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#I can only think of like six options
strangesickness · 3 months
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getting a ps3 and a TV fundamentally changed me as a person. not because of all the new video games i suddenly had access to, but because of all of the movies i can now go out of my way to pick up once a week at the library that i've always had instant access to on my computer.
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daddysropepuppy · 6 months
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over a week ago i got tipped for the first time, and i haven't gotten the payout yet and the stripe website is really unclear when/ how much is needed for payouts and i don't wanna contact tumblr support bc i feel like they wouldn't like that i'm a nsfw account and my acc might be at risk :// after i enabled tipping i realized that it probably would've been better if i made a ko-fi . i think i wanna disable tipping and switch over to ko-fi, but i don't want the money in my stripe account to disappear so idrk know what to do . if any of y'all have any knowledge on this stuff i'd love some advice
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inkskinned · 2 months
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i don't mean to sound ungrateful, but as a content creator on this site, there's a part of me that's like. they absolutely just stole my work.
i'm not, like, unaware that tumblr has been shuffling downhill for years now. sometimes i play with the idea of switching platforms, turning myself into the shark. i often get tens of thousands of notes - i could be "doing numbers" on a platform that actually pays me to do so. i could have statistics that i could use to sell myself, i could rebrand and make content pay-to-play and make brand deals. i could have the other life, i mean.
but i don't want to. i like the quiet nature of tumblr. i like that it still feels like i'm writing poetry, not like i'm fulfilling ad spots. i like the community, and that i can sometimes still take someone by surprise and write something that really speaks to them. i like the tags and reading things like oh of course it's fucking inkskinned i love you inkskinned you gay mess. my girlfriend recently told me that people tag things "inkskinned" because they assume it is similar to tagging "creative writing". that's wild. i made this word up when i was 19, and have always assumed people tag me in things so i read it (and i often do). i have nothing but love and gratitude for you all, for this tiny scoop of family.
and i haven't made any money off it. i had opportunities, and i turned them down. i could have sold this thing like a thousand times. i thought about moving my work elsewhere - over and over and over i thought about it. i weighed each option specifically. but my tumblr felt like ... it's for you guys, only. if you're still here and reading this, you deserve to do it for free.
tumblr has now, most likely, skimmed my work (and yours) in order to make money. i will never see a single cent for that violation. something about landlords, i guess - my work pays their rent.
i just lost my job on valentine's day, and am working on scrambling for solutions. i am writing this to a blog that they will probably scrape with AI. and like, what number to do you think it was? do you think it was only a couple hundred thousand? no way it was close to a million, right? my time, effort, energy - it belongs to someone else now. how many silver pieces for them to completely sell out their user base.
and it's kind of like - funny? when it isn't very-sad. because i personally don't know what to do, ya know? i might as well move to a different platform, where my efforts are ai-scraped but could eventually pay me. where i know my privacy is the cost - but it could result in actual money. anyway. i need to figure out how i'm paying for meds. i need to email like six people about COBRA benefits.
my work is powering someone else's AI. it will be a beautiful fabricated poem, made from words i've already said.
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horangare · 7 months
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lucky girl
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pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader
content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers
in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)
warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature
wc : 14.9K words
note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request
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Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.
You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.
Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.
Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.
You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.
All of them except for him.
Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.
“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.
Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”
"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."
“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.
Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”
“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.
“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”
“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”
Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”
Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”
“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.
“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”
“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”
“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.
“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.
“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.
The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…
“Hey, new girl.”
You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.
“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”
“No.” You deadpanned.
His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.
“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.
“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.
“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.
“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”
Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”
“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”
“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.
“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”
Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”
You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.
Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”
“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.
“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”
“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.
“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.
“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.
“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”
Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.
You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.
By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.
Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.
What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.
The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.
“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.
Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.
“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.
“Promise?”
Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.
Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”
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The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.
Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.
He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.
You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.
So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.
Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.
To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.
Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?
“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”
The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”
“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.
Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”
Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”
“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”
Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.
Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).
“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”
You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.
“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”
Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn’t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.
You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.
“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”
“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”
The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.
“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.
“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”
“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”
“Sit.”
You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.
“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”
Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”
Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”
A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.
“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”
You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”
Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”
“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.
“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”
Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.
“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”
“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”
Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.
“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”
“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”
You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.
This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—
“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”
Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.
“I knew I could count on you.”
Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.
But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”
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When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.
In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.
He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.
I’m picking you up at 7:45.
Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.
Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.
He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.
“For you, maybe.”
“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”
So this would be an everyday thing. Great.
Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.
You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.
“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”
You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”
“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.
There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.
Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”
“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”
Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.
“I’ll be in the car.”
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So, about the visit to the gym…
It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.
Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.
“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.
You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.
“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”
That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.
“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.
“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”
Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”
“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.
“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”
Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.
“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.
The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.
Now you really couldn’t go back.
Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.
“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.
You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.
“I guess it has.”
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When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.
Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.
“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”
“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”
Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”
The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.
“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.
Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.
“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”
You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.
“Tell. Me. Everything.”
“Uh…”
“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”
You really hoped so.
For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?
Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.
“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.
Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.
“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.
“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”
“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.
“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”
And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.
“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”
Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”
“Jeonghan.”
Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.
“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.
But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.
“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”
You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You’ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.
“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”
You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.
“Coming!”
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Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.
You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:
good night [y/n] sleep thigh
You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.
So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.
“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”
You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.
“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.
“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”
“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”
Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.
“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”
“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”
“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.
“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”
Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”
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Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.
“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.
“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.
“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”
“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.
“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.
“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.
“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.
“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”
Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.
“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”
You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?
“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.
Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”
“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.
A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.
“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”
“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”
For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.
“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”
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Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.
“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”
“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”
“Shut me up then.”
Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?
His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.
“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.
Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.
He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.
“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.
His heart was beating just as fast as yours.
There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.
Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.
Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.
“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.
“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”
You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”
He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”
One promise kept, another one broken.
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“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.
“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.
It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.
In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.
So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.
“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.
There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.
“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”
“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.
“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”
Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.
The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.
“Do you think you could do me a favor?”
You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.
“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”
He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.
You’ve just come to two realizations.
1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.
2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.
You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.
“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”
“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.
The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.
“Did you miss me, Hannie?”
Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”
You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.
“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.
You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.
A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.
His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.
“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.
“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”
“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”
He really remembered that?
“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.
“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”
“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”
Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.
“You love me.”
Oh, if only he knew.
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Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.
The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.
“The fucking press is still out here?”
It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.
“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”
A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”
“I remember it being more than that, actually.”
He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.
“Are you nervous?”
“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.
“You’ll be fine. I promise.”
You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.
“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.
“Not like I have a choice.”
“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.
“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”
“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.
“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.
“Mom, please.”
“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”
“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”
You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.
“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”
You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.
You paused. Were you getting jealous?
“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.
“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.
“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.
Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.
"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.
Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.
"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.
“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”
“Isn’t she just a dear?”
“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”
And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.
Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.
You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.
“[Y/n]?”
You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.
“Why are you crying?”
He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.
“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”
“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”
You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”
His silence was painful.
“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”
“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.
Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.
“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”
The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.
“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”
The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”
A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.
“[Y/n]—”
“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”
Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.
“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”
“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.
“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”
You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.
It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.
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You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.
Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.
On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.
How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—
Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.
Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.
“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.
Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”
You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”
“I want to apologize to you.”
Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.
“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”
There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.
“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”
“I’m still upset with you.”
“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”
You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”
Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”
“…But what?”
His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.
“But what, Jeonghan?”
“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.
When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.
You breathed out a laugh.
“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”
His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”
“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”
“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.
“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”
“Yes, Hannie, please.”
Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”
“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.
“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”
“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.
“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.
Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”
He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.
“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”
“Just for you.”
He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”
Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.
You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.
“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.
He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.
You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.
“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.
“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.
“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.
“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”
Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.
He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.
“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”
His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.
“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.
He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”
“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.
“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”
You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.
There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.
His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.
“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.
“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.
“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”
His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”
“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.
Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.
“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.
