing his hand up to paw at your breast. You whined as he lightly pinched and rolled a nipple between his clever fingers, and the raven-haired man chuckled roughly, “Look at how dirty our girl is, not even wearing a bra. She’s so damn sensitive.”

Your pussy throbbed at his words as Gojo leaned back, kneeling on the couch to watch the show you and Geto were putting on in front of him. Your gaze was half-lidded and hazy with lust, but you could still clearly see the way the muscles of his arm flexed as he reached down to palm his own erection. It stood proud, visibly tenting the dark grey sweatpants he wore, and your mouth watered at the mere outline of his dick. It looked so long and thick, and you could only imagine the bliss of it stuffing you and dragging against your deepest, most sensitive parts.

He brushed a strand of white hair off his face, looking at you with another cocky smirk as he addressed the other man. “Oi, help me out here, Suguru. I seem to remember something about cramps… I think they’re improved by medicine, a heating pad, or something else. Now, what could that be?”

Gojo paused for a clear, dramatic effect, his wolfish grin only growing wider as your breath caught in your throat. You were so distracted that you didn’t even realize Geto’s lips had trailed back up to your ear as he responded in a dulcet whisper, “I think the answer might be ‘they’re improved by orgasms.’ What do you think, pretty?”

“Yes, god yes,” you begged, rubbing your thighs together. The dull ache of your period had faded away into the haze of lust, but your pussy throbbed, begging to be filled.

Satoru winked at you, leaving the couch and walking into your bedroom for a moment. You whimpered as he left, and Geto chuckled again at your reaction, giving your nipple another rough pinch. “There’s no god here, baby, just us. But we’re gonna do you so good… Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

You lay against his chest as Suguru pushed your shirt all the way up, tucking the hem between your teeth to give himself full, unimpeded access to your chest. He maneuvered the two of you around slightly, leaving you in his lap but allowing both of your legs to dangle off the edge of the couch. “Let’s give Satoru something to look at when he comes back, hmm? Bet he’d love to see these perfect tits.”

He took each of your breasts into his warm hands, alternating between kneading the soft, supple flesh and pinching your aching nipples. You could only moan softly through the fabric of the shirt stuffed in your mouth as Geto took you higher and higher into bliss with every movement.

Gojo walked back in not a minute later, holding a few fluffy, black towels. His beautiful eyes widened at the perfectly pornographic scene spread out in front of him, and he cursed under his breath, rushing back to the couch as Geto smirked at his best friend’s needy expression.

“Careful, or he’s not gonna last long,” he teased, tugging off your shirt as he parodied Gojo’s earlier sentiment.

The white-haired man huffed and shook his head sarcastically, but you certainly didn’t miss the way he threw his own shirt off and knelt between your legs as quickly as he could. His eyes were shining with ravenous desire, and your pussy throbbed as you realized that Geto’s teasing had an edge of truth.

Gojo smiled up at you, tucking a towel between your hips and Geto’s lap before hooking his hands into the waistband of your pants, gently tugging them down and tossing them away.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” He keened, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the inside of your thighs as his long fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.

You bit your lip as a million worries flooded your mind, but Suguru caressed your face, whispering conspiratorially, “Think about how pretty he’s gonna look between your legs. He can finally put that smartass mouth of his to good use, right?”

Satoru nibbled his way up your skin, sucking a dark hickey at the apex of your thigh as Geto continued to lavish your breasts with affection. You whined and moaned, keening with every touch. It felt like your entire body was on fire, and you’d go up in flames without the touch of both men. Any embarrassment you could’ve felt had long since evaporated; all you could do was beg for more as both men left their mark on your body.

“‘Toru, please… Wanna cum so bad.” You whined, begging for relief, and Gojo glanced up at you with an expression that would’ve terrified anyone else. He may have been in a traditionally submissive position, but there was nothing submissive about his body language; he looked like a fallen angel with the way his pale hair framed his face.

He slipped your panties off, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as all of your perfect body was finally revealed to his ravenous gaze. Satoru threw your legs around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to inspect your cunt. His pale eyelashes fluttered as he used one of his long fingers to part your puffy, swollen folds, completely mesmerized as you moaned his name and your cunt clenched in sheer anticipation of his touch. You were obscenely wet from the mixture of blood and arousal that trailed down your legs, and Gojo couldn’t wait any longer.

“Our girl’s got a perfect fucking pussy, Suguru,” He mumbled, diving in to lick a fat stripe all the way up to your clit. You moaned wantonly, your head lolling back against Geto’s strong chest as the man behind you held your body upright, still enamored with the way your breasts fit in his hands.

Period sex was very new to you, but you could already tell that it felt different- not different, better. You felt more sensitive than ever before, and not just between your legs. Your breasts felt heavy and full; you had a sneaking suspicion that you could’ve cum from Geto toying with them alone.

Gojo’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he ate you out like a man starved. He lapped up every bit of arousal and blood from your weeping pussy, fucking you with his tongue before trailing delicious circles on your swollen clit with his tongue until you screamed his name. Your thighs wrapped around Satoru’s head, and the white-haired man moaned desperately, taking the opportunity to slip two fingers deep into your cunt. You keened at the delicious stretch, and Suguru groaned at the sight.

“T-Toru… Ah-! Sugu….” Tears of pure bliss started to gather in the corners of your eyes as Satoru’s fingers rubbed mercilessly against your G-spot. You felt a familiar band of pleasure start to stretch in your lower stomach, and you whined in desperation. Suguru grabbed one of your arms, pressing desperate kisses against the delicate skin of your inner wrist as his other hand toyed with a nipple in time with Satoru’s thrusts.

“S’close.. Nnnnngh, gonna cum… pleasepleaseplea-” The band of pleasure snapped suddenly before you could even finish your sentence, launching you over the edge of the most intense orgasm of your life. Tears fell as you shattered in between the two men, crying and rocking your hips against Satoru’s face while your core fluttered around his fingers.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Suguru growled as he scooped you up. He cradled you in his arms and leaned down to kiss you as Satoru stood, licking the blood and cum off his fingers.

The taller man grinned as the two of you kissed passionately, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“Baby, you cryin'?” Satoru simpered before leaning in to lick off another tear. When Suguru pulled away to tell him off, Satoru pulled him into a searing kiss, slotting his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Geto’s eyes flared in shock before he leaned into the embrace, moaning as he tasted your arousal on his best friend’s tongue.

“I thought you deserved a taste, too. Isn’t she sweet?” Gojo asked innocently as he pulled away to kiss you as well. You whined and ran your hand over his bare chest as the white-haired man nipped at your already kiss-swollen bottom lip.

“Bedroom. Now.” Geto stood abruptly, his voice hoarse as he broke the embrace between you and Gojo. He carried you in his arms, shoving another large towel on top of your sheets before gently laying you on top of it. Your head lolled to the side, and you reached down to play with your puffy little clit, moaning softly as the men finished undressing in front of you.

You watched shamelessly, taking in the sight of their beautiful bodies. Both men were tall and muscular, but Satoru was taller with more of a lean build, almost like an acrobat or a swimmer. Suguru was truly the Yin to Gojo’s Yang; he was stockier and deliciously broad. It was an undeniable fact that both men were gorgeous.

“Sugu… Toru…. Please. Wanna feel you both in me,” You begged, rocking your hips against the movement of your fingers, not even caring about how needy you sounded.

The bed dipped with their weight as both men joined you on the bed without further hesitation. Geto knelt in front of you, motioning for you to get on all fours and face him. You hummed in delight, rolling over and pushing yourself up to face him. Suddenly, Gojo pinched your plush ass with a snicker. You gasped in shock, and Suguru took the opportunity to slap his thick cockhead onto your tongue.

“We’re gonna fuck you raw from both ends first, baby. Gonna really make you ours. How’s that sound?” He questioned with a smirk, rubbing his fat tip over your tongue.

Your gasp quickly turned into a purr of delight as you worked his tip into your mouth, greedily licking at the prominent vein that ran underneath his shaft. Geto’s raven-dark hair fell around his shoulders like a curtain as he moaned loudly. You could taste the salt and musk of his pre-cum as you worked his shaft deeper and deeper into your throat.

Gojo cursed lowly as he lined up his swollen cockhead with your opening. You wiggled your hips back at him, wordlessly begging to feel the stretch and delicious length of him deep inside you. He pushed in at an agonizingly slow pace, trying to give you time to adjust.

You moaned in ecstasy, and Geto gasped, bucking his hips slightly as he felt the vibrations of your throat around his shaft. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re sucking my dick like you were made for it.”

Gojo pushed in further, finally bottoming out with his fat cockhead nestled snugly against your cervix. You whined at the dull ache, but the feeling was addictive. You rocked your hips, desperate for more, and the white-haired man moaned. “And she’s sucking me in like she wants to get pregnant tonight.”

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped around Geto’s dick, drawing another ragged moan from the man. It wasn’t what you had intended at all, but you couldn’t hide your reaction to Satoru’s lascivious words, especially since he could feel your core fluttering in agreement with his statement.

You could feel the wickedly delighted grin spread across his face as Gojo grew deadly silent for a moment. “Oh, Suguru~ you should’ve felt the way she just clenched around me when I said that. Our girl is even dirtier than we thought.”

“I told you she’s perfect.” Geto slid into your mouth even further, sighing in bliss and his own ecstasy as he pushed into your throat, entwining his hands in your hair. You gagged for a brief moment; his dick had more girth than Gojo’s, and it was the biggest you’d ever taken like this. The raven-haired sorcerer moaned and crooned down at you, stroking the column of your throat where his cock was nestled so deeply.

More tears fell as your eyes watered in the bliss of being so completely used by the two men. You felt so full, so complete, and you couldn’t help but moan again as your nose rubbed against the dark trail of hair on Geto’s lower abdomen.

“Shit, gotta move. You ready, baby?” Gojo groaned, shallowly thrusting his hips. You tried to moan in assent, but the sound was strangled by the dick in your throat.

Geto tipped his head back in ecstasy, laughing hoarsely. “She wants it s’badly, ‘Toru.”

The two men started to move, alternating their thrusts in perfect rhythm like they’d planned this moment for years. Every deep thrust from Gojo would send you falling forward onto Geto’s cock; you could only wordlessly cry in bliss from the position the two men fucked you mercilessly.

Satoru pinched and kneaded the tender flesh of your ass with every thrust. He swiped one of his fingers between your legs, collecting the creamy mixture of his pre-cum and your arousal, offering it out to his best friend with a smirk. Geto sucked it off with an audible pop, groaning at the taste as Satoru returned to collect more. You choked again as you felt one of his long, clever fingers tease your tightest hole, circling the rim with predatory intent.

“Relax, baby. Gotta get you ready f’me.” He slipped his finger in, beginning to work you open as you relaxed into the intense but euphoric sensation.

“Our slutty princess wants all her holes filled, huh?” Geto groaned, looking down at your fucked-out expression. “Gotta cum again for us. Gonna make you cum so hard that you can’t think straight.”

Satoru slipped a second finger into your ass, working you open even further as the two men fell slightly out of sync with their thrusts. They were both breathing hard, grunting and begging desperately for you to cum with them. As if on command, you fell apart for the second time with an obscene moan. White sparks flashed through your vision as your orgasm shot through you, even more forceful than the first. Your cunt spasmed around Gojo so violently that he came on the spot, painting your blood-swollen womb with his pearlescent seed.

Geto cursed at the sound of Gojo’s strangled cry, pulling completely out of your mouth. You panted and moaned below him, your body shaking with every thrust as Gojo fucked you through your orgasm. Suguru groaned as your tongue lolled out, begging to be coated with his cum. His balls felt almost uncomfortably full as he stroked his shaft rapidly, intent on giving you what you begged for so prettily.

It only took a few seconds for Geto’s own orgasm to crash through him. The smooth movements of his hips and hands stuttered as he groaned lowly, painting your pretty face with his seed. However, most of it landed in your mouth, and you happily caught it with your pink tongue, holding it out for him to inspect.

“You’re going to… be the death of me one day,” the raven-haired man moaned as he felt blood immediately rush back to his cock. Instead of swallowing, your eyes shone mischievously, and you turned around to pull Satoru into a searing kiss. You mimicked his earlier actions, but this time you were pushing Suguru’s cum into his mouth.

Gojo moaned wantonly at the sharp taste, swallowing his share as his own cock twitched back to life. Geto pulled you away from the other man, maneuvering you to face him as he brought your hips down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. You screamed hoarsely, cunt spasming from overstimulation as Gojo laughed roughly, wiping the remainder of his friend’s cum off his lips before positioning himself behind you.

The white-haired man watched greedily as you bounced on Geto’s cock, taking a minute to lean back and stroke his dick until he was fully erect. Gojo pulled your hips back, stilling Geto’s thrusts, and he growled in response.

“Gotta let me in too,” Gojo chided, swiping a finger over his fat tip to coat it with pre-cum as he positioned it against your other hole. Your eyes widened, and you gasped as he started to push into you, stretching you slowly but mercilessly. Geto pulled you in for a ravenous kiss, devouring your litany of moans as he struggled to keep from thrusting into you. After a small eternity, both men were seated fully inside you, and you whined their names over and over like a prayer, begging them to start moving.

“Toru, Sugu… nnnnhgh, ‘m so full,” you cried, leaning your head against Geto’s shoulder as the two men cradled you in their arms. Their hands roamed over your body, caressing and groping every inch of you as they began to move, stretching your body past the very limits of pleasure. Your eyes glazed over; you couldn’t tell who was kissing your neck versus who was rubbing achingly soft circles on your clit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the two men brought you to climax again and again.

Soft rays of dawn were peeking through your bedroom window by the time the three of you fell onto your bed, breathing hard but finally sated. You looked around at the sheets and at your lovers, blushing hotly at the dried red marks that covered almost every surface in the room. The towels had not lasted long.

Geto chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, “We’ll clean up. Don’t worry.”

“And we’ll prepare better for next time,” Gojo added with a grin, poking your cheek.

Your whole body felt like jelly, but the two men were determined to care for you properly. Suguru walked into the bathroom, and you could hear the sound of water filling your bathtub as Satoru fetched a glass of water for you, helping you sit up to drink properly. He scooped you up, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he walked you into the bathroom, depositing you in the warm water. The three of you washed each other in blissful silence, with both men being extra attentive to your sore body. Afterward, they changed your sheets and put you in clean pajamas, slipping their own sweatpants on to climb into bed next to you.