“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
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chrollohearttags · 8 months
Text
fuck me like you hate me • eren jaeger x black fem reader
I know I said I hate seeing my babies fight but I’m tweaking over the idea of some nasty ass, filthy hate sex between eren and (y/n). Like imagine they’ve just moved in together, adjusting to living with another person and they have been walking around mad as hell at each other over dumb shit around the house and from work (him ignoring her for recording sessions and her on Instagram showing a lil too much for his liking). The tension is CRAZY. It explodes into a huge argument..they think about breaking up but instead, fuck their frustrations out, I—😫😫
content warning: very ROUGH sex, name calling, use of N-word (by reader obv) degradation, hitting, spit play, oral sex, fingering, backshots, slapping, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, implied dacryphilia,breeding, marking and spanking, riding, .2 seconds of switch eren, bunch of other shit omg just proceed with caution, does have a really happy ending and lots of aftercare 🥹
word count: 8.3K
📝: and forewarning before anybody can come leave a dumbass comment, this isn’t in support or condoning of toxic relationships, fighting, domestic altercations/violence, etc. and this will be my very first and last time writing something of this degree. Also, this is purely fiction and all of these aforementioned topics will only be slightly touched on without graphic detail, as they can be extremely triggering and sensitive. Again, read this at your own discretion! (And keep it very cute)
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut the fuck up..you want to post everything, let’s post this.”
the words spewed like venom from between your boyfriend’s lips. Much like the many times that he called you baby, princess..or said ‘I love you’. But lately, things had been a little less affectionate around the Jaeger household. It had only been six months since the two of you had moved in together. Taking your newly public relationship to the next level and committing to one another. It was supposed to be a joyous time yet it was the exact opposite! As of late, particularly in the past few weeks, the two of you had been at odds and each other’s throats to say the least. The anger constantly building and only becoming worse by the minute. So much so, the both of you had questioned if living under the same roof was a wise option and even more so, contemplated splitting up..but alas, it seems you found a better solution:
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet, baby.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
the whole situation arose not too long ago, stemming from the fact that he had been working nonstop on new projects. As happy as you were that he was back into his groove, you were sick of being ignored and neglected for a damn album. Shelved and discarded like nothing more than a toy. It was infuriating, especially when you went out of your way after your own gigs and busy schedule to cook him dinner and make him snacks; even trying to surprise the man with a few little..outtakes and teasers from your photo shoots. Preferably the ones where you were nude or playing with yourself. Did he pay them any attention? Hell no. In retaliation, you decided you’d give him a taste of his own medicine..by blocking him on Instagram and purposely posting some rather wild shit. Such as you practically tongue kissing your homegirl as you guys took shots at the pool. Or twerking in a new fit normally worn by dancers and sex workers…it didn’t help matters any when he had to see the sultry posts by proxy from one of his friends, who shared it with him while at the studio one night and when he confronted you about it, you could care less. Saying that maybe someone else would appreciate it if he didn’t. Which had him completely irate and the situation escalated further than it ever should have. But this festering fire of resentment didn’t just boil over today. This had been due to weeks worth of rising frustrations. Eren felt as if he had worked to curate his sanctuary and you were destroying that and you were pissed that he agreed to you living together when he obviously didn’t even want you there. But it all came to a head only a couple hours ago..
flashback
the two of you standing in the bedroom, arguing and going at each other’s throats. Shouting and screaming..it was a situation you promised you’d never find yourself in after your ex and today, you’d had enough. You were ready to leave..call it quits on this entire thing because you refused to be in another toxic relationship. Especially when you cared so deeply for this man. But no amount of love could make you stay in this.
“You won’t even tell me why the fuck you’re so mad! Walking around with a fucking attitude and I’m supposed to read your goddamn mind?! Be serious!”
“Nigga, I shouldn’t have to tell you shit! I waited on you for three hours, Eren! Three motherfucking hours..got dressed, done my hair and everything and you fucking stand me up like my time ain’t worth shit. You don’t give a damn about anybody or anything except that stupid ass music.”
needless to say, tensions were high…you were both angry and it was probably best if you guys stepped away and gave yourselves time to reevaluate the situation but instead, you were running on fumes and pure fire. Only making matters worse. Thank goodness no housekeeping staff was around to hear this altercation because you guys would probably be on the front page of TMZ. Either way, neither of you cared. Right now, you just wanted to vent and get your peace out before the other could. “You mean the same music that’s paying your bills? That’s buying you those fucking purses and hair? Surely, you’re not complaining about that. You damn sure don’t when you wanna spend the money.”
making your blood boil with rage and your eyes well with tears. “You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need your money or nobody else’s. The fuck you think this is? I got my own shit. While you were laid up in the motherfucking suburbs, I was getting to this shit long before I got famous and damn sure before I met you..if you don’t want me here then say that.” But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot and neither were you…no one wanted to admit they were in the wrong. “No (y/n). I want you to understand that I got business to handle. That I have obligations and if my boys gotta come tell me you’re out here kissing on bitches and entertaining other guys while I’m working then you go wherever you want. I’ve never chased anybody in my life and I damn sure won’t start now. Especially somebody who runs to the internet when they’re mad. Childish as fuck and no woman of mine is gonna have me out here looking stupid. Go be with whoever’s making you happy because it’s obviously not me. Hell, maybe you can work things out with your fuck ass ex since he won’t stop talking about you in his songs. I told you it was a bad idea for us to move in together right now but you just had to. Now look.” The words cutting like a knife clean through butter. Stabbing you in the heart with his hurtful words…you thought this was what he wanted as well and to find out that yet again, you were just another chore like everything else in his life, you were gutted. Not only that, he’d bring up your ex as if that relationship didn’t come along with emotional damage and physical scars. He knew how much of a sensitive topic that was for you and yet, when Eren got angry, he had a tendency to hit below the belt and do so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. With tears in your eyes, unable to hold them back, you’d begin screaming all over again, hitting his chest and trying to take out all your anger on him. Even as you slammed your fists against him, screaming that you hated him and slapping his cheek, he stood there unfazed. He knew your words were from a place of hurt and your actions were not the real you. You’d never raise your hand at him because you knew what that felt like. But feeling as if he didn’t care, you were distraught! So much so, you’d become blind with rage and act out of a place you promised to never go to.
“I fucking hate you, Eren! Swear to fucking God, bro!—all you do is make me feel like shit. If you didn’t want me, all you had to do was leave me alone!” Shouting as you swing your closed fists at his chest, banging on him and wailing as you cry. Screaming and shouting to the top of your lungs.
it was by that point, he’d had enough of being your punching bag. Looking away from you, he’d grasp your wrists, stopping you in your tracks and that only enraged you more. “Let me go, Eren! I’m not playing with you!” Alas, he didn’t say a word though. He didn’t even so much as look at you..staring through you like glass; just holding your hands in place to avoid your hits. Instead, he’d push you to the mattress and pin you back by your wrists. “Don’t put your fucking hands on me, I’m not repeating myself..I don’t play that shit, (y/n). Do it again and we’re done.” grimacing his teeth and leaning down against your face. He was a firm believer that if a relationship ever got physical, it was time to end it. He could never bring himself to put his hands on you, even entertain the thought of it so he wasn’t about to let you disrespect him and do the same. But your rage could not be quelled and instead, you’d start to kick around until he’d bolt your legs down as well. Staring at him like this…hair down, beard and mustache forming on his face, you could tell he hadn’t been himself either and right now, there was a far more primal energy about him. Energy that seemed like it could devour your ass alive if you pushed one more button. “Or what? The fuck you gon’ do? Pussy.” And in that moment, you’d find out just what he had in mind when you decided to spit at his face and in retaliation, he’d only laugh..much more than he should've..right before putting his hand around your throat, clutching it so tight that it causes you to gasp. Restricting your breathing in the process. Which forced your mouth open and allowed him to return it with his own saliva, seeping onto your tongue. With his knee placed between your thigh, brushing against that thinly clothed cunt, he knew you were wet..getting turned on for him even now. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Feeding you a couple slaps to your cheek as you begin to realize the gravity of the situation. “Answer me, bitch. You like spitting so much, I got something for you to use it on.” Suddenly, he’d begin to lean up, tugging at the top of your head next to adjust to eye level with his erection. With one fell swoop from his thumb, he’d tug his sweats down and right before you was his thick cock, standing at full attention. He didn’t want to feel your hands..nothing but straight mouth and throat and right now, he’d guide you as he saw fit. You were his toy right now…shoving that dick between your lips, he’d start to fuck that pretty, tear stained face like it was nothing more than a sleeve. He could hear the gurgling in the back of your throat and feel how hard you were trying but since you had so much to say, he was going to make sure you ate those words.
“What’s that, baby? Can’t hear you..” mocking you as he used your mouth to his heart's content. Balls slapping your chin and jaws suctioned around his shaft. You’d attempt to put your hands up to his hips but he’d slap you and make certain you’d never do so again. Sucking his teeth, Eren laughed as he watched you struggle to engulf all eight and a half inches of that thick girth. “Can’t pop all that shit with my dick in your throat, can you?” Asking rhetorically but he wasn’t done rubbing salt in the wound..you had truly and utterly pissed him off and for the last time. In haste timing, he’d retract from your mouth only momentarily to the sound of you taking sharp gasps and drooling all over yourself. He’d force your head to the edge of the bed, where he’d crawl over and continue his brutal face fucking. But not before he spat in that oral cavity once more, looking at you as if you were nothing more than an object. Bucking his hips and thrusting as if it were an inanimate toy lying in front of him. Your insides were matching the sensation of that of a flesh light, maybe even better. By the time he got into it, a bulge began to form in the center of your esophagus. And try as you might to swat at him, he’d tell you to place your arms by your side and not move them until he stated otherwise.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re messing with, princess. I don’t know which bum you’re used to fucking but don’t you ever try that shit with me again. There’s a reason I said I don’t chase anyone. Why would I when I know I’ll have you crawling right back?” and he was right! This man had done things to you that would have any woman stalking him and sitting in his bushes. Even so, you were still pissed off and not much in the way of taking his shit lying down. So as he twitched slightly in your throat, you’d begin to gurgle and gag on his dick, doing tricks to inevitably make him tap out. Grasping the top of your head, he’d tug his shaft from between your lips and spin you around until you were flat on your stomach, and glaring up at his face as he gripped your chin. “You can fuck half the guys in the game and not one of them would ever make you feel the way I would. That pussy will always belong to me. Stop pretending you don’t know that.” His words were so condescending, it made you want to scream but you couldn’t disagree either. Eren always had a nasty habit of playing on people’s psyche and getting under their skin with his words. He was the type to read someone down and not miss a beat. When he was angry, nothing or no one was off limits. Tears were already streaming from your eyes and throat already sore from his brutal handling but he didn’t care. “So I’ve got a great idea…” looking straight past you, he’d extend an arm and lay a heavy handed slap across your backside, still tugging at your hair without any sort of regard for it. “We’re not leaving this room until you and I fix this.” He’d take a moment to clutch his other fist around his cock; tapping it against your tongue, which was hanging out. “Until I fuck you so stupid, you forget what you were so mad about. How’s that sound?” Patting your cheek and inflicting sharp slaps to your ass, causing stinging pain. Along with sensations to your pussy. Proving his words to be true.
Trails of saliva pooled..dribbling from your mouth. Gagging noises constantly arising and filling the room as he relentlessly and disrespectfully fucked that pretty face. At the same time, he’d reach forward so that he could slide two digits inside of inviting heat. Pushing those fingers in and out at an intermediate pace. He’d rub on the sensitive bud with his thumb and pump the other two profusely. You’d slowly start to rut yourself on them, unable to resist him for much longer. “There you go…good girl. I swear, you’re so much prettier like this. Sucking my dick instead of bitching…” he couldn’t help but to fling one more insult in there but trust, he preferred this to arguing any day. Any frustrations the two of you had could be left right here! Continuing to relentlessly fuck your face, Eren teased your little cunt for two reasons: one, because you couldn’t help but to whimper and the sensations caused your throat to spasm and two, he was preparing you for how bad he was going to beat that pussy up. When he finished, you wouldn’t have the energy to move, less known scream at him. He was tired of being at odds with the woman he loved. All too well did he know the pain of practically living with a stranger he felt nothing for and he refused for you guys to turn out the same way. Too many laughs, so much love had been shared between you two for it to end now..
amid disassociating, EJ withdrew his fingers and fat cock from between your lips before telling you to lie on your back. “Spread those legs..” Earning him a side eye from you as those thighs parted to reveal that dripping center. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, aren’t you? Admit it.” Plump lips that were freshly waxed and soaking wet, just for him. There was no one else in this world that could get you so undeniably aroused and you both knew it. Raking his fingers through those long, thick locks, he’d crawl on to the bed; knees pushing through the mattress as he grasped your ankle and tugged you towards him. In that same, swift motion..you’d find your legs pinned back to the covers and feet practically behind your head. “She missed me, didn’t she?” That smug look on his features as he so casually stroked the hood of your clit. He wanted nothing else from you than to wet that beard up. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t as infuriated as you once were and that fiery spark had dwindled to a twinkle of adoration. But if he knew one thing about you..it was that you’d play coy until you couldn’t any longer. You’d fake an orgasm, pretend to not be turned on. Anything to make him feel inferior. Because you’d try everything to deny him that satisfaction of pleasuring you. You were stubborn, yes but far more aroused..too much to hide it, in fact.
“No, and I didn’t eith—ahh fuck!” Your mouth left agape as he shoved a digit inside and let one rest dormantly on the clit. “Exactly as I thought. Shut the fuck up.” Sitting down entirely, he’d keep your legs pinned back in one hand, as it was nothing with his strength. With all his pent up energy and frustration he’d normally use to fuck you dumb, he had been putting towards intense workouts the past few weeks. Trying to find a way to channel that anger in a healthy way to avoid doing something dumb. Working those two fingers in and out, pumping slowly..Eren made certain you were looking him in the eyes as he maneuvered that little cunt with the delicacy of his hand. Pumping and rubbing in a fluid motion as if it were second nature. Taking you gently by the back of the head, he’d hold you up and let you watch him work. “Shit—I’m not gonna come. If that’s what you want.” “You’re so cute, thinking you have a choice in the matter. Like I said, we’re not leaving until we fix this. So you can drop the fucking act.” Amid his declaration, he’d look you dead in the eye, peering right about your stomach and spit onto your pussy. Disrespectful and raunchy about it as well. He had no regard for you as his girl or even a person right now. You were an object..his little slut he was going to break and mold as he saw fit. “Take your eyes off of me again and I swear to God, you won’t get to come at all. You really don’t want to test me right now.” And something told you, every word seeping from his mouth was a pure fact. This man’s forms of punishment were hellish. One time, you made him so mad, that he fucked you for an hour straight, using a combination of various toys and his cock until you were in tears and refused to let you climax once. No matter how many times he stuffed you or nutted himself. By the time he granted you permission, it was like releasing the pressure on a tightly coiled spring and you nearly collapsed from the intense pressure.
so reluctantly, you’d bat those big brown eyes and fluttery lashes as you watched your man devour that tasty little center. Those jade eyes fixated on you; akin to a shark lying in wait just above sea level..stalking its prey. All you could hear were smacking, slurping and faint moans but what you felt were sensations of pure bliss. Slick had begun to coat the tip of his nose as he nuzzled it between your slit. His tongue lapped up every remnant of those syrup like fluids..sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. This man ate pussy like his life was on the line and it’d only be a matter of time before he had you as putty in his hands once more. Eventually, Eren would snake his palms up to your own and clasp them together, intertwining those fingers once he removed them, so that you two were holding hands. A level of intimacy that he only showed to someone he cared about. It was blatantly obvious that he still loved you..regardless of how angry you were. Especially when you heard him moaning and sucking on your clit, which inevitably made you melt in his grasp. “Mmmmph..fuck.” Whimpering so softly and slowly rutting yourself against his tongue. “That’s it..fuck my face, baby. Real slow.” The deep rumble in his voice makes you melt even now. Even when you were just screaming at him. Suddenly, your breath would hitch and he’d cause another pang of pleasure to rip through your body. His tongue flickered all throughout your folds and he’d leave gentle kisses on those lower lips. That’s when you felt more saliva on your quivering cunt, combining with your own sweet juices. Those eyes were beginning to cross, toes curling as they rested on his shoulders and that little hole, leaking like a faucet. “You taste so good…and I know it feels even better. Look at the way that shit’s leaking f’r me. Can’t even deny it..” As enjoyable as it was eating you out and normally, he’d stay down there forever, taking in your essence and flavor but for right now..he had to fuck the shit out of you!
suddenly, you’d feel that incredible oral come to an abrupt halt and Eren rising to his feet. Keeping that grasp on your thighs, he’d land a heavy handed smack to your ass and tell you to take hold of your legs now..as he had plans. “Keep that shit open. Hold them.” Demanding as he hovered above you..hand wrapped around his shaft; slowly pumping up from the base. Between using your throat earlier and eating you out, that dick was throbbing and thumping. He needed to be inside of you immediately or he was going to burst. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. You were a puddle of dripping sex and arousal for him. With your panties dangling around your ankles and tank top pulled down, he tugged them off and stuffed the thin material into your mouth. He couldn’t lie..it looked so hot seeing you in such a vulnerable state. But you were going to need it for how hard he was about to pound your pussy. Glaring at you with a smug smirk, he’d place a hand into the center of your belly before easing his cock inside of you..which elicited a heavy grunt arising from his throat.
staring into your eyes, he’d start out with sharp, deep strokes. Ones that didn’t even allow you to adjust to before that cock began to curve up and kiss the inner corner of your cervix. His pace was already rough and somewhat sped up. He didn’t care about your feelings or how it felt. The only thing he wanted to see was a mess made of him. Whimpering through muffled lips, your head would slightly tilt back, along with those watering eyes as your skin collided; sounds of clapping flesh filling the room. It was then that you’d feel his hand creep up to the center of your scalp, tugging you down so that you were forced to see him bulging through your skin so early on.