“Thank you…” You murmured, already drifting off to sleep between your two lovers.

Geto kissed your temple silently as Gojo laughed softly, “Of course. We have to take good care of our girl, after all.”

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @cindyneko-strider @unoriginalidea @eldritchbeauty @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @pseudowho

#Lyria's fic for Noury🌻#curse you tumblr for making me repost this #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #gojo satoru x geto suguru #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

Text

Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

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statisticallymorelikely · 4 months

Text

✨00Q end of the year fic rec list ✨ (to commemorate the year of the lord 2023 when this ship came back to kick my ass)

the simplest of crimes by pdameron - fake marriage AU. my favorite 00Q fake married au just because the stakes are so low like they didn't have to do all that but the build up is so good.

come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron - florist!Q AU. this really got me giggling and twirling my hair.

James Bond Will Return by sorion - post-Spectre James comes back. a very charming character study.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron - pining Q. beautifully written with just the right amount of whump.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron - fake relationship but posh. i love whodunnits.

Hold Tight by orphan_account - Spectre fix-it. and fix it they did. also has my second favorite Q name.

lacunae (just the blood you owe) by finestkind - Q offers comfort as bond deals with grief. this fic honestly makes me ache, the way it handles friendship and grief and love UGH.

Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You) by Brihna - Spectre re-write where Q and James sleep before he goes off to Mexico. possibly my favorite Spectre fix-it, love emotional constipation and miscommunication.

Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac - Q pulls bond out of retirement for an emergency mission. the best mission fic i have ever read hands down.

bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton - soulmate au. gorgeous writing.

if I couldn't be strong by SailorChibi - post-Spectre James is found abandoned in a hospital in a coma. i love how quietly vindictive Q is in this.

a bloodless coup by Ark - marathon sex. very vulnerable.

I Could've Been a Maths Teacher by Brihna - Q branch gets invaded. v good translation of the comic into prose.

I Don't Take Your Pleasure For Granted by Catchclaw - Q develops a crush. love me some pathetic Q.

I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth - Skyfall re-write, lots of Q whump. the hurt is so good but the comfort is even better. plus i love attack roombas.

Favours by dhampir72 - pining from Q's POV. fun fact: my gf once quoted a line of this fic to me and i knew immediately which fic she was reading, that's how much i've read this.

rain by Aniron84 - touch starved Q. god GOD, this fic!! there was a time in my life, i read this multiple times a day. the description of loneliness is so on point it always hurts.

Fidelity by marlowe_tops - Q seems to have picked up a stray. local idiot doesn’t know he’s in a relationship, struggles mentally

Indelible by enjolras_lexa - 5+1 of bond breaking into Q's apartment. quite gentle and funny.

A Hitch in the Holster by APrettySpy - Q is having A Time during a heat wave and like Q i'm not immune to the holster

when the world isn't fair by Mlle_Heloise - James rescues Q's holiday. warm and fluffy.

The Pros and Cons of Wayward Agents by Brihna - Q whump with a protective Bond. is it bad to be all teehee while reading someone beat someone else to unconsciousness

Best Dressed by HandsAcrossTheSea - PWP with kilts! really good p0rn and with bottom Bond to boot!

Through A New Lens: A Spectacular Love Story by christinefromsherwood - Q discovers he has a glasses kink, or does he? listen, i too am not immune to daniel craig in glasses so i can relate.

talk / listen by thestalwartheart - dirty talk. a masterclass in p0rn honestly, SO good.

The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 - soulmate au. will never stop recommending this, it's so tragic and yet not?

#00Q #rec list #007 #james bond #quartermaster #i did not expect to get obsessed with them again #but honestly #one of the highlights of my year #there's such good fic out there im always well fed #ive read all of these at least 10x each

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n3ptoonz · 4 months

Note

mind writing for the Earthrealm men getting caught masturbating by the reader??👀

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to getting caught 🥩 👊🏾 by reader

warnings: suggestive; a lil steamy, i play too much (was sick and ovulating while writing this help me god), GERAS SPOTTED???

reverse roles here

Johnny Cage

Left the door open on purpose. WIDE OPEN. There he lied on his silk linens, blasting Marvin Gaye and going to town without taking his eyes off the door. Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he added a sexy ninja mime (i will never stop referencing past games) to act out him getting caught

When you "catch" him all you can do is facepalm, but it's outta love. Expect to have him let loose 50 cheesy pick up lines, dick in hand and all. Like he would still jerk it like he wasn't stuttering over his words once you took over

If you join the cheesy line fun, he may or may not cum on the spot. He loves when you're playful back. And tease him a lot. But like. Way more than he teases you. He can and will fall in love all over again (he will also bust quickly to this too. MULTIPLE times)

Raiden

This cutie pie. Snookums bbg. Blushing like a fool because you managed to overhear him utter your name multiple times in a hushed voice dripping with lust

I fully see him falling out of his bed and scrambling to pull his covers down with him just to cover his lower half. He gets even more nervous when he sees you not even attempting to leave, but instead having an inviting look on your face

Cue the comically loud gulp sound effect. His pretty brown eyes never left your figure, sitting on the hardwood floor with a painful erection between his thighs under a rather comfortable blanket. You'd have to ask if he wants help from your own lips, otherwise no sound would be in the room other than steady breathing and his heart thumping loud as hell (he says yes at the speed of light)

Smoke

Deer in headlights. One minute ago he was furiously zerkin it like there was no tomorrow, slutty sounds escaping his lips with no shame. Now he's like...oh...! You heard that..? Ahahah..

Would apologize so many times he ends up doing it in Czech. Please tell him it's okay😭In fact you'd only shut him up by telling him it was hot

Activates self indulgence beam I think...he'd be into it if you told him to finish what he started. Like sitting in a chair and watching him and he's not allowed to close his eyes- IM GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF (fic idea huehue)(if you write it before me, tag me.) But also albeit he stumbles over his words, he'd find some sort of way to ask for your help

Geras

WHAT!!! GERAS I KNOW WTF WHAT yeah he may be an immortal being but the man has his own needs. And is it even a question like...you're wondering how THAT fits in his hand like jesus christ you're going to kill someone sir (i got next)

It's nothing extravagant. He wasn't summoned by Liu Kang for a while, so he figured why not? He doesn't get much time to himself so let's crank one real quick 👀

Think of any scene from mk11 where he got "hurt" and was grunting, that's the sounds he was making and you could hear it through his door. But you thought he was hurt, so you came through the door just to be greeted by a SNAKE in his grip

Surprisingly calm...almost too calm...did he predict this? Who knows, all we know is you interrupted him and would definitely like your help. Does not shy away from this request too but that's how we like it 😈

Liu Kang

A similar incident with Geras. You overheard him while you wandered through his mansion trying to find and surprise him. So when you finally found his bedroom door and barged in, thinking he needed help, there he was dick in hand and completely unexpecting

He would try to remain calm but it would be clear as day that he was nervous. He'd quickly cover up with a pillow and give a small smile, asking if you needed anything like he wasn't shirtless and heart pumping at mach speeds

In his mind was like a static sound as he tried to focus on not getting hard again looking at you, feeling a little guilty as he couldn't help his instincts. I guess the God contract never said escaping from mortal desires! You offer to join the fun and he's like HUH...well, if you insist! (again he looks calm but is very, very excited, i promise)

Kung Lao

He had been schmeat beating after his long days of training so this isn't a new occurrence for him. But obviously, you've never walked in on him before. He was always able to get it done before he saw or met with you

Normally you rendezvous to Madam Bo's but you're like hm, why not bring him something to eat since you know he had a long day! Once you entered it didn't take you long to hear him calling your name from his room, so naturally you thought he knew you were here. But...it started to become like a chant. His voice breathy and deep (save me shaolin monk save me-) So when you check it out you find him with his head thrown back, hair messy and coated in sweat

The favoritism is leaking through the screen LMFAOOO He heard the door creak and yelped, asking why you were there so early out of breath you held the to-go bag in your hands with pure shock, immediately getting the idea to tease the shit out of him. He does it to you all the time, why not return the favor?! And he's like well?? Are you gonna help??? UH YA I WAS GETTING TO THAT😹😹

Scorpion

Kuai Liang rarely ever has the time to even talk to you, let alone talk to himself! So one of the few times he didn't think you were showing up to the temple but he had time to himself that he didn't think would last very long, he just needed to relieve his own stress real quick

Damn, he forgot he invited you to the temple since it was a slow day. You were appointed to his room by one of the recruits and sang his name, opening the door to the sound of squelching and panting

Your little song came to a stop at the same time of his gasp; eyes locked on yours. He wanted to smile, and drop everything to greet you like the situation wasn't what it was, but before he could even begin to hide himself you calmly close the door and watch his demeanor quickly switch to smug...it's gonna be a long day for the both of you😮‍💨

Sub-Zero

I'm using the same scenario from my first bi-han fic bc i said so, bite me!

He was avoiding you because he couldn't control himself around you any longer. The more he thought about you and how you pissed him off to great lengths before has him wanting to do terrible...terrible things (shoutout loki)(i've never seen loki) but he must suffice with pleasuring himself to the thought of you, the way your voice rang in his head, and how hot you looked patching up his injuries

When you caught him oh he was so sexually frustrated he couldn't think straight, panically pulling you into his room dick swinging and all. The scowl on his face didn't match the pink blush that was starting to form at how you looked at him. Why you were at his door is the least of his concerns, if you don't help him take care of this right now he might lose his mind 🥹

Kenshi Takahashi

He wasn't supposed to be last but I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and lost my notes on him so. LETS TRY THIS SHIT AGAIN.

When you caught him he was so so embarrassed. Don't let the calm and hot and sexy demeanor fool you, when it came to you it's like he's a clone; unrecognizable. He was stuttering and trying to justify whatever you just saw but then also asks why you showed up unannounced

You explain he said to come around this time a few days ago to spend some time together, and now he was mentally kicking himself bc how could he forget something so simple?! But hey, the fact that you weren't even budging, and even approaching him with a smile on your face told him all he needed to know. And who is he to say no to some help from a fine individual like you???

a/n: cranked this request out for y'all (fic might be posted today) this is a gift from me to you guys 😄 happy christmas and merry holidays to any and all cultures that do or don't celebrate during this time fr ❤️

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jojomiwbvb6 · 2 months

Text

The Shower Scene, Pt. 4

Taglist: @emzandthevoid @mentallynot-here @bloodymug @sprokat @princesspeach-00 @ghoulsquad @missduffsblog @yeehaw-my-guys @lma1986 @artificialbreezy

Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long to do this chapter! I have had a bit of writer's block and I have been busy doing a lot lately. This will be the finale to this series, I really hope you enjoy! Feel free to give me more ideas! I was thinking of writing some Sasuke or Itachi fics as well.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW. Extremely long and descriptive smut, unprotected p-in-v (be safe about it, or use condoms please), overstimulation, degradation, praise, oral (female receiving), punishment, spanking, swearing, squirting, casual alcohol consumption

PSA: this is very obviously a work of fiction, and should in no way be taken seriously or literally. this piece of fiction uses real people in fictional and fantastical mindsets--and it is in no way a representation of the real person or who they are as a whole. Thank you for coming to our ted talk.

Atlanta.

The humid wind hits your face, the city never motionless around you. You inhale the air, closing your eyes and letting your body relax. Your nerves are completely jumbled and overstimulated as your mind mulls over the past week so far.

The pictures of yourself flash through your head. Noah's words flooding your mind. You can't escape the anxiety it brought you, and the excitement of your actions.

You stared at your feet, black vans reflected against tan concrete as you stood against the bus. Twiddling your thumbs and exhaling heavily, you turn to Davis as he approaches you.

"Hey, kid! Some of the guys were just thinking of exploring the botanical gardens and the zoo and maybe going for some grub, wanna come?" He smiles at you, raising an eyebrow for an inviting answer.

"Shit, bro, I'm down." You agree and smile back. It was the first day off in over a week and you were grateful for it. You were looking forward to moments with Noah, but you also needed to get out and do something else for once.

As you and Davis caught up with the group, consisting of both you two, Ruffilo, Noah, Matt, and Jolly (the rest went off to do other things), you could hear their jesting and cackles even from a ways back.

"Morning guys!" You say, smiling and out of breath.

"Hey (Y/N)!" You were greeted by multiple of them.

Noah turned, walking backwards. "Hey, (Y/N)," he smirks lazily, waving his hand, drawing his eyes over you subtly and licking his lips.

You huff, catching his eyes and offering a suggestive smile. "Hi, Noah." He smiles back at you, and then turns back around to continue walking. You admire his long, toned frame as he took smooth strides forward.

All of you thoroughly enjoyed the relaxing and wondrous vibes of the gardens and the culture of the city. Having been walking and exploring for over 2 hours, you all decide to pause your activities for a bit of lunch.

"What should we eat? I'm starving, man," Ruffilo comments.

"Hmm. Haven't had Chipotle in a while," Davis replies.

"How about sushi?" Matt adds.

You're silent. Honestly, you're so hungry, you don't even care what you guys eat. Anything sounds good.

Noah steps up beside you. "Sushi sounds fuckin' fantastic," he agrees.

When the others aren't paying any attention, Noah leans into your ear quickly and quietly, "I'm hungry for something else, though."

You almost gasp when he leans away, giving a quick caress to your ass while the others are walking away. He casually smirks at you, continuing to walk in the direction of the Japanese sushi bar on the corner.

Your face felt hot, and you were fighting the frustrated blush that crept up your face. You were nearly hyperventilating and you couldn't help it. You took a deep breath of the next gust of Georgia wind that caressed your face, composing yourself and catching back up with the group.

"Fuck, this hits the spot dude." Matt comments, and you're nodding along with the rest of the guys.

"Hell yeah."

You're all sitting at the table, a whole boat of sushi in front of you and then some. Ruffilo is sipping on sake while all of you make small chit chat.

"Hey! Ruffilo! Let me try some of that," you say.

"Ever had sake?" Ruffilo says.

"No," you state, taking the small white cup from his hands.

"What!" You hear half of the table exclaim, with pleas of interest in you trying the drink.