“Take this dick. C’mon..” never breaking eye contact as he continued thrusting. His hips bucking and moving in a rhythmic motion. He had no regard for any part of you right now..you were merely a hole, a vessel for his pleasure and that was it. That smug grin on his face gave it away.. “fuck!..so deep—g’ahh..why are you fucking me like this? Shit!“ belting out in a shaky whimper through the gag of those panties as you clawed through your own skin with your fingers and palms planted to the backs of your thighs. You’d bite down on them in an attempt to quell that sensation. Feeding you yet another slap, Eren proceeded to take that comfort away by pulling it out and shoving those same fingers into your mouth. “Fucking shame it had to be like this, baby. But you asked for it. Shouldn’t have pissed me off.” Even with sweat trickling down his forehead and very obvious moans escaping his lips, he was still cocky and arrogant to a fault. Even if the grip of that fat cunt swallowing him as he slid in and out had him faltering, he’d never be so weak as to show it..not at a time like this at least. Slamming that cock balls deep; your pelvises clashing with a sheath of creamy fluid molding them together, Eren leaned all the way forward and pressed his entire body weight against you..as some sort of makeshift mating press. Your eyes locked and his lips pressing to yours.
“But imma make sure you don’t have shit else to say when I’m done.” Laughing with all faith and confidence that he could magically make this all go away. However, you were still in a bit of a confrontational mood and decided to challenge him.
“Is that right? Well shut me the fuck up then. Make me be quiet.” With that all too familiar glare in those gorgeous brown eyes of yours. The one that you gave him when you needed some act right..the one that screamed for him to do his worst. “You think your dick’s that good? Please, you don’t know what to do wi—“ Luckily, he was up for the task and you had a rude awakening coming. Snickering, Eren pulled himself up by only an inch, still letting you pop your shit and all; just enough to allow him the room to place his hand around your throat and squeeze until your tongue was hanging out. Meanwhile, his stroke had slowed to a more sporadic pace; thrusts becoming far more uneven and short, yet everyone hit your spot with precision. All the while, his jade eyes never left your own. Suddenly, he’d make good on your declaration and before you knew it…
“Well that was easy enough..what’s the matter, princess? Cat got that tongue? You were so loud earlier..cussing and yelling at me like you’ve lost your fucking mind. Where’s all that energy now? Hmm?”
suddenly, the bed would begin to jolt around..headboard slamming against the wall and the entire frame shifting under the weight of his hard thrusting. Taunting and fucking as if he were attempting to put you through the mattress! Couldn’t support your own legs anymore? No problem because all one hundred ninety five pounds of him kept you in place whilst that third leg of his drilled into your tightness, facing zero regard for the way you were shaking underneath him. The way you pawed at his six pack only to be slapped away so viciously and your jaws to be squeezed in his clutch. “Move your hand!” You couldn’t get so much as a gasp out as he continued pounding your little sex with all of his might. Cream was profusely leaking..practically dripping down that dick and sack as he kept going. Your titties were swaying around outside of that tank top, bouncing everywhere and looking so good, all for his viewing pleasure. In addition to that expression on your face as you were obviously nearing your climatic peak. He found it so funny how quickly that shift came once he got up in it.
“That’s fine. I don’t need you to do shit else but nut on this fucking dick. You can handle that, can’t you?”
you didn’t want to cave..give him the sheer satisfaction of seeing you submit but you’d be a bold face liar if you said that shit didn’t feel amazing. Especially with that hand around your neck and that thumb on your clit..stroking so gently that the minute bundle of sensitive nerves were already overstimulated. That swollen little bud twitching underneath the touch. It didn’t help matters any when he allowed a slow string of saliva to trickle down onto it either. It was blatantly obvious that you were trying to deny him that orgasm and in turn, prompt him to come instead by clamping down on his shaft but in that same breath, it was clear that his resolve was a little stronger than yours. You always had a habit of nutting quickly which would be your downfall right now.
“You can try to hold back all you want, baby but you will come f’r me. I don’t give a damn how long it takes…stubborn ass always wants to make things difficult, I swear.”
so casually pointing out one of your character flaws as he resides in your guts..something only he would do.
“Ah!—haaaaaa..fuck! Fuck you..still a pussy.”
blurting out with all the strength you could muster, along with still attempting to push him away which was, again, of no use! Instead, it only fueled him further and lengthened your punishment. Reaching down for those panties you had spat out previously, he’d rope them around your wrists and bind your hands together. It was obvious he wasn’t fond of your disrespectful outbursts or foul mouth. It was going to make it all the more fun to wreck you however!
“Yeah and you're still a dumb slut. ‘Fuck did you think this was?”
still impaling you on that cock and feeding you more slaps in the process. You were folding and fast but you’d try to maintain the little semblance of control you had but sadly, it was dwindling and before long, you’d be unable to hold back. And that moment came a tad bit too soon for your liking because only a minute later, you were gasping for breath, wrinkling around in the sheets..a stream of sticky fluids squirting all over those abs as if you had sprang a leak. It went everywhere; wetting up his six pack and pelvis, absolutely flooding the bed but he didn’t care. That’s exactly what he wanted. To see you shaking and convulsing, so needy and dependent on his cock that you couldn’t function without him. And he was well on his way to achieving that with the way he just fucked the shit out of you. It was such a powerful orgasm that you’d begin to shed tears; overstimulated from attempting to edge yourself and failing miserably. You lacked the restraint for that sort of thing but it presented the perfect teaching opportunity as he was in the mood to train you anyways on what being disobedient got you. Pulling out for a split second, he’d allow that swollen shaft and seeping mushroom tip to flap against your folds and drum out more. You were inconsolable but the worst was yet to come. Grabbing you by your hair, he’d grasp it tightly whilst hissing and chuckling in your ear.
“I break brats like you for fun, baby. Remember that.”
before kissing your temple in the most condescending way; it was true, he was the literal definition of a brat tamer and done so with pride. In another sudden movement, he’d tug you by that freshly done hair that wasn’t so fresh anymore and pull you down until he had flipped you over onto your stomach. Keeping you reigned in with that fistful of 613 wavy; dyed and toned to a deeper blonde, Eren planted a heavy hand smack to your ass as he flayed you across his lap. Demanding that you arch your back and put your ass up in the air. It was in your best interest to follow instructions but you were dead set on being defiant. If for nothing else, get the treatment you had been so desperately craving. For him to fuck that attitude out of you!
“Lemme ask you something, baby. What did you really think was going to happen when you decided to pull that little stunt? Trying to embarrass me?…”
ensuring that you had no other choice but to look him in the eye with those fingers still intertwined between your locks as he tugged your head back. You were practically panting, drooling like the fucked out little whore you were. Mouth agape and eyes glazed over whilst he stared at you.
“What? You thought I was going to ignore that shit? Or maybe you thought I’d get jealous enough to hop online and clear it up. You thought I was the rest of these lame ass dudes. You’re as stupid as you are pretty.”
Uttering the last line with vitriol before landing the hardest slap to your backside he could muster. Spanking you a couple times with the same force until you were flailing around and more tears had fallen. You were gritting your teeth, trying to maintain that mean glare you were trying so desperately to portray to make it seem as if you were not enjoying yourself. But he knew that was a lie. His heavy hands colliding with your flesh eventually began to form a burgundy blip and quite the sting. In addition to being choked, you were starting to feel it. That pleasurable pain that came with rough sex. It was the only way he could get his frustrations out on you at this point because actual harm would never be an option for him. He just wanted to teach you a lesson..
“And you’re still acting like a bitch. Mad about a lil’ instagram story—“
blurting out before he began to spank you again and clutch your throat as well. This time with enough force to make you squirm and cry some more. Making sure you didn’t talk out of turn again. “Shut the fuck up.”
he could tell you were still angry with him, still wanting to get your point across but that was all of no concern to him. He didn’t care about your bratty ass attitude. It barely even phased him. That was until he saw those pretty little streaks coming down your face and those eyes all puffy. That jaw clenched so tight, it’d probably shatter your teeth. “Ooh..don’t look at me like that. Makes my dick hard when you cry for me.” Like a true goddamn sadist…of course, those tears weren’t enough and he had plans to drum out more. Continuing to paddle you with his hand; releasing primal grunts as he spread your ass apart, kneading his fingers into your flesh and even shove his fingers back into your pussy. Meanwhile, he was still filling your mouth with sloppy kisses and more saliva. Spitting into your oral cavity with no regard. “Get up..arch that back and spread that ass open. Now.” And this time, too sore and weak to do anything else, you’d follow suit and place both hands on that round bottom, letting your acrylic nails display across that dark skin as you opened up for him. He damn near lost his composure when he saw that asshole flexing and puckering on instinct. But he had to regroup, get back into his zone and keep going.
mounting behind you, Eren hooked his fingers together, kept them around your throat and pulled you back on him once again..impaling you.
“Haaa! Fuck!—“ yelping in a high pitched cry as he fed you heavy backshots. The fat of that round, plump ass bouncing against him. Ricocheting in a haze of thunderous claps. Your legs trembled profusely, gripping on the pillows in front of you and biting down in an attempt to quell the brunt of those brutal strokes but it was no use. The curvature of your spine fluctuated as he kept going until you eventually collapsed underneath the weight and he’d bog down, planking over your entire frame as he drilled deeper. Those balls colliding with your ass and smacking against the sticky folds between your thighs. He’d place a hand to the small of your back just to keep you planted firmly whilst the other rested palm down in the memory foam material in front of you. “Oh my gosh, right there!” You’d grasp for Eren’s wrist as some sort of leverage and a sign of comfort. But he wasn’t much in the business of coddling you right now. Instead, you’d watch that opposite hand snake around for a split second to retrieve your phone that was lying next to you..set ablaze with thousands of notifications from this app and that contact. None of which were important at the moment. But he had other plans and ways to use that cellular device right now.
“You love taking pictures so much, right baby? Always showing off..”
just then, you’d see the flash of your rear camera beaming down above you and hear the sound of your video starting. He’d record each movement of your clashing skin..tugging you back, spanking your cheeks with each thrust and even when he decided to slide his thumb into your puckering hole. You’d release a shrill cry, whimpering and moaning. It didn’t take long to realize what he was doing and you immediately tried to stop him.
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut up..you want to post everything, post this.”
taunting you with that lens pointed at your face as he began fiercely fucking up into you. So much so, that your face meshed into the pillows. Trying to look away from the camera. Drool spilling from your mouth and your eyes completely dazed..not the most aesthetically pleasing position you’ve found yourself in nor did you want the rest of the world seeing..
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
causing the two of you to begin laughing at the obvious truth. Which was far better than what was transpiring before.. “…shit..you got me.” eventually though, he’d save you from further embarrassment and let this sight be all for his own pleasure by tossing the phone aside. With your nails clawing into the sheets, (y/n) felt some semblance of control..somewhat able to gain leverage but soon, he’d take that away as well. Pulling your arms behind your back, he’d tug you up and continue drilling you from behind. Those sharp strokes were consistently hitting your core and soon enough, you were in the midst of another orgasm. Fluids puddling underneath you yet he gave you no leeway and just kept going. “Fuck..ion wanna fight with you anymore, princess. Your shit feels way too good for me to leave you alone.” Laughing as he reached underneath and massaged your clit to further increase that pressure. “Mmmph! Erennnn…I—“
it would seem that your pathetic moans had softened him just a bit because next thing you knew, he was leaning down to place kisses onto your shoulder blades and spine. “I know, baby..I know.” By now, he had you hooked into somewhat of a headlock position..almost as if he couldn’t make up his mind as to what he wanted to do with you. Perhaps that had something to do with him nearing his own climatic peak. You could feel that hard cock pulsating inside of you and soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead, his tongue out and his chest heaving..he was close. So close that he couldn’t even pretend that he was angry with you any longer. There was no more of keeping up this silly charade that you were mad. You couldn’t give up so easily..not when there was no man on this earth you wanted more. But he did have one thing to say to you, something that he was determined to drill into your head. Grasping your hair, he’d grunt into your ear..
“You’re mine, baby..you can’t leave me, alright? Promise me you’re not going anywhere..”
“I—ahh! I’m not…I’m sorry—“
“I’m sorry too, mama. Fuck!”
gasping with all that you could muster. And only seconds later, you felt him halt in his tracks and that warm fluid flowing into your womb. Letting out an ear shattering grunt, Eren pumped that nut into you and didn’t miss a beat. That hot, white load dripping from your battered cunt for the brief moment that he pulled out to switch positions..the mood had obviously shifted and the two of you were no longer at each other's throats and were instead shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths. “C’mere..give me a kiss.” Moaning and practically yearning for the other’s touch. Those hard pulls and smacks had slowed to tender grasps and Eren so lovingly brushed your face before pulling your hand along to climb on top of him. You didn’t even have time to exchange words, just tangled limb in limb as you made out in a passionate haze…feeling up your skin with his hands roaming your back and yours caressing his face. Leaving tender, warm kisses that made him melt for you all over again. With his lip quivering and eyes all glossed over, he’d glare up at you..begging for you to slide it back in as he was becoming far more spent than he hoped to admit. Even so, you’d do exactly that and place your hands on his chest in the process. “Oh my God…” “Oooh, baby..yes.” the cries leaving your mouths simultaneously as you impaled yourself on that throbbing erection. That mushroom tip splitting open your puffy folds yet again and emitting droplets of cum as it slid in. You were already full but he was hoping to stuff you to the brim. Hell, maybe he would get you pregnant tonight because that was the type of mood he was in. “This dick feels so good..I need all of it..” so desperately admitting as your ass slowly collided with his pelvis. “Take it then, baby. It’s yours.” Rocking back and forth, slowly grinding..going up and down on that cock. It took a moment to center yourself; to gain your balance but once you did, you were riding him to kingdom come. Fucking every bit of those frustrations out of him. Leaving a puddle of creamy, pearlescent fluid all over the base of his pelvis. And needless to say, he was loving every second!
“Ride that shit..oh fuck..” grunting with his arms folded behind his head as he casually enjoyed your ‘talents’. Including making circular motions..bouncing up and down as you propel yourself on his cock. His thick girth stretches you out with each one. Eventually, your head would fall backwards and you’d find yourself practically howling his name whilst still clawing at his chest. You were making an absolute mess of him and Eren was losing his mind! It was as if you were a completely different woman right now. One determined to drain him dry and milk him for every last remnant of his nut. He couldn’t slow you down, stop or even halt you right now. All he could do was toss his own head back and knead his fingers into the flesh of your ass. He’d leave a few light smacks to serve as encouragement but you needed no help whatsoever. You were in control now…
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Baby..yes.” crying out with his legs trembling and toes curling underneath you. The grip that tight little cunt had on him was about to drive this man insane and into another nut. Panting and wailing with his hands clutching your waist. Just then, he’d prompt you to sit still and let him fuck up into you..each sharp thrust hitting that sensitive core and causing yet another stream of sweet juices to come trickling down your thighs and onto his lap. But before you even had a chance to recover, he’d pull you back down and continue drilling until..
“Eren! Fuck!..”
“I’m coming, baby! Let me come in it—“
and before the sentence was completed, you were all but stuffed yet again. Letting him throb and pulsate inside of you as he emptied his seed in your womb. The two of you were clearly spent and quite honestly possessed no more energy to be angry. It was blatantly obvious that you had obviously forgiven one another as well. He ever so gently touched the side of your face yet again and glared into those gorgeous eyes. You’d lay flat against his chest and let him massage your back as well. And it’s then that he noticed a warm, dampened spot on his pecs and he’d tilt your chin up to see you sobbing. The intensity of the orgasms and the moment itself had seemed to overwhelm you quite a bit..