You slowly take a sip. Instantly the taste of the Japanese alcohol hits your tongue and you're writhing. "Yuck! Oh! That's revolting!"

Cracks of laughter erupt from the table. Soon, you are laughing as well.

"That's enough of that," you joke.

After lunch, you all go shopping and walk around downtown. After several hours of being out and having free time the whole day, it was time to return to the hotel that was booked for the night. In the morning, you would quickly pack up and shuffle back onto the bus for Orlando, Florida.

Walking away from the bus with a suitcase in hand and backpack over your shoulder, you step into the hotel. You stop at the front desk to get your keycard from the receptionist.

"Room for (Y/L/N), please."

"Ahh," she pauses, typing on her keyboard. "We don't have a room here, I'm afraid..."

You frown. "All of these rooms should have been pre-booked," you state. Your mind frantically searches for a solution. You begin to list the several names of the other crew members and band members, but most were already in their rooms. You thought of one more name.

Oh, you thought. He didn't!

"There may be another name," you try. "Sebastian?"

The receptionist, looking mildly annoyed now, huffs and types in the name. You ignore her annoyance, watching patiently. A look of resolve crosses the receptionist's face. You feel hopeful.

He did.

"Hmm," she says. "It appears one more keycard is available for this room. Just sign this document and you may have your keycard."

You fill out the appropriate paperwork, signing on the line. The receptionist pulls the paper back to her and slides the keycard across the counter. You exchange your thanks.

"Room 207, 3rd floor." The woman tells you and turns away.

You don't waste anymore time. As you walk down the hall to the elevator, the smirk on your face grows 10 miles wide, confidence enveloping you.

You knew exactly why he'd done it, and frankly, you weren't about to protest. Your heart slams into your chest with every sound of your heels and the roll of the suitcase wheels on the carpet.

You take a deep breath as you step onto the elevator.

207.

The silver numbers glint as you stand parked in front of the door. He was inside there already, waiting for you to come in. You exhale shakily as you grip the door handle, and you hesitate.

Closing your eyes, you begin to smirk. This is what you've been fiending after for several weeks. Taking another deep breath, you slide the keycard into the door.

The lock clicks and you twist the handle, allowing yourself into the room.

You analyze your surroundings. One lamp is on in the dimly lit room. A small walkway leading into a rather spacious double bed. There was a desk to the left, and a mini kitchen straight ahead. The bathroom immediately to the left. Without paying further attention, you walk to a bed and set your bag down on it.

You didn't seem to notice Noah, maybe he'd left the room for something. You shrug, bending over to open up your suitcase and lay it out.

Without you noticing, Noah slips out of the bathroom and leans against the wall, examining the rear view you're giving him.

"Well, well, already bending over? Princess, I haven't even taken off your clothes yet," Noah chuckles darkly.

You swear you jump 10 feet into the air, yelping loudly. If he hadn't scared you, his words would've gone straight to your core. "Noah Sebastian, for crying out loud!" You laugh and smack his shoulder. "Don't do that!" You both share a chuckle.

You can feel Noah decreasing the distance between you two and your laughter begins to fade. Noah's eyes flutter over you, landing on your eyes, your mouth, your breasts, feeling overwhelmed pleasantly.

You found yourself licking your lips. You begin to turn away.

Faster than the flick of a wrist, Noah's hand shoots up, gripping your jaw and squeezing your cheeks together. You are both silent, the tension shooting higher than ever.

You go to grab his hand and you are immediately caught by his other hand. He grips your wrist tightly, but not painfully. Noah's eyes change into dangerous slits and a playfully evil smirk takes over his features.

"The way that you have been torturing me has been driving me insane," Noah whispers into your ear. You want to collapse on the spot.

He begins walking you slowly backwards.

"You've been such a fucking brat, too, getting me hot for you at the worst times..." His hot breath fans your face, your own breath quickening in pace.

"The only thing I can think about is how I'm going to having you praying to me when I'm done ravaging you." You feel your hips hit the desk behind you.

"Noah..." you whisper.

He pulls at your face until you're eye to eye with him. He chuckled darkly.

"That's my fucking name," he growls into your ear. "And you're never going to forget it."

His hands leave your face and your wrist. Gripping your hips, he lifts you onto the desk and shoves you on it. He pulls you against his own hips, and his left hand rises to tangle in your hair.

Noah's cologne invades your senses, addicted to the scent. He tugs at the strands, inflicting a raspy moan from you. "How beautiful," Noah mumbles, helping himself to your inviting lips.

You both kiss as if life were going to end. His fingers flex against your clothed hips, pulling at your shirt and caressing you. Your tongues slipped against each other, nipping and suckling at each other's lips.

You wrapped your legs around Noah's hips, pulling him closer. Noah pulls away from your lips. Smirking, he pulls up your shirt with ease and tossed it away somewhere on the floor behind you.

"Such pretty, pretty tits..." he drawls, giant hands cupping them and he flicks a nipple. You gasp. Noah moves up your body, leaning over to envelope a taut nipple into his warm mouth. He flicks at it with the tip of his tongue and you moan quietly.

He pops off of you and smirks wickedly, and feigns a look of concern. "Is that just too much pleasure for you? Should I stop?"

"N-no! No, please, don't stop," You almost choke.

Noah stands. His bulge is prominent against his sweatpants and you almost drool. It seems so big and you can't focus on anything but the need you feel. Your core is hot and you squirm.

"Such a needy fucking slut." He pulls your body forward, running a hand oh-so-low but not enough.

You mewl as his fingers creep to your covered pussy and slowly tease the bud.

"Mmm.." you groan and Noah chuckles.

"Like that, babygirl?"

You nod.

"Too bad." Noah stops and you whine. "Enough of that. Strip,"

"Yes, sir."

Noah chuckles. "Such good manners for me. So desperate."

By now, you're a puddle of pleasure and you want it to swallow you whole. Noah sits on the edge of the bed as you peel your pants off your shaking legs. You remove your panties, tossing them aside.

"So pretty," he comments. "Come here and lay across my lap."

You obey, positioning yourself across his lap.

"Before we begin, is this something you're okay with me doing to you?"

"Absolutely," you confirm. "I can take it."

Noah hums in understanding. "Such arrogance. You will learn."

His hands begin to touch and caress the flesh of your behind, shaking the cheeks and watching them jiggle with satisfaction. He rubs in slow circles. His hand leaves your ass, forming a cup-shape, and crack.

The first spank stings, and you gasp out. His hand returns to rub the welt.

"Here's how this is going to go. You will get five spanks for our first time. This is your punishment for being such a slut," he rubs slowly. "If you fail to complete the spanking, I'll fuck your mouth. I won't stop if you choke or gag."

You whimper and nod your head.

"I'm glad you understand. If you succeed, princess, I'll have a taste of you for myself."

You mewl, squirming in his lap. "Now, now," he warned you. "Count for me." You nod frantically, wanting so desperately to please him. Although, you wouldn't complain if you failed the test.

The first two spanks were easy. His hand fell on tandem and you dutifully stated each number with each gasp and whimper he pulled from you. You really didn't think you could fail, how could you? Sure, it stung a little, but you could handle it.

As "three" fell from your lips, the usual soothing rub came to ease the sting.

"Everything okay, princess?"

"Yes, sir."

"May I proceed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl," he whispered, making you squirm. He chuckled darkly. He pulled apart your cheeks, and leaned down. "Mmm, princess... so wet for me. Oh, I bet you're just aching. Let me help you..."

Noah dipped his fingers in between your legs. His fingers slid between the wet folds and you jolt. His other hand keeps you still and you're left victim to his merciless tease. He softly rubs into your wet heat and you're left mewling against his leg, head hanging.

Noah rubs the tip of his middle finger into your clit. "How's that?"

You nod frantically, unable to speak against his onslaught. At your response, he removes his fingers from your heat and resumes the next spank. The fourth spank is rougher and harder than the last.

"F-four!" You cry out, struggling to hold the composure that remained. "P-please, Noah, I--"

"Hush," he demanded. He caressed the welt, the red marks on your ass much to his liking. "One more for me, princess. You can do it."

Without any warning, Noah's fingers slip once again against your heat. Only this time, he doesn't relent. He teases and pinches your clit and you squirm, earning a dark chuckle from him.

Noah slides his fingers up to your entrance and sinks one finger inside of you and you moan.

"Noahhh, this isn't fair!"

"Be quiet, and don't you dare cum, or you lose," he threatens, and you obey with whimper after whimper as he pumps his finger in and out of you.

He adds another finger, and begins assaulting your clit with the other hand. You're an absolute mess against his lap, his fingers scissoring inside you and rutting against your g-spot. Bliss and pleasure overwhelms you, getting close to the brink as Noah's fingers continue to pump into you, faster and harder.

Your whimpers begin to form into cries, pleading for him to let you cum. Your eyes begin to roll back and you're trying to push back onto his fingers to get more from him.

"You like that baby?" He whispers in your ear. "Gonna cum?"

You nod, mouth agape. Noah smirks and removes his fingers entirely. You groan in frustration, and, as sly as he is, catches you off guard with the fifth and final spank.

Your brain almost can't comprehend the pleasure your body feels, the sting sending you into shock and you almost forget your task.

"F-f-five..." you stutter.

His large, long hands caress both cheeks of your ass and a kiss is planted onto the red welt on the swell of it.

"You're such a good, good girl, princess. I'm impressed. Good job," Noah praises you. "Lay down on your back for me."

You slowly get up and crawl onto the hotel bed mattress and lie down on the cushiony pillows.

"Spread your pretty legs, don't be shy."

You let your legs fall apart, spread against the sheets. Noah sucks in a breath and hums in satisfaction. He crawls up the bed to you, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as you had. Your eyes feast on the tattoos covering his body.

"God, princess, you're so fucking wet," you moan at his words and he dives in. Noah's tongue licks a wet stripe up your core from your entrance to your clit. You cry out, hands immediately finding his hair. Noah hums and you quiver, the vibrations stimulating you.

He licks into your folds with fervor, as if he hadn't eaten all day. His tongue dances and pokes at your entrance, pleasure spiking and you're squirming against his mouth. Noah laps at your clit, boldly taking the bud into his mouth and sucking at it. He then takes it into his mouth, swirling the sensitive area against his tongue, dancing in circles.

"Noah!!" you cry.

You arch your back, eyes rolling back as you grip his hair and pull, and he groans. Noah adjusts his position, shoving your legs up and he dives deeper into your pussy. He shoves his tongue up into it, swirling it and shaking his head like a rabid dog. You're practically crying out, thrusting against his face and leaving it a wet mess.

Offering you his fingers again, he dives against your clit once more, nipping at it and sucking it; this time, he aids his mouth with his fingers. Thrusting two digits in, his long fingers find your g-spot again. He mercilessly pokes at it, unrelenting with his tongue and fingertips. You're moaning and a mess and it's almost too much.

Your eyes see nothing but stars in the back of your head and you're moaning loudly. You cum and rut onto his mouth. "Fuck, fuck," you gasp.

Noah pops off of your pussy. "Tastes... so good..." he gasps. "I want more."

"I want you so bad, Noah," you whine. "I want you to fuck me."

"What a dirty mouth," he comments, stinking a finger in your mouth as he caresses your jaw. You wrap your lips around his finger and lock eyes with him. You suck and lock eyes with him. He smiles, and removes his finger.

Noah removes his pants and slides his boxers down his slim legs. The only thing you can do is lay there, mouth agape at the beautiful artwork before you. You bite your lip, you just can't wait.

He comes back to you, and you gasp in surprise when he forces your legs against your chest. Noah captures his lips in yours and lines his cock up with your entrance. He wastes no time in sinking in slowly. Due to your wetness, he slides in easily and sinks in as far as he's able. You're both gasping and long moans escape from your mouths and the intense heat between each other's legs.

He begins to move slowly, enjoying the teasing ways your walls grip his cock, threatening to take him deep.

"Fuck, baby... your pussy is just so fucking wet..." he mumbles. A low groan erupts from him, eliciting a moan from you.

His pace begins to quicken and he ruts in deeper. He just can't help himself when you give him the go-ahead by moaning louder.

Pretty soon, the room is filled with explicit sounds from the two of you. The sound of skin slapping fills the room and you're moaning. You're both mumbling the dirtiest phrases to each other, getting each other hotter and higher.

"Fuck" is the only word you chant as he thrusts into you like his life depends on it. He's fucking you hard and unforgiving.

"This pussy is mine," Noah growls into your ear, and you moan.

"Noah!!" You cry as his pace picks up, desperate and greedy. Skin slaps skin, near stinging, relentless. You can't help it when you cum, creating such a sinful sight for Noah as your wetness coats your legs and his cock.

He growls. "Fuck, I'm not done with you yet!" He pulls out and turns you over into doggy, pushing your stomach down and pulling your ass into the air.

He enters you again, finding his rhythm. Pulling you back against his hips in every thrust.

"Take me, take me, take me," you cry out.

Noah groans, picking up his pace. He twists his fingers into the strands of your hair, pulling your head back. He pounds into you, and at this angle the pleasure is overstimulating as his cock hits your spot over and over. He pulls you further back, forcing you to rise to your hands, the pace unforgiving and tears fall down your cheeks.

"Noah!" You cry once more.

Juices run down your legs as you cum one more time, but Noah doesn't seem to be done. You're worn out and fucked into bliss, drooling against the pillow. You can't think and your voice is hoarse.

He groans loudly, letting you know he's almost ready. You push back on his cock and he growls. Wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing gently, he begins fucking in quick ruts. "Fuck, princess, (Y/N)!"

He pulls out of you, his cock glistening and pulsing as his cum shoots out in pearls against your stomach. You moan, but Noah isn't done.

His hand goes to your clit and he smirks. You cry out at the fast quick pace he uses on you, his fingers insert inside of you to smash against your g-spot in one final assault.

"Cum, (Y/N), one more for me," he insists. He doesn't stop, and quickens his pace.

"Noah, please!" You beg, too overstimulated and sensitive.

He doesn't listen, yet urges you towards an orgasm that feels like a tsunami coming for you.

It happens before you can stop yourself, your cum coming out in such a powerful wave that you squirt a little, making such a mess.

This absolutely pleases Noah and he smiles. "Perfect." He kisses your cheek. "You are wonderful." He praises.

You both lay there, panting and laughing, praising one another.