“Hey, princess..c’mere.” Coddling you in his grasp and hugging you tightly. He’d even cradle a palmful of your hair in his fingers and kiss your temple once more. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
and the response to his question nearly broke his heart in half. “I’m sorry..I just realized I don’t want to lose you. Do you really hate me? I know I did some stupid shit but I didn’t mean it.” And Eren nearly burst into tears himself but instead cradled you close and murmured into your ear. “..(y/n)..baby no. I could never hate you, even if I tried my hardest. I love you so much. That’s why I get so crazy behind you. Because I know there’s no one I want more.” Suddenly, he’d cup your face between his palms and plant a loving kiss on your forehead. No matter how mad you may have been at one another before or even if you screamed your lungs out, there wasn’t anything in this world that could break you apart. He had spent his entire life searching for a woman like you and there was no way that he could give it up so easily. Taking your fingers into his own, he’d clasp your fingers together..
“Do you mean that?”
“Never meant anything more in my entire life. Listen, if you ever feel neglected by me..like I’m not doing right, tell me. Please..I just wanna be the best man I can for you. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel less than your worth, princess.”
which is all it took for you to fall apart. Sniffling into his chest, you’d let Eren rub your back until he was able to console you. The two of you would just lie there; soaking in the moment and reveling in each other’s essence. Darkness had set over the room, as nighttime har set and you realized just how long you had been at it. Breaking into a soft giggle, you’d turn your face back towards him and for a few minutes, you’d just slowly let your tongues clash..exchanging sloppy kisses and practically wanting to live in one another’s skin.
“Hey, why don’t we get up from here, go take a bath and order some food? How’s that sound for you?” All of it sounded absolutely perfect to you and without question, you’d accept. He just wanted to spend all the time getting close, holding and keeping you by his side. He’d take however long you two needed to get back to the way it was. No amount of albums, Instagram posts or anything else mattered more in this world.
than the love you two shared.
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keeksandgigz · 3 months
Text
somewhere we can be alone
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stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader
a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3
summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.
word count: 7.7k words
warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot
This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
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He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.
“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”
He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.
“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.
The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.
He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.
“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”
And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.
“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.
“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.
The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.
Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.
He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.
Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.
“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.
A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”
Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.
He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.
He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.
“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.
“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?
Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.
The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.
“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.
Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.
“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.
“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”
With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.
Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”
His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.
Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.
Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.
He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.
And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.
Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.
So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.
Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX
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Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.
So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.
“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.
“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.
He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.
Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.
Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.
“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.
“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.
“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.
Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.
“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.
“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.
“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.
Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.
“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.
So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.
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Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.
But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.
So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.
By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.
You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.
“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.
Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.
You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.
“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.
“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.
“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.
“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.
“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.
“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.
“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.
“N-No,” you whimper.
“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.
“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.
“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”
You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.
You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”
You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”
Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”
His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.
Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.
He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.
From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.
“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.
“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.
“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.
“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”
“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.
“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.
His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.
“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.
“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.
So close, so close–
He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.
“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.
The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.
You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.
His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.
You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.
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And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.
If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.
Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.
You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.
“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.
“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.
“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”
You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?
“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.
A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.
“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.
“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.
“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.
He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.
“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.
“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”
And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.
That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”
Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.
His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.
He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.
“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.
“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”
He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.
“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”
You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.
“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.
And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.
You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.
“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.
So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?
He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.
Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.
You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.
Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.
He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.
“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.
“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.
Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.
“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.
“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.
“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.
“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.
“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.
“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.
“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.
Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.
“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”
You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.
It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.
“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.
You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.
But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.
“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.
“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.
You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.
“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.
“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.
You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.
As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.
Just you and him. In his van.
You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.
“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.
Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.
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Opening night. It’s finally here.
You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?
Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.
Break a leg Juliet xx.
You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.
You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.
You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.
“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.
“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.
“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.
“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.
“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.
“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.
You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”
“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.
“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.
“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.
“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.
You seem unconvinced, still.
“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.
Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.
“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.
“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.
His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”
You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.
A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.
He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.
He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.
A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.
A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.
“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.
You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.
“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.
“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.
You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.
“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.
A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.
“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.
Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.
“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.
Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.
You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.
You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.
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The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.
You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.
“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.
“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.
“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.
“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.
“So, how about that date?”
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thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski
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doobea · 8 months
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WE ARE THE LOVESICK (GIRLS) - SAE ITOSHI
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synopsis: Sae learns what the term 'whipped' means and comes to terms with it.
content: a sick!fic, fluff, sfw, early established relationship, itoshi siblings have a good(?) relationship, feels more like a brother bonding fic, soft!sae, sae centric pov, fem!reader word count: 1.6K a/n: yuh the title is based off of my fave blackpink song hehe and my bf is sick rn and instead of taking care of him im writing instead whoops - also posting this on rins birthday is NOT a crime
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There are two things that Sae takes from this impromptu trip back home. One is that he should've done his passport renewal online because now he has to wait up to a whole month. He's not mentally prepared to explain that to his manager who's currently over six thousand miles away. And two, he's recently learned that you get sick really easily when you travel. Like ridiculously sick.
"Sae, I'm dying."
There's a sniffle. A cough. And then silence.
You definitely sound like you’re dying, Sae thinks. From the kitchen, he carefully watches your movements on the couch. Which is almost minimum to none. When you don’t respond to your name, Sae rushes over and takes a look. Your cheeks are flushed, hair sticking to your forehead in a way that didn’t look comfortable, a bit of drool hangs from the sides of your mouth from your lack of ability to breathe, and worst of all —
"My head hurts, Sae…" Another cough. "Do you have any aspirin?"
In the most loving way, he wishes you would’ve just stayed back in Spain.
He takes hold of your palms and places his forehead against yours. It's hot and wet to the touch. It makes him physically recoil back and Sae looks almost annoyed with himself. Maybe he should've tried harder to convince you to not come.
Sae hasn't been back home in maybe a year or two, he thinks, but surely there must be some aspirin or any form of medicine in the house, right? A quick rush through the drawers and every nook and cranny in the house proves him otherwise.
Sae jogs back to your curled-up figure on the couch and throws on his windbreaker. "I'll go out to the store and get some."
"No," You sit up too fast and wince, hands settling on the sides of your temples to support the weight of your head. "I'll get over it soon. Maybe it's just the humid weather?" You lamely suggest.
You always double down whenever it comes to your health. Trying to convince yourself that it'll get better soon because you hate being an inconvenience to others — others being Sae. You're doing this even when you look like an absolute (beautiful) wreck in Sae's eyes right now. But maybe he shouldn't exactly leave you alone when you're in a feverish state, especially in a space you're unfamiliar with.
He takes off his windbreaker and gently places it over your shoulders as he thinks on his feet. "Then I'll get someone else to do it."
You wrap yourself in his jacket and repress back a coughing fit. "Huh, like who?"
Only one person pops up in his mind and Sae isn't sure if he can count on him. But, even after everything that they've gone through, he can probably trust him. Well, maybe not trust but more like he's his only option.
"When did you even get back?"
"Last night," Sae answers and rushes to the point. "I need you to make an errand run."
"What?" Rin’s voice fills with annoyance over the line. "Why would I do that?"
"Because," Sae looks over his shoulder at the sight of your body in a fetal position on the couch. You’re visibly shaking a bit too much for his liking. Sae takes a deep breath and exhales loud enough for his brother to hear. "My girlfriend is sick. I've checked the cabinets and we don't have any medicine. I don't want to leave her alone at our house."
There's a pause and Sae is wondering if his brother has hung up. Then, Rin clears his throat on the line.
"You want me to drop what I’m doing to get medicine for your sick girlfriend? Am I hearing that right?"
Sae snaps his head at the sound of you coughing once more. You look disheveled and your eyes are unfocused on what's in front of you. He sharply inhales once more. "That's exactly what I want. Do you need me to repeat it?"
Another pause and then it's Rin's turn to sigh.
"Whatever. Be there in fifteen."
And Rin keeps his word, showing up precisely in fifteen minutes, in his tracksuit to be exact, begrudgingly holding a plastic bag in his hands. The big yellow smiley face contrasts sharply with Rin's visibly irritated expression. In the bag, there’s a bottle of aspirin, cough syrup, vitamin gummies, and three ice cream bars.
Rin takes one of the ice cream bars before shoving the bag into Sae's hands. "You owe me." He hisses out.
Sae ignores his brother's glare and only nods, mumbling a lazy "thanks" before making his way back into the living room. Rin quietly follows behind. Sae figures it's because he's semi-curious about how he's been, though Rin will never admit it.
You stir from the couch at the sound of plastic and wake up when Sae pours out the contents onto the coffee table, immediately ripping the cough syrup packaging open and pouring the recommended amount into the little plastic cup.
"Here, take this." And Sae watches as Rin grimaces at how softly he speaks to you.
You weakly nod and tilt your head enough for Sae to bring it to your lips. A quick swallow followed by an equally quick shudder from the bitterness and you manage to crack a small grin. "Thank you, babe."
Rin suppresses a gagging noise when Sae plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. You take this moment to finally register two and two together. Sae hasn't outright introduced you to his family members, but he has shown you pictures of them from time to time.
"Sorry for the intrusion—you must be Rin, right?" You sit up straight, still wrapped around Sae's windbreaker, and extend out a hand. "He's told me a lot about you."
Yeah, maybe Sae should've locked you back home.
His younger brother throws him a look, not annoyed but slightly amused. "He has?"
You seem to miss the panicked scowl that Sae flashes at you and continue on. "Plenty! He talks about you almost every day and watches your games at the dinner table."
Sae tenses when he feels Rin's gaze hardening on him. "You do...?"
Sae awkwardly clears his throat, suddenly feeling heat rushing to his neck, and starts heading towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make a drink."
Fortunately, you didn't catch the thick tension and begin rambling to Rin. And seeing Rin attempting to start a conversation with you is physically painful. Sae sips on a cup of coffee as you talk about what you do for a living and how you and Sae met. Rin awkwardly nods, adding a small few comments here and there. He'll occasionally try his best to smile and sound remotely interested without coming off as a deadpan ass. Talking to Rin is like talking to a rock, Sae concludes. A giant, lanky, grumpy rock.
"It was nice meeting you, Rin." Your voice still sounds fried but better than what it was earlier.
"Yeah, you too." The taller male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and stands. "Hey," Rin's voice directs over to Sae and he nudges his head towards the hallway. "Mind if we talk real quick?"
Sae exhales for what it feels like the tenth time today. "Sure."
Both brothers lean on opposite sides of the wall, seemingly also avoiding each other's gazes because wow the floor looks mildly entertaining right now. When was the last time that they even had a proper conversation without ripping each other's throats apart? Sae honestly can't remember but it didn't seem like that was on Rin's to-do list.
Rin breaks the heavy silence first with a loud unwrapping sound from his ice cream bar. He stares at it for a long moment and splits the bar down the middle, offering one stick to Sae. "How long are you staying for?"
Sae accepts it and takes a small bite. "A month."
"Showing your girlfriend around the country?"
"Maybe, but I'm just waiting on my passport."
"Should've done it online, dumbass."
Sae pretends the comment doesn't tick him off. "Why are you asking anyway?"
"Nothing." Rin drops the subject and finishes off his half of the dessert. "You've gotten softer. It's like you're whipped or something."
Sae rolls his eyes and bites off the remaining ice cream on his stick. "What does that mean?"
"It means that if she asked you to do a handstand and sing a song, you'd do it."
Sae finds himself pausing, thinks for a bit, and shrugs. "And that's a bad thing?"
Rin's eyes narrow before racking a hand through his hair. "Actually, forget I said anything."
For a brief second, Sae isn't sure if Rin is annoyed at the fact that he would do all those things for you or if he's annoyed that he didn't know what whipped means. Maybe both.
Rin pushes himself off the wall and starts heading towards the entrance, waving off to you as you lay on the couch, probably scrolling aimlessly on the phone. Before Rin steps out, he whips around and gives Sae a final hard stare.
"If you're ever free, let me know." And before Sae can even respond, he's out the door.
You giggle from the couch at the interaction. "He's cute."
The couch dips slightly as Sae plops down next to you, arms immediately wrapping around your waist and tugging you close to his embrace. "Sometimes weird." He adds.
"By the way," You start in a coy tone. "You're fine with doing all of that?"
Sae presses his lips against your shoulder and hums. "Doing all of what?"
"A handstand and singing me a song." Your grin is so infectious that it's making his heart swell.
"I can do it no problem," Sae replies easily.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 23 days
Text
"Come on, aren't you just in love with them?" Sophia asked her boyfriend, Matt.
"Jesus, how much do those things weigh now?"
Sophia shrugged casually. "I dunno. A lot? Probably thirty pounds each, wanna weigh them?"
"Sure..... maybe later. You know, you don't have to keep doing this, Sophia. They're plenty big."
"Awwww, don't pretend to feel bad for me! I'm your girlfriend, it's my job to please you!"
"I appreciate it..... but don't you think you're taking this a bit far?"
Sophia giggled in a way that made it seem like she took this as a challenge. "You get so timid when your boyish little fantasies get exposed..... I saw all that porn on your laptop. Every other girl you jerk it to is some Influencer who grew out their boobs so much their spines snapped and they legit end up paralyzed from the shoulders down. The girls wear it like a badge of honor. I was so shocked to hear them talk so casually about their bodies being numb, not feeling their pussies, not being able to cum all because they grew such colossal boobs..... They act like it's the pinnacle of sexual appeal to be completely helpless, buried under a gigantic pair of boobs they can't even feel, only able to watch as men fuck them, encouraging them to have fun with their paralyzed bodies and not hold back. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Sophie, you know I'd never ask that of you. Your career...."
"Being a therapist? Uh, duh, I can still do that over Zoom or Snapchat. Or my patients can come to me, trapped in bed, naked. I'll have to warn them not to mind my ponderous, 200lb-breasts. They're for my boyfriend, just try to ignore them! Or..... if men have pent up frustration, it might be a great way to get some of that anger and trauma out on what will amount to a pair of massive, fatty punching bags. I think that'll be an excellent option for my patients. Of course, I'll at least still be able to suck your cock and taste your cum, that'll be all I need--honest! And if you don't mind I can reward my clients by sucking their cocks, if they like...... this might be fun for the both of us after all!"
"Jesus, you're seriously committed to this?"
Sophia groped her oversized breasts, which were a D-Cup when they started dating only six months ago. "What gave it away? So, are you done pretending you don't want me to grow a pair of the biggest, heaviest, back-breaking tits you've ever seen?"
"Shit..... you are such a freak, I could marry a girl like you....."
"Down boy. Let's wait til my spine snaps! I'll look so much better getting wheeled down the aisle, my boobs well over 100lbs, wearing only a garter belt and veil, ooooo, maybe you can put huge hoops rings through my nipples at the altar? Not like I'll feel you piercing them. Won't that be fun?"
"Nothing would make me happier than to show your rich, snobby family what a good, obedient girl you turned out to be."
Sophia smiled, running over to kiss Matt, squishing her hefty breasts against his chest. Feeling that made both of them realize that although her breasts were absurdly large now, they were ultimately tiny compared to what they'd look like in another year or two.
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imagopersonal · 9 months
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Give me coffee or give me death
I don’t believe in the Coffee Theory per se. I think the whole ‘drugged coffee’ thing is a bit too spy movie to be in Good Omens, but- BUT
The fact that that coffee is in the intro;
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The fact that you can see The Metatron in line, waiting for his turn, BEFORE he gets into the coffee shop, like if he was an out of place detail you were supposed to notice and ask yourself questions about;
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The very long and apparently superfluous dialogue about choosing coffee instead of death, and how “predictable” that is;
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The fact that for two seasons we NEVER see Aziraphale drinking coffee, like that’s not his thing, that’s Crowley’s thing, he’s the “six-espressos-in-a-big-cup” guy, Aziraphale drinks hot chocolate or tea, and we have to assume The Metatron knows that, because he went into that coffee shop and asked for such a specific thing that makes you think that’s something he chose specifically for Aziraphale (who still doesn’t drink coffee, so why?).
He looks reluctant at the idea of drinking it at first
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but he accepts it out of courtesy, I presume, and this is the face he makes when he tries it:
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Even he is surprised he liked it. He’s on Earth since 6000 years, so we can assume he tried coffee before and chose not to drink it. He’s either lying about liking it out of courtesy, or this is the only coffee he’s ever enjoyed, and The Metatron knew he would have liked it and chose that coffee on purpose.
So, the coffee is either important as a physical element, as something that had an actual effect on Aziraphale and changed him somehow, or it’s important in its metaphorical significance. In Good Omens almost everything is metaphorical, so the second option is very likely.