"Shower?"

"I think so."

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #noah smut #the Shower Scene Noah

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toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ oh my!

pairing: xu minghao x reader

description: choosing to be roommates with vernon chwe would undeniably be one of the few life-changing decisions you made in your lifetime. he brought along support, friendship, and most importantly: a hot friend. — or, in which you’re roommates with vernon and you happen to fall for one of his many chaotic friends.

tags: smut (18+), oral (m receiving), just stupid mutual pining, fluff, seriously self indulgent, mentioned past toxic/controlling relationships

w/c: 13.6k

a/n: REPOSTED. this was my first attempt at a kpop fic ever and my first time writing smut so please bear with how awkwardly written it is. a fic that was supposed to be multiple parts but i couldn't come up with a real plot either so ummm … nevertheless i hope u enjoy!

I. OH MY!

Moving in with Vernon is among your top life changing decisions, pretty much ever.

You two met in college, first sharing a calculus class together and occasionally studying together. Your friendship was budding—he was someone you could count on and never had to second guess. Spending more time together, you naturally grew closer, eventually reaching a point that when Vernon mentioned moving out of his shitty studio, you two immediately decided to find a place together.

Fresh out of college, it was the best decision in all ways possible—money was not nearly as big of a burden as before, and it was fun having a friend to talk to whenever you wanted in the vicinity of your own home.

It’s been an enjoyable eight months since you two started renting out this place together, and this evening, you’re in the kitchen cooking some brownies with an old package of brownie mix you found shoved in the back of one of your cupboards. You’re making a bit of a mess, but you can only hope that Vernon doesn’t mind too much—you will clean it, after all.

You’re in the midst of pondering about how long it’ll take you to clean up the little (big) splatter of flour you dropped on the ground when there’s a buzzing that comes from your phone. You huff, looking down at your fingers that are coated in oil and brownie batter. Setting down the bowl you were mixing, you then go to wash your hands as the buzzing dies out. After wiping down any moisture left on your skin, you pick up the phone to see a missed call from Vernon.

Did he forget something? you wonder, pressing the call back button and holding your phone up to your ear. You hear him pick up the line almost immediately, curious to know why he called you. “Hey,” you say casually when you know he can hear you. “Everything good?”

There are a few voices in the background that you hear, and you recall how he told you this morning he’d be hanging out with his friends. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s great. Look, I was wondering if it would be okay with you if my friends came over to our place? I would’ve asked earlier but I didn’t think we would be hanging out more and…well you get it,” Vernon sighs.

Your lips make a little ‘o’ shape, nodding to yourself as if Vernon could see you right now. “Yeah of course they can come over!” you tell him.

“Are you sure?” he clarifies, and you smile at the sincerity. “It’s just—I mean like they’re probably going to stay a while?” It comes out as a question and you laugh. “Don’t laugh at me,” Vernon grumbles, “I’m just making sure because they’re probably going to stay late in the night and there’s a lot of them.”

“Yes Vernon, I know there’s a lot of them—twelve to be exact,” you retort. “Yes, I’m okay with it, it’s not like I do anything these days anyways. I’ll be fine,” you tell him honestly.

“Okay, thank you so much,” he replies, relieved. “We’ll be there in like ten minutes.”

“Ten?!” you shrieked, quickly taking in the giant mess you made around you, baffled when you think about how you’re going to clean this up.

“Yes, sorry,” Vernon murmurs. “These guys change their minds so much and—ugh—you get it. We’re already close to the apartment complex so we’re just going to come up. Is there a problem?”

You hum, looking around you. “I might’ve made a bit of a mess in the kitchen, but…but I’ll figure it out.”

Vernon laughs. “I doubt they’ll care—most of them are dogs.” You giggle at the muffled protests heard in the background before he continues. “Anyways, thank you, I owe you one. See you in five.”

Your phone beeps when he hangs up and you stand by yourself in the middle of the kitchen. “Five?” you whisper to yourself, “Fuck! He said ten! But now five? Fuck!”

You whip your head around to look at the kitchen, grimacing as you’re dawned with the realization that there is no way you’re going to clean this up before they come. It takes you around 5 seconds to debate your options, finally deciding to just give up on trying to clean up and focus on finishing the batter and getting the pan in the oven.

You set your phone back down on the counter, picking up the batter bowl and giving it a few more stirs to rid it of any clumps before spreading it all out on a pan. It takes you a few moments to find the mittens and stick it in the preheated oven, a wave of relief washing over you when you’re done.

That’s one thing out of the way…I guess , you think to yourself, letting your hair down from the tight up-do you had it in earlier. Looking down at your black t-shirt and yoga pants, you take a few moments to try and dust off whatever flour rubbed off on the cloth. Of course, many stains still remain, but you figured this was better than nothing.

You’re about to grab a broom to clean up the floor when you hear a knock at the door. Sighing in defeat, you wash your hands once before heading to the door. You’re placing your hand on the door knob before you hear some clicking, hesitating to open once you realize it’s Vernon on the other end unlocking it himself. You step back from the doorway as the door is pushed slightly ajar, allowing you to poke your head through the small gap.

You’re met with the sight of multiple guys crowding around the door, a slightly frantic and honestly exhausted-looking Vernon leading the group. “Hey,” he greets as you step back once more, pulling the door open fully.

“That was less than five minutes!” you exclaim, trying your best to ignore the gazes of the unfamiliar faces behind Vernon. You’ve seen pictures of them before on Vernon’s social media and stuff but you don’t really know them at all—you’re only aware of bits and pieces from the stories he tells you occasionally.

“I’m sorry!” he puts his hands up in surrender, stepping through the doorway as you back into the kitchen that remained in the chaotic state you left it in.

“I didn’t have time to clean!” you whine, frantically waving your hand at the kitchen, allowing Vernon to take in the scene.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a new voice pops in and you see a hand snake it’s way around Vernon’s shoulders. A man with blonde hair and a chiseled face looks at you sympathetically. “It’s not Vernon’s fault,” he tells you calmly. “You can blame it on us for changing plans quickly. Don’t worry, Vernon feels bad about it, he told us.”

You sigh, a small pout making its way onto your face. “Fine,” you huff as the rest of the boys fill the large room that contains the kitchen and living room. You aren’t sure what to do now, watching them all shuffle around, taking off their shoes and attempting (key word: attempting ) to organize them in front of the doorway. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead—should you go to your room now? Would it be awkward to just hang around here while they’re in the living room (your kitchen and living room are basically one large room, so there’s no real way to avoid them)?

You’re glad Vernon picks up on your uncertainty. He turns to his friends, speaking up and saying your name, which catches you by surprise. “My roommate,” he clarifies, as they all look at you. You smile awkwardly, giving a small wave before averting your gaze. Vernon then turns around, pointing at the couch across the room, “Now can one of you set up the Mario Kart?”

The rest of the boys nod, beginning to break out into small conversations by themselves as they all make their way to lounge in the connected room, finally giving you a bit of space to breathe (not that they were making you uncomfortable or anything—you’re just a little shy).

“I’m sorry again,” Vernon tells you, and you can hear the genuinity in his voice. “What were you making, by the way?” he asks curiously, peering over at the mess.

“It’s okay! And I was making brownies—I found some old box mixes in the back of the cupboard and I figured I should make them before they expire,” you explain, looking over at his friends who have now settled in the living room comfortably. “Do your friends want some? I’ve made a big enough batch for everyone, I’m sure,” you tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Vernon can you stop asking me if I’m sure,” you complain loudly, running a hand over your face. You hear a snicker come from the other side of a room, catching sight of one of Vernon’s friends seated on ground, a playful smirk on his face upon hearing your conversation. You feel your ears burn, quickly turning back to Vernon. “Yes, I just made them for fun. It’s better to share with them than have us eat all of it,” you chuckle, picking up a dustpan from the corner of the kitchen to begin cleaning up.

“Okay fine,” Vernon murmurs. “Thank you a lot,” he concludes, finally turning and joining friends on the couch. You begin your work to clean up the flour you dropped on the ground, getting lost in your own little world after slipping in your airpods, tuning out the noises of rowdy men and Mario Kart sound effects.

You’re practically done with cleaning the kitchen when you hear your timer go off, nearly skipping to the oven to turn it off and pull out the pan of brownies you’ve been putting so much effort into. The aroma floats through the room, and you catch the glances of a few of Vernon’s friends who peek over, trying to get a look at whatever you’ve come up with.

You smile to yourself, placing the pan on the counter before pulling out a knife to make nice, even pieces. It takes you a few moments, but once you’re done, you look down at them happily. Slipping on your mittens, you carry the tray over to the living room, a small, upwards curve pulling at your lips.

The boy you remember from earlier—the one who laughed at your reaction to Vernon—notices you first, and you can’t help but wonder how you didn;t recognize him from any pictures because holy hell he’s pretty. His eyes are looking at you through heavy eyelashes and there’s a coy smile tugging at his lips—he’s charming .

It takes you a good five seconds to realize you’re staring at him and another five to realize he’s caught you in the act. You whip your head away, looking at the rest of the boys, some of which who are intently focused on the game on the screen, others of which who are indifferent.

“Um, I made some brownies, if you guys want,” you tell them all, clearing your throat. “They’re fresh, so they’re a little hot, but you can wait for them to cool down.” You set down the pan on the table as the rest of them quiet down, some immediately spewing out words of gratitude.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” one of them asks, and you recognize him as the tallest. Mingyu? You recall some stories about him.

You shrug. “I kind of just made it because we had the boxes left…I think it’d be better if you guys shared it.”

Another boy with glasses sitting on the armchair speaks up. “You can eat it with us—our way of saying thanks,” he encourages. You throw out a close lipped smile, glancing at Vernon as if to ask if this was all just a show of politeness or an actual offer. He offers the slightest nod, and your once tight smile is let loose. You nod your head cheerfully, looking around you to find a spot to sit.

Noticing your confusion, the boy with the blonde hair and sharp face from earlier points to your right. “Sit next to Minghao, I’m sure there’s room there.”

You look down, met with the gaze of him , trying your best to hide your twinge of excitement as you silently shuffle over and sit down at the edge of the rug. Minghao . You like that name, you say to yourself in your head before shaking your head lightly—what are you thinking? You can’t be crushing on a guy you just laid your eyes on!

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the screen, grateful to see everyone else’s attention has also averted to the heated one-on-one match between the glasses guy from earlier (you now have learned his name is Wonwoo) and Mingyu.

They’re a loud bunch, but you can’t find it in you to mind—watching them all get along so well, so freely, is liberating in itself. You feel relaxed in a way you didn’t know you could be.

As content as you feel right now though, there’s an anxious thought buzzing at the back of your mind, and no matter how desperately you try to push it back, it keeps crawling its way up, especially when you feel your thigh brush Minghao’s .

Stop it , you chide yourself. Stop it! A little more harshly. Stop thinking about him!

“Hey…” the first time he says it, the words don’t quite reach your ears. “Hey,” he says again, nudging your thigh with his knee, increasing the minimal physical contact you two already had. You’re snapping out of your daze in an instant, whipping your head up to look at him . “You good?” he asks, and while you can tell he’s being sincere, there’s an almost playful smirk gracing his lips.

“Huh…oh, yeah,” you murmur, bashful that he caught you lost in your own head, thinking about him. “Just zoned out for a second,” you explain with an awkward laugh, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your chin on your knees.

“I could tell,” Minghao replies, and you can’t help but gaze at how cool he is as he reaches toward the coffee table, cutting himself a piece of the brownie. You watch him carefully as he takes a bite—you’re honestly just admiring his face, but you think you can brush off your shameless ogling as looking to see if he likes the brownie. He catches you staring, and you’re unsure of what he thinks of it, opening his mouth to talk again once he’s swallowed it. “It’s good,” he tells you, and you smile.

“I’m glad…it would have been kind of embarrassing if it wasn’t.”

“Don’t worry—chocolate isn’t even really my thing but I like it,” Minghao compliments, and you can’t tell if he’s being genuine or faux out of sincerity. Your grin brightens nevertheless as you sink back into the front of the sofa behind you, averting your gaze to the screen once again.

You’re feeling a little shy, of course, and the silence that now sits between you and Minghao isn’t uncomfortable or awkward, rather it’s…heart-warming. Your smile doesn’t leave your face as the room is full of cries and laughter and taunts as the results of the first round are revealed.

You sit in an amused silence, watching them for around another twenty minutes and even getting to play once (albeit your minimal effort—Mario Kart always gives you a headache anyways), before quietly standing up as the boys are cheering over Wonwoo winning yet another match. Minghao looks at you as you raise yourself above him, and your stomach churns at the way he raised a brow.

“Leaving already?”

You shrug casually. “I think it’s about time I get to doing my own stuff,” you explain, throwing out a small smile before retreating to your room before Minghao—or anyone else—can notice or say anything. You’re grateful Minghao didn’t make a scene about you leaving—it’s not that you don’t like the boys (far from it), but you’ve been tired the whole day and were looking forward to a nice nap.

Settling into your bed after shutting your blinds, you pull the covers up to your chin shooting a quick text to Vernon to make sure he wakes you up for dinner if you didn’t wake yourself up in time. You shut your eyes tight, doing your best to ignore the tight feeling that settles at the bottom of your stomach.

The second you identify the feeling, you squeeze your eyes closed tighter. Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Your words don’t aid you, of course, because all you’re thinking about his stupid fucking Minghao and his stupidly hot face and his stupidly cute smirk and the stupidly handsome way he looks at you and— oh my god you need to turn your brain off right now.

You settle on not breathing, trying to pretend you’re dead, in hopes it’ll lull you to sleep. Of course, the effect is the opposite of your intentions—the lack of oxygen only reminds you of the way Minghao took your breath away when you first noticed him.

You huff to yourself, rolling your body over so your face is pressed into the pillow as you quietly curse to yourself. “God, I’m so fucked,” you whine, childishly pounding your fists against the plush of your mattress.

You’re being immature, you know you are—like a child throwing a tantrum—but who can blame you? He’s just so pretty and that smile of his is so endearing and you can’t help but find yourself so falling for him.

It’s a miracle that you fall asleep at all, let alone so quickly. You figure the exhaustion from the past week has finally caught up to you, even with the onslaught of attraction that came your way after seeing Minghao.

When you wake up, it’s much darker. The sun hasn’t fully set yet, but the sky is painted a deep red which is bound to morph to purple within a few more moments before finally sinking into nighttime. You glance around and you realize that the only thing besides the outside light that’s illuminating your room is your bed lamp that you forgot to turn off.

You rub your eyes a few times, still in a bit of a groggy, drowsy daze, before remembering what woke you up in the first place—the knock on your door. “Hello?” you croak out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth at the mangles sound that leaves your mouth. It’s quiet for a moment and you’re able to identify the faint voices in the rest of the apartment as Vernon’s friends.

Your mind is suddenly racing through the possibility of who could’ve knocked on your door and— oh my god! What if it’s Minghao?! What if he heard y—

You hear your name being called out softly and your speeding train of thought falters. It’s Vernon. Thank fucking god. “You up?” he says through the door and you pull the covers off of you to meet him at the door. Poking your head through the crack as you open it slightly, you squint immediately at the intrusion of light to your unadjusted eyes.

“Good morning,” you joke, stepping back to let him in. “Thanks for waking me up…jeez, I was knocked out,” you murmur to yourself, rubbing a hand over your face as you walk to your dresser to find yourself a comb. “What time is it?”

“It’s like six…the guys were worried that they were being too loud when I told them you were sleeping,” Vernon muses, pulling up his phone to scroll through something. “But I was like nah she sleeps through everything—and I was right,” he says with a laugh as you roll your eyes, trying to make yourself more presentable as you pull your hair back into a low do.

“Whatever…did you guys have fun? I’m assuming so since they’re still here…”

“Yeah, we’re ordering dinner right now. I told you they were gonna stay for a while. That’s why I woke you up too: I was gonna ask if there was anything specific you wanted—if you wanna eat with us of course,” he explains, holding up his phone to display the food delivery app he had opened earlier.

“Would that be okay? If I had dinner with you all?”

“Yeah of course, no one would mind,” Vernon assures you as you look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair, narrowing your eyes at your roommate.

“You sure?”

“Okay now you need to stop asking me if I’m sure,” Vernon huffs with a roll of his eyes followed by your laughter.

“Okay okay, fine,” you reply. “Give me like two minutes I’ll come out and we can decide something with everyone,” you say, ushering Vernon out. He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around to join his friends in the other room. After he leaves, you debate with yourself whether or not you should change or join the rest with your pajama pants and loose fit t-shirt.

Overcome with the still lingering drowsiness from your nap, you choose comfort, and decide to just throw on a loose cardigan over whatever you’re wearing now before stepping out of the room. A yawn escapes your lips as you enter the living room, catching sight of all the boys lounging around—some are seated on top of the kitchen island, legs hanging over the edge, while others are laying down on the couch with their feet kicked up, the rest with their legs folded on the ground.

You try not to stare at Minghao too much when he enters your line of vision, but the task is becoming impossibly harder the longer you look: he’s laid back on the couch, feet resting on a blonde boy—Jun, you think is his name’s—lap, and you don’t miss the way his arms are crossed behind the back of his head, shirt lifting up just enough to reveal a little bit of the skin that dons his torso.

You begrudgingly peel your eyes away from the marvelous sight when you hear someone call your name, heads turning to you once they realize you’ve finally joined them.

“About time,” the boy with sharp features from earlier—Jeonghan—says as a greeting, waving you over as he stands next to Vernon. “Come on, help us decide what to order.”

“D’you sleep well?” another asks, and you turn your head to see who’s speaking as you approach Jeonghan. You recognize the boy now as Seungkwan, and you smile while nodding. “I swear me and Chan thought you were dead!” he exclaims jokingly as you furrow your eyebrows.

The boy next to him shoots Seungkwan a death stare before speaking up, much to your amusement. “What Seungkwan means is,” Chan begins with a huff, “we were playing a game and Mingyu lost and he yelled and we were scared we woke you up but nothing happened!”

“I told you, she sleeps through everything,” you hear Vernon mumble from behind you, not missing the joking look that’s toying with his face. You roll your eyes and hit his shoulder, loud enough for everyone to hear and cause them to laugh, smiling internally at the reaction you were able to elicit.

“That’s not true!” you whine, looking over his shoulder to see what restaurants they were choosing from.

“Joking, joking,” Vernon mumbles, turning his phone so you could see better. “We’re choosing between Mexican and Thai. You can choose which, since we’re all pretty evenly split.”

You hum for a second, thinking about which you’re craving more, finally settling on, “Thai!”

There are some cheers that erupt behind you, and your face heats up right away when you turn around to see some of them (Minghao in particular) with cheerful smiles and fists of victory in the air. “Thai it is!” Vernon announces. “Tell me what you guys want,” he says before looking at you. “The usual?” you nod with a grin, backing away as he places the order while the others call out the array of dishes you want, making your way to the seating area to sit down by one of the sofas (totally not because that’s where Minghao was sitting).

As you settle down onto the ground, Minghao speaks up. “Do you want to sit here?” he asks, sitting up from his horizontal position, pulling his legs back to make space between him and Jun on the couch. Your eyes shoot up, darting between Minghao’s deep brown eyes and the space on the couch.

“Are you sure? You can lay down if you w—”

“Nonsense,” Jun says with a chuckle, and you can’t even comprehend what’s going on until you feel Minghao’s cool fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you up slightly as a direct invitation to take up the spot next to him. God his skin is so soft and his touch is demanding yet so gentle and it’s just enough to get the butterflies that you thought died off to be resurrected once more. “Our way of thanks for choosing Thai,” Jun tells you.

“Yeah,” Minghao agrees, and you try your best to focus on what he’s saying even if it’s impossibly hard with the way his body is pressed up right against you. He leans back as if to stretch his body, arms reaching back behind the couch and settling in the space behind you,

God, you feel like you could die on the spot—it’s not like he’s got an arm wrapped around you or anything so why does this feel so intimate? You can only hope and pray that he doesn’t feel the immense heat radiating off of you as you adjust yourself to sit more comfortably on the couch. In hopes to diffuse the tension that you’re kind of sure you’re the only one feeling, you speak up. “Do you guys want to watch something? A show? A movie?” you suggest reaching forward to pick up the TV remote from the coffee table.

“I’m down,” Wonwoo says with a shrug.

“Oh yeah!” Seungcheol speaks up, “I’ve been wanting to rewatch Batman for a while!”

“Batman then?” you, looking around at everyone as you click the remote to pull it up after you see the nods of their heads. You put on the movie, sinking back into the couch as you do your best to focus on the screen in front of you, and not the faint touch of Minghao’s arm to the back of your neck.

You’re successful for a bit, thankfully, but your peace of mind hardly lasts when the food comes in and everyone settles on the ground to eat—your and Vernon’s rule that there’s no eating curry on the couch. You, Minghao, and Jun slip from your spots on the couch and sit on the ground where your feet lay just a few moments ago, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of the little space you three are squished up against.

It’s a miracle, you think, if Minghao doesn’t notice the way your skin burns against his as his thigh is pressing right up against yours. This touch is different from the one in the afternoon—that one was…light…innocent. This one…this one’s different—it has you burning and yet shivers run down your spine. If you were a little bit more in your senses, maybe—just maybe—you would notice the tight lipped smile that tugs at Minghao’s li ps as well.

Oh my! Now the crush begins.

II. COME TO ME

That night, after the movie, the food, and some beer, the twelve boys shuffle out of the house at around eleven, murmuring soft and tired “thank yous” and “goodbyes.” You can’t deny that you’ve been…a little stiff the entire evening. Sitting next to Minghao for a good 2 hours wore you out—it was a constant battle between your moral consciousness and your…budding feelings.

Stop looking at him! You’d say one moment, but then, god—oh my god his hands! No! Stop! He’s so close to me —stop acting like you’re in middle school! But his smile is just so pretty, god he lights up the room , but wait, stop being so cliche!

Naturally, you're convinced you’ve gone insane. Once the boys left, you and Vernon are left in the comfort of each other’s silence before beginning to make small conversation as you guys begin to clean up (the others honestly didn’t leave that much of a mess, you were just a bit of a clean freak).

“Your friends are fun,” you tell him quietly as you throw out the food containers that you finished earlier. Vernon looks up at you with a small smile, and you can tell that he’s been anxious about you not enjoying your time.

“That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Why haven’t you brought them over before?” you ask curiously, pondering about how there might have been a chance you could have laid your eyes on Minghao ages earlier. “Aren’t they like your best friends?”

Vernon shrugs. “Well yeah, they are, but there’s a lot of them, like you saw. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with that, today just happened to be a day where it was hard for me to say no to them.” You laugh heartily at that—the image of Vernon being persuaded by twelve guys looking at him with puppy eyes. “I really am glad you liked them though. If it’s okay I’d like to have them over more,” he puts out tentatively.

Of course, you perk up at that—maybe a little too noticeably. “I’d love that!” you say excitedly, before shrinking back down at how eager you sound. “I mean like, of course I won’t barge on your time with them but they’re really fun to be around and I’d like to see them more often,” you explain, placing your hands on the counter now that you’re done cleaning all the dishes. Vernon seems to catch onto something and you want to die from embarrassment with the way he’s raising a brow at you.

But if he does notice anything, he doesn’t say it, instead choosing to shrug again and trudge away from the kitchen. “That’s great. Can I have them over next Saturday?”

You blink once then blink twice. “Of course,” you reply without a second of hesitation.

Saturday can't come soon enough. With your own work to do, you find your mind drifting constantly to the face of a pretty man who you can't seem to stop thinking about. You need to scold yourself every single time you realize you're daydreaming—god no, more like fantasizing—about a man who you've not only seen only once, but is one of your roommate's best friends.

Daunting as it is, you're finding this whole situation quite...fun. You can't remember the last time you've felt something so pure and rejuvenating as this crush—gosh, you feel childish for calling it that but what else can it be? Your heart palpates when you think about him, your eyes ache to see his beautiful face again, and holy hell you don't even want to get started on the raw goosebumps you get when reimagining the moment where his skin brushed up against yours.

It's Friday night now, and your stomach swims with anticipation of what tomorrow will hold. You're sitting on the couch in your living room when Vernon comes home from the gym, dropping a bag of food on the kitchen counter. "Hey, I was at the gym with Mingyu and he got me some leftovers that his mom made," he tells you as you look up at him.

"Oh sweet," you say, relieved you won't have to go through the effort of figuring out what to make for dinner. "Your friends are coming over tomorrow, right?" you ask, feigning nonchalance—fucking acting like tomorrow hasn't been the only thing on your mind for the past one week.

"Yeah, they're gonna come up pretty early actually. I was gonna ask you actually, if you wanted to come with us since we're planning on going to the beach later. It's gonna be pretty hot and we haven't gone down in a while," he explains, beginning to open the bag of food as you get up and join him, trying to ignore the endless thoughts that run through your mind.

"The beach? Of course I'd want to come—wait, would that be okay with them? I wouldn't wanna intrude in on your day."

Vernon shakes his head with a chuckle. "Oh my god can you stop?" he says jokingly, "they were the one's who suggested, actually. Not that I don't want you to come either—I do—I just want you to know that they enjoyed you being there last week just as much as you did."

"Really? Who suggested it?" You hope you aren't coming off as too curious—Vernon is perceptive, and you'd be a fool to think he couldn't figure out exactly why you're so insistent on figuring out who asked for you to be there.

He seems preoccupied though, taking the food out of the containers, much to your relief. "Uhh, it was Minghao I think. But like everyone agreed after that, Jeonghan even said he'd pay for your ice cream if you came."

You're convinced the universe is bullshitting you right now. Minghao? Your Minghao? Asked if you could join them? At the beach?

You might just pass out.

Naturally, Vernon looks at you funny. "Are you good? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

You shake your head nervously with a smile, turning back to grab a piece of fried chicken he pulled out. "No no, I was just thinking about if I even have any swim suits—I think I threw them out last summer because of Jungho," you murmur, and while it's not the full truth about what you were just thinking about, it is something that's on your mind. Vernon looks at you with a frown.

"You threw them out because of Jungho?" he asks sadly. "Fucking hell, I forgot how crazy he was," he murmurs, looking down to take his own bite of the food. You shrug solemnly, finding yourself in a mood a bit more down than you'd like.

"Weird times," you reply simply. "Think I could just go to the beach in like some shorts and a shirt? It's just water after all."

"Yeah that should be fine. We'd be leaving before noon so I don't think you'd have the time to buy new ones anyways," Vernon agrees, pushing himself off the counter.

You nod with a smile, ignoring the small pang of sadness you felt just moments ago. "Sounds good."

You're a heavy sleeper—you always have been—and given that it's a Saturday, it's no question that you're bound to sleep until Vernon is banging your door to make sure you aren't dead. Seriously. Saturday morning, despite your excitement, kicks off with a groggy start. You're rolling around in bed, ming hazy as you aimlessly try and figure out what time it is and what exactly woke you up since you know you don't set alarms for weekends. It takes a few seconds for the knocking on your door to register in your brain.

You blink once and rub your eyes, squinting so that they can adjust to the light as you peer at the clock, realizing that—shit, oh shit, it's almost 11. Didn't Vernon say that his friends were going to be here in the morning?! And that they were gonna leave before noon?! Shit!

You're scrambling out of bed, digging through your drawer as you call out a meek, "I'n up!" to whoever's knocking on your door, throwing on the only swim suit that you—thankfully—found tucked away in your closet the night before, covering it up with some shorts and a loose top that you picked earlier as well. You're quickly faced with realization that you still look like you just rolled out of bed which, to be fair, you had. That doesn't stop you from frantically brushing through your hair, trying to put it into a simple braid before finally feeling ready to open the door.

You're expecting to see Vernon, in all honesty, since that's how it went the last time they were all over. The man standing in front of your door is, in fact, definitely not Vernon. No, the man in front of your door is Xu fucking Minghao, and you think you're absolutely fucked by the way your knees go week.

"Hi, sorry, I hope I didn't rush you," he greets politely, stepping back, allowing you to take a good look at him. He's wearing a white sleeveless shirt that hugs hugs his body tightly, followed by a blue hawaiian shirt that sits loosely on his upper half. His lower half is adorned by simple swim trunks, and you do your very, very best to not stare at his calf muscles.

"I, uh..." your voice trails off, in a haze from how attractive he is as well from your fading drowsiness. You rub your eyes once under your glasses before responding. "It's okay, I don't know why I didn't get up earlier," you huff to yourself, looking down, "I thought I would."

"Don't worry about it," Minghao murmurs, and he brings a hand up to your head on top of your hair to ruffle it a bit. You might just scream. "It's good that you slept," he continues, walking back to the living room as you follow him. "We thought you'd wake up from how loud we were," he says with a chuckle as you enter the room with everyone else in it as they turn to you.

"Yeah," Seokmin agrees through a mouth full of muffin, Joshua lightly hitting his shoulder and chiding him for talking with his mouth full.

"She's awake!" Jeonghan cheers playfully.

"i know Vernon said you'd sleep through anything," Chan begins to admit, "but literally do not understand how you didn't wake up until now. I swear, there was a moment where Soonyoung was just screaming at the top of his lungs and we were all wondering if that was gonna get you to come out but Vernon didn't even bother to check."

Your face burns at the comment, but there's a warm sort of feeling that bubbles up in you when they all laugh—it's not a mean laugh, no, it's friendly and it's kind, and it's making you feel welcome.

"You guys just don't listen to me," Vernon huffs, tossing you an orange from the kitchen. "We're going to head out in like five minutes," he tells you. "We need to figure out the car situation because I think Wont's car and Joshua's can only five each and mine can hold four."

The next few minutes are spent trying to figure out who's going to go in which car, everyone deciding that Seungcheol, Seokmin, Chan, and Jun would be going in Wonwoo's, Jeonghan, Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Minghao would be going in Joshua's, and Mingyu, Seungkwan, and you would be going in Vernon's. You won't and say that you aren't a teensy bit disappointed that you don't get to sit with Minghao, but the beach is only a twenty minute's drive away anyways, and you feel this is also a chance to get to know Vernon's other friends better too.

The car ride is fun, and you enjoy Seungkwan's cheeky remarks to everything, laughing along to pretty much everything he says, as well as Mingyu's oddly calm hyperness...? You aren't sure how to explain it but there's a constantly endearing and jumpy aura radiating from the tall boy, yet he seems quite tame for the most part. Nevertheless, you're entertained and excited to spend more time with them as Vernon parks the car on the beach, pulling out his phone so he can figure out where the other's are.

"Ah" you murmur, as the fourteen of you are grouped up finally, making your way into the hot sand and towards the water. "This is like the perfect weather for the beach," you say, wiggling out of your slippers so you can walk on the sand with your bare feet. Seungkwan is standing next to you as you both trail behind the rest of the crowd a little, the both of you immersed in the warm feeling of sand between your toes.

"I love the beach," he says, throwing his head back to look up at the bright side. "I'm from a beach town, so when I found out that the beach—and all my friends—were here, I just had to move here too, you know?"

"The beach is nice, but I won't lie, it always makes me so exhausted after I spend a day out here," you admit, dragging your feet across the sand, basking in the hot feeling it brings. "Who knows, I'll probably go home and sleep so hard tonight that even Vernon might think I'm dead," you joke, causing Seungkwan to chuckle.

You two continue to talk about the beach and Seungkwan's home town as your group nears the water, everyone beginning to set up their towels and the picnic blankets you bought. Everyone helps out, and before you know it, Mingyu, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Seokmin, and Seungkwan are ripping off their shirts and running towards the water. You watch them with amusement, standing up to shimmy out of your shorts and shirt.

Vernon looks at you, speaking, "You were able to get a swim suit?" he asks, confused considering your conversation with him last night. You smile somewhat sadly, and Minghao, sitting next to Vernon, can't help but notice.

"Uh, not really," you mumble, looking down at your black bikini. "I think Jungho just never knew about this one so I didn't get rid of it, and it was just shoved in the back of my closet or something. Anyways, I'm burning and I really want to get into the water," you conclude, turning around without giving Vernon a chance to respond.

As you run off into the water, Minghao turns and looks at Vernon him. "Who's Jungho?" he asks, shameless about his curiosity.

Vernon frowns as soon as he hears the name, and Minghao wonders just what kind of person this Jungho guy might be. "Just some ex. A really shitty one," Vernon murmurs, looking out at the sun. Minghao feels something uneasy churn inside of him. He gives Vernon that look, which tells him he wants to know more. "Like he just sucked. Didn't treat her right and shit. I didn't like him at all. None of her friends did. He tried to get her to throw out all of her swim suits and stuff because he didn't trust her at the beach or some bullshit like that."

"Goddamn," Minghao hisses, leaning back on his hands as he watches you play in the water. You looked like you were having so much fun—you were so at ease. He wants to chide himself for looking at the way your skin glistens in the sun, your bikini hugging your body in all the right places and in all the right ways. He knows he shouldn't be thinking about you like this, especially when he's only just met you a week ago, but that isn't to say he hasn't missed your quick glances. The way your eyes dart towards him, his body, his eyes, his lips, and quickly jump away when you realize he's caught you.

You feel the same way, he's sure of it. Minghao knows you feel the same tingles, the same sparks, the same rush of pure happiness when you see each other.

His thoughts are interrupted by Joshua speaking. "He made her throw out her swim suits?" he exclaims incredulously. "Insecure much," he mutters under his breath, and Minghao laughs along with that. "Good thing he's just her ex now—that sounds horrendous."

"Agreed," Minghao replies while Vernon nods, standing up to pull off his hawaiian shirt and top. "I'm gonna go into the water," he tells the rest of his friends before jogging lightly, following in your faint footsteps.

You're feet hit the water, and you stop in your tracks as you take a few moments to get used to the temperature change. You're looking up to see Seungkwan and Jeonghan waving you over to around twenty feet further into the water, but you call out to them to tell them to wait a second as you just melt in the feeling of the water against your toes. You stand there for a few moments before you hear a familiar voice coming up from behind you.

Oh. My. God.

You don't even want to turn around because you're scared of your reaction to seeing him shirtless—god, you aren't even sure if you'll be able to contain yourself! You think if you pass out, you'll just have to blame it on the heat, but still, how are you going to be—

"Hey," Minghao says cooly, stepping next to you in the water and holy crap, he's toned and he's practically glowing in the sunlight, the shadows hugging every peak and curve of his chest, his arms, his hands, his collarbone, his v-line—oh my god you need to stop. Practically ripping your eyes away from the wondrous view that is Minghao's body, you're forcing yourself to look up at his eyes (not that it's any less of a view—his eyes sparkle just as much as he does).

"H-hi." Did you just stutter? No fucking way you just stuttered. You think you might have to drown yourself right now. "I thought you were going to stay around with the others a bit longer," you say sheepishly. Minghao smirks at you, and he thinks now is his chance to try and fluster you up a bit more.

"Well I can't just let a pretty girl go into the ocean by herself, now can I?" he replies smoothly, taking a few steps in front of and waving you to follow him, and you would only if you hadn't just stopped breathing. How could he say that so casually!? How could he—wait. Wait! He just called you a pretty girl. He thinks you're pretty. Xu fucking Minghao finds you pretty, and he's saying it to your fucking face. You actually might die right now.

You can't even formulate a response, just tearing your gaze away from him and smiling shamelessly at the ground as you follow behind him slowly. Mission accomplished, Minghao thinks to himself, and something inside of him goes batshit crazy by seeing you so smiley and undone.

"W-whatever," you finally say as the water near to your hips as you two start nearing the others guys who are currently splashing each other with water. Minghao watches them, and get an idea, playfully splashing some water your way. You jump back quickly, eyes widening before you gasp. "You did not!" You quickly splash water back, but Minghao seems to see it coming and he moves out of the way. "Get back here!" you yell, running after him as he nears Mingyu, hiding behind the larger boy. With your eyebrows, you pay no mind to this, continuing to splash water everywhere, hoping that at least some of it will get on Minghao.

Mingyu puts his hands up, eyes scrunched up as he tries to block the water that's inevitably going his way. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Not me! Not me!" he cries out as the others laigh.

"Get Minghao!" you call out to the other boys who catch on quickly, joining you on your rampage against Minghao. Eventually there's just so much water splashing everywhere that within minutes you're all spent, gasping for air as you all try to rub the water away from your eyes. Once your vision is no longer blurry, you blink hard a few last times before turning your vision towards Minghao again and holy hell, you didn't think he could look any hotter than he did sitting in the sun but wow. His hair is wet and hanging low on his forehead but it's so messy and so hot and all you can think about is running your fingers through those locks yourself and making a mess in your own little way and—okay stop, you can't be thinking about this, especially not in public.

It takes a moment for you to fully calm yourself down before you're laughing with the other guys as they start to play a new game. You try to ignore the butterflies you get whenever you near Minghao, but it's a painfully hard task. You grow to accept the feeling as the minutes go on, simply existing alongside the bubbly feeling instead of pushing it down.

The next hour is spent in and out of the water, everyone else eventually joining those of you in the water, and you find that time is passing faster than you can even think. Time with them is fun, it's carefree, it's liberating, it's refreshing. Once you're all too tired and too spent, you're trudging back to the little spot you all have set up as everyone begins to pull out the food they packed. As you snack on your lunch, the fourteen of you sit in a circle and talk about the plans for the rest of the day.

"Let's play beach volleyball," Wonwoo suggests after everyone's finished eating, and it's no doubt that everyone else pretty much agrees immediately.

"Yeah, I saw a court in that direction, and I'm sure we'd be able to find a ball," Jihoon adds on as everyone stands up.

"I think i'll stay behind," you tell them all, leaning back on your hand as you fan your face with the other. "I'm kind of tired and I think I just need to sit down for a bit," you explain.

"That's okay, but you sure you won't be lonely," Vernon clarifies as he stands up.

You shake your head, but right before you're going to respond, Minghao speaks up. "Don't worry about her, I'll stay behind too." God, someone save you—your poor heart can't take much more of this.

"Oh okay, great!" Joshua says happily, the others standing up as well to go follow Jihoon to the volleyball court. "Catch you later!" You and Minghao wave at the rest as the drift off into the distance before being left in the silence that sits between you.

Minghao speaks first. "It's nice that you came, it's refreshing to have someone new, especially if they're like you."

You raise a brow at him, turning your body so that you're completely facing him, legs crossed as you lean forward. "Like me? What does that mean?"

Minghao gives you a sly smile, like he was expecting this. "Fun. Easy-going." He pauses. "Pretty."

"Is this your way of flirting or do you just enjoy being very direct about what you're thinking."

He laughs at that, throwing his head back. "Nice one. Those two are actually the same thing for me, so take that as you see it," he says with a shrug. You're face is on fire, and you're sure he can tell by now. Minghao catches on and he leans forward. "Is it working?"

"Maybe it is," you murmur nonchalantly.

"I think it definitely is," he shoots back with yet another smirk. God, you can't do this anymore. He's just so close to you and you don't know if it's because it's hot or if you're flustered or whatever but you're burning and not thinking straight and before you know it you're leaning in so close that you can feel Minghao's soft breath on your lips, stopping right before you two can connect.

It's the silent words now: kiss me, kiss me Minghao, and you almost think that this is true love when he leans in immediately after, heeding your silent requests.

Minghao's lips are plump and soft and taste slightly salty from the remains of the ocean water, in contrast to the sweet way he's got one hand cupping your chin. His thumb strokes at your skin and the touch is so light that you think you might go insane, gripping onto one of his biceps as you try to ground yourself in reality—in this moment, that you're scared might almost just be a figment of your imagination.

News-flash, it's not. In fact, this moment is very much real, very much happening, and very much one of the closest things to heaven you've experienced.

When you pull away, his hand is still on your chin and yours still rests on his arm. "I won't lie," you whisper, "I've been thinking about doing that all week."

"Me too," Minghao admits almost immediately, the revelation sending both shock and relief coursing through your veins. You let go of his arm, finally, and he drops his hold too, but you scoot closer to him so you're not sitting side by side as you face the ocean. "We shouldn't do anything else right now," he says quietly, and you know he doesn't have to say to know what you're both thinking. "I don't think you'd want the others seeing anything."

"You're right," you say with a nod, but you still interlace his fingers that are next to you with yours on the ground. Minghao squeezes your fingers back slightly in confirmation that this is very much okay. "Do you want to get something to eat? I saw some people selling fruit on our walk through the sand," he suggests after a few moments. You nod along, shuffling through the pile of clothes that are everywhere so you can find your shorts—it's sp warm out right now that your skin and swim suit have already dried off.

While you're fishing out your shorts and slipping them on, Minghao finds his hawaiian t-shirt and slips it on, although his bare chest is still very much on display, despite your poor heart's cries for him to cover it up—no! Don't let anyone else see! You blush bashfully at your newfound jealousy of others seeing Minghao the same way you do, but those thoughts are soon pushed away as he reaches out a hand to you to help you stand up. You grab his hand with a smile, following after him as you both head toward the fruit stands at the front.

"What do you want to get?" he asks you when he sees you squinting to try and see what they're selling.

"Pineapple!" you cheer when you realize one of the stands has your favorite fruit, and Minghao can feel his heart swell at the sound. "Can we please get pineapple? It's my favorite fruit and it's the best for hot days."

Minghao smiles and nods, and your heart nearly pops out of your chest. "Pineapple and mango?" he suggests as you stand in front of one of the stalls, pulling out his wallet. You nod before thinking for a moment, pulling out your own wallet before he has a hand a hand on your waist, pushing it away. "I'm paying," and it's not a question when he says it. You slowly push your wallet back into your pocket, mind racing with the thoughts of how a man can be as perfect as Minghao.

"Okay well," you reply, pulling your wallet back out in defiance, "I want to buy some fruits for the others too," you explain. "And I don't think it's fair for you to pay for all of that."

Minghao huffs, letting go of your wrist before turning back to guy at the stall. You two end up splitting the cost of five cups of fruits before returning to the set up on the sand that you have with your arms much fuller than before. Back once you're both sitting, you chat about whatever and you definitely forget how to breathe the multiple times that Minghao picks up a toothpick and feeds you the fruits himself. There's something so domestic and so comforting about the way you both smoothly speak, move, flow—being with Minghao is languid and despite your racing heart at the thought of being with him, you feel...relaxed.

This feels right.

After around an half an hour of talking, you find yourself laying on your back as you have Vernon's hat on top of your head as you listen to the ocean. "Should we go to find them? They'll probably be hungry by now and beach volleyball is starting to sound fun," you say, sitting up and readjusting Vernon's cap on your head.

"Bored of me already?" Minghao teases, sitting up as well, readjusting his shirt.

You roll your eyes. "You know that isn't it. The fruit isn't gonna taste as good later, even if we keep it in the cooler. It tastes better fresh," you reason.

"Fine fine," he murmurs in defeat and you grin, getting up to pick up two of the cups of fruit while Minghao grabs the other two.

"You know where they went?" you ask him, looking to your left and right, trying to recall which direction the boys left in.

"This way I think," Minghao says, pointing to your left and you squint, nodding excitedly when you see some volleyball courts in the far distance.

"Wow, that's pretty far," you think out loud as you both start walking in that direction.

"Can't handle it?" he coos, looking down at you as he takes his effortlessly long strides.

You scoff, turning your head away as you feign nonchalance. "Whatever."

"I'm joking," Minghao says quickly, reaching one hand over to pick up the cups of fruit your holding so that he's holding all four now. You're about to protest but he simply turns his arms away from you so they're out of your reach.

"Thank you," you say sheepishly, holding your hands behind your back as you two begin to speed up your pace when you both realize that the fruit will grow warm soon. It takes around seven to eight minutes for you guys to reach the volleyball courts, calling out to Vernon when you reach hearing range. "We brought fruit!" you yell, pointing at the cups that Minghao graciously carried for you.

The boys run over, almost all of them in a panting, sweating mess.

"It's like you read our minds," Seungcheol tells you and Minghao, picking a strawberry and stuffing it into his mouth.

Seokmin nods along, picking up a piece of mango. "We were just talking about how we're already hungry again."

"Yeah," Chan agrees, "and I think Mingyu was gonna pass out in the next five minutes if you didn't bring him something to eat." You all look at Mingyu who's sitting across from you, legs out and upper body leaning on his arms behind him as his face is scrunched up—he nearly looks like he's dying.

"Fuck you all!" he groans, falling back onto the sand. "I swear, Jun and Cheol were targeting me! They kept hitting the ball in my direction!"

Jun laughs at that, throwing a hand up to Seungcheol for a high-five. "Damn, I didn't think you'd catch on."

"How could I not!?" Mingyu whines, sitting up again to pick up another fruit. "I was on the verge of the death because of you guys."

Jeonghan ticks his tongue as everyone laughs, "Ah, don't be so dramatic Gyu, we were just having fun. Plus, who doesn't want to win."

Mingyu grumbles as he kicks some sand Jeonghan's way as everyone retreats back into the normal conversation of the plans next. After a few moments of discussion, you all decide to go back to your set up and stay there until sunset before heading home.

Once you all make your way back, the hours are spent chatting, building a moat (Mingyu and Chan seemed especially interested in this for some reason), and playing in and out of the water. As the sky begins to merge from blue to yellow to a deep orange, you begin cleaning up. At the moment, you aren't sure who brings it up, but the word "sleepover" gets thrown around and everyone is practically on their knees, asking to sleep over at Vernon and your place.

"Why our place?" Vernon complains. "Why not Minghao and Jun's? Or Joshua and Jeonghan's?" he begins throwing out the other's names.

"Because we like yours the most," Joshua says simply, everyone nodding their heads vigorously in agreement. Vernon huffs and looks at you for help, but you only shrug—you aren't sure how to respond to this and you aren't going to pretend like you aren't a teensy bit excited about the chance of Minghao spending the night (even though there'll be 12 other guys in your home).

"You guys owe us," Vernon finally says with a deep sigh, "big time."

The car ride back begins by Vernon, Joshua, and Wonwoo yelling at all of the passengers to not get sand into the car, and while you all desperately try to heed by their wishes, it's nearly impossible. You should've expected that nothing with this group is ever especially peaceful, but you're pleasantly surprised by how every event with them somehow has you bursting into laughter until your stomach hurts.

When you all return to your apartment, it takes a messy, chaotic hour or two for everyone to sort out when they would be taking showers, realizing that you should have planned this better once you knew that fourteen people would be scrambling to try and use your and Vernon's single shower. Once you're all washed up, you're left sitting in the living room, trying to figure out how you're going to pass the next few hours. Of course, one brings up Mario Kart, and suddenly they all perch against the couch trying to see who can beat Wonwoo.

It's now when you start to feel the exhaustion of the day catch up to you, recalling how you told Seungkwan that beach days make you tired. You excuse yourself to your room, locking the door behind you before slipping under the covers and nuzzling against the pillow.

In the silence—well not really silence, since apartment walls are thin and boys are loud, but still—of your own room, you find yourself catching a moment for you to properly think. And then it all comes crashing onto you.

Minghao. His lips, his eyes, his arms, his hands, his fingers, his lips (yes, his lips again), his touch, his gaze—and holy hell do you need more. You almost whine out loud into the sheets at the thought of having to wait for him any longer, your brain fuzzy from both your exhaustion and the tingling feeling that courses through your nerves.

Your mind races through the endless possibilities of what has happened and what can happen and before you know it you're falling asleep.

It's two hours later at around 8pm when you hear your phone buzzing by your chest, hardly lifting your head to see who it is. When you recognize the caller as Vernon, you hit the answer button, putting minimal effort into lifting the phone up to your ear as you grumble.

"God, do you ever stop sleeping?" he huffs on the other end, and you can faintly hear someone in the background laugh. You rub your eyes as you push yourself out of bed, rummaging through your drawer to pick out a cardigan to throw on.

"Sorry," you grumble with a yawn. "Beach days make me tired."

"I can see that. Anyways, we're in the living room ordering takeout, so hurry up if you want to have your choice," he threatens playfully.

"Alright alright," you mumble, trying to make your bed a little neater before leaving your room and heading towards the living room. They're all there, as expected, some movie playing on the TV as Jihoon is playing something on the guitar (where the hell did he get a guitar from?!) and Wonwoo and Mingyu are playing yet another game of Mario Kart on the Switch tablet.

"And she's here!" Chan exclaims, causing some eyes to turn to you. Minghao, sitting on one of the chairs at the kitchen island turns to you quickly, and the eye contact has you turning into mush immediately.

"When you went to your room," Vernon begins to say, distracting you from your thoughts and placing a hand on your shoulder, "I thought you were just going to chill for a bit. I didn't expect you to be napping."

Seungkwan comes in and swats Vernon's hand away from you. "You're so judgemental Sollie! Let her be!"

"Thank you Seungkwan!" you agree immediately, turning to raise an accusing eyebrow at Vernon. He rolls his eyes and steps away, holding up his phone which has the food order on the front screen.

"Hey, I'm ordering your food!"

You step back, putting your hand sup in surrender. "Okay fine! Fine! What are we getting tonight?"

"Mexican!" Jeonghan calls out. "It's my treat!" Everyone cheers as you tell Vernon your order, sitting down on the ground in the living room as everyone bunches up in the middle to begin discussing the next big problem you all have—sleeping.

It seems like no one quite thought this out earlier but your apartment is small and fitting fourteen people into this space seems near impossible, especially when you know that they'll all insist on you sleeping alone in your own room. It's a hassle to pull out all the extra pillows and bed sheets that you have, everyone trying to clear space to make as many makeshift beds on the ground as they can.

Somehow, you're all able to fit eight "beds" in the living room, Chan and Seungkwan being the lucky ones to squeeze into the extra space that Vernon has left on his bed and Jun and Jihoon calling the spots on the sofa and arm chair. From there on out, time seems to pass easily with the thirteen of them, and you're starting to understand how Vernon's been able to be their friend for so long. The hours pass quickly and by ten p.m., you're spent and tired from the day—too tired to go on.

Before you know it, you're helping them all make the final touches to the makeshift beds, bringing out as many extra comforters as you can in hopes to make sleeping on the ground a bit more comfortable. Bidding goodnight, you wave to them all and retreat to your room, but not before staring at Minghao for maybe a little too long. He stares back, of course, and anyone else would miss it, but you don't—the way he nods slightly, before turning away to say something to Jun.

III. OUR DAWN IS HOTTER THAN DAY

It's eleven when you hear the knock on your door, and it's embarrassing how quickly you scramble out of bed to open it. On the other side, as expected, is Minghao. You're pulling him in without a second of hesitation, grabbing his neck and slamming his lips onto yours hard. His hands are making their way onto his hips immediately, moving up and down along your waist and torso to feel every inch of you that he can. You've both been waiting for this for ages, and it's about time you lose control.

"Hao," you whine softly as he presses you into your wall, his tongue running against the corner of your mouth. His only response is kissing you deeper, teeth clashing as you seek to explore every last bit of each other. Minghao swears he feels his dick twitch at the way you call him by his nickname, his fingers tightening their hold on you.

"You'll drive me crazy," he murmurs, kissing down your neck as you run your hands up and down his arms to feel the curve of his arms.

"That's the—ah—plan," you grunt as you sucks at one spot on your skin. Minghao continues peppering your skin with kisses before you feel like enough his enough, intertwining your fingers in his hair and pulling his head up so he can look at you. "Can I suck you off?"

Minghao is, undeniably, taken aback by your forwardness, and while his head his telling him to take his time with you right now, his other head is telling him to give in. In any other situation with any other girl, he would be denying you, taking his time to at least finger you first but he's been too pent up and too horny since the first time you kissed him to say no.

You're surprised when he quickly nods—you aren't the type to dive right into this kind of stuff but Minghao has been doing something that's reconnecting the wires in your brain, causing the overwhelming urge to sink to your knees for Minghao to crash into you.

The second you're on your knees, you have your hands on the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down at once with his boxers to reveal his length, long and pretty and hard with a bead of pre-cum dribbling off the end. You reach up, holding the base with a hand as you look up at Minghao to meet his eyes.

"Fucking hell," he groans, throwing his head back before you reply with a hiss.

"Quiet! They can't hear," you remind him, before adjusting yourself on your knees so you're in a better position to prod his tip at the front of your mouth. You drink in the way Minghao's breath hitches as your lips wrap around him, tongue swiping at the tip softly before pulling back.

"Don't—" he takes a deep breath, "don't be a fucking tease."

"'m sorry," you mumble, pulling your head back. "Can't help it." You kind of mean it and you kind of don't. Honestly, you aren't sure what to think—all you want to do is make Minghao feel good and do it now. Minghao notices the desperate glint in your eyes, and he takes this chance to wind his fingers into your hair, pulling it back into a makeshift pony tail so he can move your face in the face that he wants. The thought has you both going down into a spiral.

Minghao looks down at you so intensely that you think you just might cum from the look alone, but then he's speaking. "You okay with this?" he asks quietly, running a thumb along your lower lip with the hand that's not holding your hair back.

"Yes," you reply almost instantly, and your eagerness has his eyes darkening—you can see it.

"Fuck," he groans, leaning back again while he takes your hand that isn't wrapped around his length up to his thigh. "Tap twice if you want me to stop, 'kay?" You nod quickly, hoping Minghao will get the idea that you're beginning to grow impatient.

Message received, it seems because before you know it, Minghao is guiding your mouth back to the tip of his length, so you can take him in. Once you have your lips wrapped around him, he pushes you forward more, causing your eyes to widen as you realize he's nearly hitting the back of your throat. You take this as your chance to do exactly what you've been aching for, and you begin to bob your head back and forth.

The moan Minghao lets out is near perfection, and you're immediately encouraged to push more, to push deeper, to do whatever it takes to make him make that sound again. You're about to do it again before you feel your hair being tugged so that you're fully pulled off his cock. "Fuck," he chokes out, looking down at the sight of you with red, puffy lips and blown-out eyes. "Do that again," he demands, and you don't waste a second before you wrap your mouth around him and push down as far as you can. His hand is pushing at the back of your head, his soft words from above encouraging you to go harder to go deeper because you're his angel and he knows you can do it.

God, the words that are spilling out of his mouth are downright filthy but they're messing with your head and before you know it your moving your head back and forth in sync with Minghao's hips that are snapping forward slightly, causing him to batter the back of your throat. It's not the most comfortable feeling but the discomfort definitely not what you're thinking about when you hear Minghao's pants—his soft groans that escape his lips now that you've got him so desperate.

There's drool running down your chin and it's so messy but it's so hot and it has your pussy aching but you can't even think of relieving yourself—not when you can feel the vein on the understand of his dick against your tongue, not when his hand is laced in your hair with such a tight hold you think you might just pass out, not when you know he's so close to his release within minutes all because of you. "Fuck," he grunts again, snapping his hips once more, particularly harder and sloppier this time. "I'm gonna—fuck, I'll come soon."

Your jaw is aching by now but it doesn't compare to the throbbing you feel in your panties—god, you're going to go crazy. You use your hand to rub whatever of his length you can't fit in your mouth, using these last few moments to let Minghao jut his hip and shove your mouth further onto him and holy hell do you love it. You can feel it coming with the way he twitches inside your mouth and you can tell he's about to come when he pulls you off of him, before you're opening your mouth wide again, eyes silently begging him: inside my mouth.

It's like earliedirtr, when you kissed, except now it's so much more frantic, so much more ecstatic—Minghao hears your silent requests and only takes a second to push himself back into your mouth. You only need to suck once or twice before you feel it in your mouth—his cum, hot and shooting down your throat. He pulls out after that, you taking a second to swallow and then lick the glossy tip, your body filling with pride at the way you see his leg twitch.

"God—fuck," Minghao finally manages to say between sputtered breaths, "You're so hot." He pulls you up by the arm as he slips his boxers and shorts back on, placing a hand on your hip as he brings you up for a fierce kiss. Your lips are all swollen and Minghao is extra gentle with the way he runs his tongue along them, kissing you so softly you almost forget that he just face-fucked you less than a minute ago. He's pressed up against the wall right now, but takes this moment to flip you both so it's you who's leaning back.

Minghao pulls away from your lips, chuckling at the way yours chases his in the few seconds after, before connecting his lips to your neck like earlier. "Let me give you something in return, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agree, nodding dumbly the second you feel his hand slip down your shorts, ghosting over your panties.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans as he pressed down through your panties.

"Hao," you moan, as he rubs little circles on your clit over the fabric, "please, please, hurry." Minghao chuckles and usually you'd be embarrassed but then again, there's nothing usual about getting fingered by your roommates best friend while all of his friends are asleep in the next room over. Minghao still is going slow with you, taking an extra moment to slowly push your panties aside. You're growing so impatient, the throbbing between your legs getting so impatient, that you think you might start sobbing. "I've been so good, Hao, please? I wanna cum," you beg, meeting Minghao's eyes as you look up at him.

God, you're doing something to him, he thinks—you might just be the death of him. You just look so cute and so desperate and the way your eyes are already glossy has his dick hard again. The fact that he didn't even have to ask you to beg for him is more than enough for a million thoughts to be racing through his mind, but in all honesty, the only thing he wants to focus on right now is making you come.

"Angel, fuck," he murmurs, into your skin, placing a kiss on your collarbone as he uses one hand to lift your shirt up to your neck so he can hold one of your tits, the other hand running through your folds so he can coat his fingers in your slit. "You wanna come?" he coos, prodding one finger at your entrance, and he thinks he might tease you a little longer but then he sees how quickly you respond and it has his resolve crumbling. He sinks is finger in and it's so long and so thick and reaches places in one go that you can't even even imagine of reaching with your own fingers.

You let out a deep sigh, instinctively grinding down on his hand so that your clit is also brushing against his palm adding to the stimulation. Minghao is gentle in the first few moments, moving his finger in and out at a steady pace before you murmur his name once more, causing him to push a second finger inside. "Oh my god, Minghao," you moan, and his eyes shoot up at yours, using the hand that was at your tits to cover your mouth.

"Quiet," he demands, as he continues to fuck you with your fingers. The sound of your wetness and his fingers against your gummy walls is echoing though the room and all you can think about is how dirty and how erotic this feels, and you moan again quietly again at the thought. Minghao's fingers still inside of you at the sound, and you feel your eyes widen and tear up once more. "Be quiet, or I'll stop," he murmurs, resuming his ministrations once he sees you nod.

"Minghao," you say quietly, throwing your head back when you feel him start to play with one of your nipples. "Feels so—so good," you hiccup, doing your best to keep quiet. He's fucking into you ruthlessly now, the pads of his fingers hitting spots you didn't even know existed, and you know your end is close by the way your vision nearly goes white. You grind against his hand harder, and Minghao picks up on the subtle movement.

"Gonna cum?" he breaths out and you don't even have it in you to say anything, your only response being your quickened movements. "C'mon angel, cum for me," he whispers into your ear and maybe it's his voice or maybe it's the way his fingers have you seeing stars or maybe it's the stimulation of your clit against his palm or maybe it's everything combined but you're cumming hard and fast within seconds around his fingers, and holy shit you think that might just be the best orgasm of your life.

You're left panting as Minghao's fingers slow down inside of you, twitching every few seconds from the overstimulation, before he's pulling them out of you and your panties completely. You want to hide your face, looking away when you realize how wet they are. "Why're you looking away?" Minghao asks, grabbing your chin so you can look at him. "It's hot," he tells you with a shrug, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, raising a brow. You're slightly embarrassed, yes, but you'd be a fool to try and deny him, opening up your mouth and suck your own wetness off him when he presses his fingers into your mouth.

After you swirl your tongue around him a few times, he pulls his hands back, replacing his fingers on your mouth with his lips, kissing you sweetly. You bring your hands up to his hair, moving your lips in unison as he places one hand on your waist, pulling your shirt back down to cover you.

"That was fun," you finally say when you're both pulling away.

"You're gonna drive me up a wall," Minghao mutters under his breath, taking a small step back. "But it was." He's silent for a moment before speaking again. "I'm gonna head back—wouldn't want anyone to wake up and find out I'm not where I supposed to be."

"You think someone would wake up?"

Minghao chuckles, and you feel those butterflies again. "You were pretty loud," he says, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of your neck.

"Whose fault is that again?" you ask.

"Dunno," Minghao says casually. "He must be super hot though."

You click your tongue as Minghao walks backward toward your door. "Hmm, I'll have to agree with that."

He smiles and kisses you hard one last time before ruffling your hair. "Sleep well angel."

a/n. not even going to bother reading this through because i'll get embarrassed. dw guys i'm working on a better hao fic soon >_<

#xu minghao #xu minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao drabbles #minghao imagines #minghao smut #minghao fanfic #minghao #seventeen imagines #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #📝 writing

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xanasaurusrex · 4 months

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Hey! I really like your writing, you write and detail characters so well... I would like (if it wasn't a bother, of course) if you would write something about Clarisse X daughter of Athena, this has been taking over my mind for a few days, and honestly, I'm dying to read a dynamic like this! 🫠 (sorry if my writing is a little wrong, my first language is not English 🫤)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ clarisse la rue x daughter of athena ࿐ྂ

clarisse la rue x athena!daughter a/n: i'm working on a longer request fic and it's kinda stressing me out so i decided to do some nice little dynamic headcanons so that i have something to post! this was really fun, and honestly i'm in love with this pairing and this particular post. i hope you enjoy! warnings: not proofread! arguments, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons wc: 1708k

it's important to mention that both ares kids and athena kids are very headstrong

they have strong opinions and are incredibly stubborn

this means that clarisse and an athena child partner probably started out as enemies

classic enemies to lovers

but honestly clarisse is the perfect character to do enemies to lovers with, like are you serious??

anyways

you and clarisse were enemies, sort of like academic rivals but more battle-y

obviously you were using your wits and stuff so it was somewhat academic on your part

but ares kids, specifically in battle, act purely on instinct

that was always sort of the battle between the two of you

whether to trust instinct or to think everything through

it wasn't until the two of you were cornered by monsters while on a rare day out from camp half blood, suddenly caught alone after the other kids from camp had wandered off somewhere else, that you two started looking at each other differently

there were times where both of you were certain you were going to die there, only to be narrowly saved by the other

almost dying at the hands of some crazy greek monster bonds people in weird sorts of ways

during the moments where one of you thought the other was going to die, you were both faced with the idea of living without the other

you realized that you weren't sure what you were going to do without clarisse constantly pushing you to trust your instincts, which had saved you many times, although you never before had wanted to admit it

you also came to the realization that you sort of liked your back and forth with her, and if she was gone, there would be no one for you to bicker with

clarisse was faced with the thought of not ever being forced to think things through again, and she was afraid of what would happen then

as much as she hated to admit it even to herself, clarisse couldn't deny the fact that you had gotten her out of trouble or kept her out of it multiple times just because you were able to think through the consequences of everything before clarisse could even think of anything bad coming from her actions

she also was forced to think about a life without your smiles, and your laughs whenever she said something dumb and you corrected her with glee evident on your face

neither of you liked the idea of life without the other

it was a strange revelation for the two of you to come to, and after you both came out of the fight with those particular monsters alive, things were awkward for a few weeks

everyone noticed, because you were both acting strange, not just around each other, but around everyone at camp

even chiron and mr. d noticed

and mr. d never notices anything

so that was kinda monumental

eventually, both athena kids and ares kids banded together to get the two of you together

they pulled an outer banks and locked the two of you in the weapons shed overnight

a few of the athena kids were worried about having their sibling locked in a shed full of weapons with an ares kid, but the ares kids weren't worried, considering they knew their sister would never hurt you, never in a million years

even when everyone was under the impression that you both hated each other, the ares kids knew that clarisse liked you on some level

also, she had just always held a sort of respect for you that she reserved just for you, not even for her siblings sometimes

so basically, super long story short-ish, you and clarisse are a thing now

you love each other, but you often butt heads

it usually has to do with the logic over instinct debate the two of you have been having since you were 13, but it's still going strong, the both of you still thinking that you're both right

clarisse usually lets you win the debate for the day, but the next she'll come back with another reason for why trusting your instincts is better than meticulously planning everything out, specifically in a battle sense

and realistically, clarisse is right

when you're standing there with a hellhound snarling in your face, you should probably just stab now and then worry about how bad your strategy was later

and she knows this

but she also knows that you like a good debate

you, as an athena kid, like using your intelligence and thinking through your argument to prove your girlfriend wrong

this whole spiel was to say that even though clarisse knows that she's right (and she freaking LOVES being right), she always secedes to you and then comes back the next day with a fresh new thing to debate with

just to entertain you

honestly, clarisse is obsessed with you

in a way that nobody thought she could be

even her

clarisse was surprised at how dependent she became on your presence in her life

she also brags about you all the time

when she's forced to go home to spend with her time, she always spends the whole time talking about you and bragging about you, and telling her relatives that you're the smartest person she's ever met, and how lucky she is that you would want to be with her

honestly, thinking of you is the only thing keeping her sane when she has to spend time with her mortal family

since the two of you are so headstrong, there are times when you get into legitimate arguments

capture the flag is always a very tense time in your relationship, partially because your two cabins are on different teams, which makes things awkward

the biggest thing is that clarisse always convinces herself that you need to be protected

she's tried a few times to get her team to take you "captive" and then just hold you in a remote place in the forest until the game is over and everything is "safe" again

clarisse is just so overly protective that it can feel a little strangling sometimes

you always have to tell her that you are able to protect yourself, and that you love playing capture the flag, so you don't want to be sequestered off into the forest, that you're not okay with that

you also sometimes have to remind her that you're not going to die playing capture the flag

it's literally against the rules

also, i know i've said this in other headcanon posts before, but clarisse is so cuddly

no matter what the pairing is with her, she always wants to either be folded around you, or have you folded around her

whipped!clarisse everyone

please applaud, because she deserves it

clarisse literally will do anything and everything for you

sometimes you'll just snap in her general direction and ask for something, and within seconds she's gently placed it in your hands with a kiss on the forehead

people get so shocked

it's hilarious

people hardly see clarisse as anything but the cold-blooded warrior on the battlefield, but you hardly ever see that side of her

you see her as your cuddly girlfriend that you occasionally have to pry off you just so you can go to the bathroom

another thing that is hardly ever talked about though, is how protective you get over clarisse

but not in the same way that clarisse gets over you

i feel like this applies to all clarisse pairings, but specifically athena pairings with clarisse

athena kids are not afraid to speak their mind, or tell others how they feel, or tell others how idiotic they're being

clarisse may be intimidating and scary, and nobody would ever say anything to her face, but people definitely say pretty mean things behind her back

granted, clarisse is a bit of a bully, but you know her under all that, and you do discourage her from her bullying

you know that it gets worse and more common when she's feeling stressed or anxious about something, so instead of running at her yelling, you try and find the root of the problem

anyways

you've seen how clarisse reacts when she accidentally overhears someone saying something mean about her

she looks akin to a balloon deflating, and you hate that

you just love her so much, you always want her to be happy no matter what

so there have been many times when you've stomped up to someone and given them a piece of their mind for talking shit behind people's backs

sometimes you add in something about how clarisse is one of the best people you've ever met, and that they should reevaluate their thoughts on her

you also occasionally add in (depending on the person) how they shouldn't be judging given their personality and how they treat others at camp

it always means to much to clarisse whenever you do this, because she's never had anyone to stand up for her before

she's never had anyone in her corner, and it means so much to her that you are

when she told you this, you practically burst into tears before pulling her into a tight embrace, telling her that you'll always be in her corner no matter what, and that you'll always be there for her

she then told you that she'd always be there to protect you, no matter what

you pulled away then and told her that the both of you will always protect each other, and clarisse almost cried when you said that

she's never experienced this all-encompassing and being-consuming type of love, and she isn't hating it, that's for sure

at the end of the day, you and clarisse are in love, and that's all that matters

yes, you have your ups and downs

you have your arguments

but what else can you expect? neither ares nor athena are really known for backing down, and you both got that stubborn trait from your godly parents

the two of you have no doubts that you'll be together forever and ever

honestly, if clarisse wasn't such a scary individual, your relationship would be a little bit gross

taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi @ravisinghs-wife

message me or comment if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

#percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue x athena!reader #athena child reader #y/n #❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚

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threewaywithdelusion · 10 months

Text

You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington.

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him.

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched.

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin.

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet.

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her.

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock.

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down.

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry.

Robin blushed.

Tammy turned back around.

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence.

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt.

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak.

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth.

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew.

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense.

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school.

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night.

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars.

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar.

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked.

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely.

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched.

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement.

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin.

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington.

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him.

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa.

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked.

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool.

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked.

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out.

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while.

Robin sighed, loud and long.

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy.

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised.

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting.

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real.

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space.

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend.

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye.

“Hi?” Robin answered.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley.

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow.

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him.

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked.

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said.

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question.

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted.

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step.

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock.

That was fair. Robin was shocked too.

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted.

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat.

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic.

Robin hated him.

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve.

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed.

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again.

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy.

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?�� Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again.

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think.

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell.

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with.

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her.

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything.

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway.

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny.

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her.

“It’s not about me,” Robin said.

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar.

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut.

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it.

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy.

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut.

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke.

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this.

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again.

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other.

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast.

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness.

“I did,” she said.

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down.

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool.

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her.

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully.

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there.

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard.

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention.

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room.

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers.

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile.

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment.

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson.

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers.

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda.

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers.

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side.

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare.

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said.

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward.

From there, they kept going around the circle.

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink.

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be.

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet.

Then it was Tammy’s turn.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes.

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s.

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly.

“Okay,” Tammy said.

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her.

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand.

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face.

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing.

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her.

“Truth,” Robin said.

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with.

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker.

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side.

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her.

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side.

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again.

Robin didn’t really believe it.

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in.

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever.

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her.

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce.

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian.

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her.

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her.

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her.

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl.

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester.

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up.

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it.

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips.

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing.

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other.

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss.

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this.

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss.

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth.

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression.

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference.

Someone wolf-whistled.

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him.

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said.

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for.

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe.

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss.

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy.

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock.

She kind of wanted to know more about him.

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand.

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them.

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain.

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had.

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side.

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss.

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said.

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle.

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real.

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school.

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes.

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said.

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before.

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased.

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird.

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough.

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said.

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?”

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said.

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend.

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ao3 #because ao3 is down #robin buckley #Steve harrington #carol perkins #stobin #platonic stobin #time travel fanfiction #mia writes fanfic

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