Now, what’s the coffee supposed to represent? The only certain thing we know, is that the coffee is something The Metatron offers Aziraphale, so it probably represents the offer he’s about to make.
Considering the whole “Does anyone ever choose death?” conversation, considering the fact that we don’t know how the conversation between The Metatron and Aziraphale went, we only know the version Aziraphale chooses to tell Crowley, and considering The Metatron is the angel that decided to erase Gabriel’s memory just because he said “nah” about Armageddon 2.0 and Aziraphale is the traitor, the one who stopped the Armageddon 1.0, so The Metatron has no reason to be friendly with him, my question is:
Did Aziraphale actually have a choice?
Or the alternative was worse than leaving Crowley and the bookshop?
Was it actually coffee or death?
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Imago
2K notes · View notes
xocheol · 6 days
Text
cruel summer (teaser).
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summary: what starts off as a simple crush turns into something else entirely when you sleep with your best friend’s brother on the first day of summer vacation at their family beach house.
pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader genres: romance, angst, smut, slowburn; best friend’s brother!au, rich kid!au, summer!au estimated word count: 20k-30k
teaser warnings: implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, profanity — full warnings to be included in the fic! a/n: please send an ask/comment to be added to the taglist! thanks for reading :) {inspired by and based off of taylor swift’s cruel summer}
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There’s only one option left: leave Mingyu’s room as quietly as you possibly can, and tiptoe your way back to your own assigned room.
Ignoring the apprehension swirling in your stomach and the throbbing of your head, you swing your legs off the bed and sit up. The man sleeping next to you snorts and then turns onto his back. You freeze. Once Mingyu’s breathing evens out again, you silently stand up. Your t-shirt and shorts are strewn on the floor; you gingerly pick up your shirt and shrug it on, and then bundle up your shorts in your arms. You twist the doorknob. 
You will miss him, you think. Kim Mingyu with his sweet lips and sweet words. He makes your heart stutter in the worst ways possible. You wonder if he’s ever going to think of this night the way you will, ruminating over every detail like an art critic observing a painting.
The first rays of sunshine slowly begin their journey from their east just as you enter your own room. You dump your clothes on the bed, pulling the shirt over your head. The sheets look visibly unused. You frown and pull them off the mattress, then redo them. At least your bed looks slept in, now.
First things first: you’re going to take a shower. The sweat and stickiness of the past few hours settles in like a second layer of skin, and you itch to scrub it off. You unzip your duffel bag and pull out your towel and bathrobe. The perks of your best friends being children of privilege is that each bedroom has an attached bathroom. A shower stall by the sink, opposite the toilet, is perfectly good for the bleary-eyed, muddled mess of a state you’re in.
Minutes later, when the mirror is fogged up and your hair is damp, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen. You’re in desperate need of a coffee—your go-to hangover cure. It’s only half-past six; everyone else should be asleep. 
Except you’re not alone.
Kim Mingyu blinks at you from his seat on the kitchen island.
“Oh.” You stop in your tracks. 
He’s the complete opposite of you: hair still wildly messed up, shirt wrinkled, sleep marks on his cheek from the pillow. He looks gorgeous. Your chest clenches.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Uh, morning.”
Some part of you wants to turn around and run away, perhaps bury yourself in a mound of blankets and never show your face to the world ever again. The other part of you stays rooted in place. It’s rather ironic; you escaped from Mingyu’s room first, only to find yourself pulled back to him. 
If you’re the moon, then he’s the earth. You couldn’t stay away from him even if you wanted to. 
It’s a dangerous thought.
Mingyu gestures to the coffee machine whirring behind him. “I’m making coffee. Want some?”
“Sure. Thanks.” You don’t think you can sit next to him. Instead, you walk over to a cabinet, open it, and pretend to peruse through its contents. A box of almond cookies, canned soups, a packet of rice cakes—
“Did you sleep well?”
You press your lips together, turning around to face him. Mingyu is already looking at you, an inscrutable gleam in his eyes. This is inevitable—talking to him and interacting with him like normal. You’re going to be within the same vicinity for the next couple weeks, after all. It doesn’t change the fact that it will be horribly, irreversibly awkward—for you, if not for him. 
“I did, thank you,” you reply. “What about you?”
Mingyu clicks his tongue. “Mm, so and so. You woke up pretty early, though.” 
He says it so casually, it sends your brain tripping like a faulty wire. Is this how it’s going to be? Is he going to make you dance around him for the entire duration of the vacation? 
“Ah, yeah.” You attempt to smile. “I, um, needed to shower.”
Mingyu nods like he understands. He pauses for a moment, a flicker of something crossing over his face. “Listen, I—”
Your heart sinks. You already know what he’s going to talk about.
“It’s okay, Mingyu,” you hurriedly interrupt, hoping your voice doesn’t betray anything. “You—we don’t have to explain anything to each other.”
“That’s not what I was gonna say.” His expression pinches.
You shrug. “Yeah, but—it’s something I want to say.”
Better to save yourself from heartbreak early on. You can do this—you can admire him from afar, the way you always have, and force yourself to enjoy your summer vacation with Sora and Yeri. You can bury Kim Mingyu and your alcohol-induced one-night stand into someplace you won’t think about, and continue on as though nothing happened. 
“Oh,” Mingyu says, frowning. “But—”
The coffee machine dings. Both you and Mingyu startle. You tear your gaze away from him and look back at the packaging on the rice cakes. He gets up from his chair and pulls out two mugs from a drawer. A third voice joins you both—Xu Minghao, you recognise, one of Mingyu’s friends who accompanied him on the trip. 
“Good morning,” Minghao greets both of you, and then yawns.
“Good morning,” you echo. Mingyu mumbles something similar. 
Mingyu’s friend slides into his previously occupied seat and holds his head in his hands. “Bloody hangover,” he mutters. “Pass me one too, Mingyu.”
Mingyu scoffs. “Get it yourself.” He places a mug on the counter in front of you, not meeting your eyes. “Coffee.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly; he nods in response. Minghao curses under his breath and shoots Mingyu a deathly glare. You bring the mug to your lips and take a sip of the hot liquid—it’s a bit too bitter for your taste. You aren’t complaining, however. 
Maybe some bitterness will help you out in the long run.
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bangtanflirt · 6 months
Text
(Un)natural Instincts (Part 11)
*Series taglist is closed.
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: trauma from past SA (vaguely hinted at this time, not explicit), jealousy, ambiguity around fidelity in hybrid pack dynamics, internalized prejudice (against wolf hybrids), mentions of drugs
____
Namjoon stills, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Yoongi’s lips on yours. Discomfort has him wriggling in his skin, but he battles the feeling long enough to discreetly retreat—finding the nearest guest room before the two of you can pick up on his presence. The wolf shuts his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts.
This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be jealous. She doesn’t owe me anything.
But all the rationale in the world can’t shake off the of jealousy. It’s not a strong, world-shattering type of feeling—but it’s there and it irks him nonetheless. He can’t help but feel like an absolute idiot for mistaking your offering of friendship as anything more. Was he the only one feeling a pull?
Of course she doesn’t feel anything for me. She wouldn’t think of a hybrid in that way.
As much as you talk of equality, Namjoon isn’t dumb. It’s one thing to support hybrid equality, but it’s an entirely different matter to see him equal enough to be a romantic option.
How could she ever think that way about someone she has to put a fucking leash on to be seen outside with? It’s impossible.
He doesn’t know why he let himself feel this way in the first place. He’s only known you for a couple of days—not to mention he already has a loving pack. Guilt stiffens his features, not wanting to think of what his pack would say at his pathetic little crush. Would they feel betrayed?
Relationships aren’t exactly as black-and-white as “open” or “closed” in hybrid packs. On one hand, a pack is always “open” to accept new packmates to form strong bonds with; however, their pack hasn’t had a new member in years…so were they “closed” now?
He doesn’t know why he’s thinking so deeply about it—you’re not even a hybrid. There’s no wolf in you for them to form a pack-bond with.
You should be with a human, someone who can actually build a future with you. Someone like Yoongi.
You should be happy with a human like Yoongi, and he should be happy with his amazing pack. It should be this simple. So why isn’t it?
___
“Yoongi…”
His heart beats hard against his ribcage, drumming loud in his ears. He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts, but every millisecond feels like a year. Some part of him hopes you’ll pull him back in for a second kiss, but it’s clear that’s not where your head is. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until you start talking again.
“Was that…was that because I was teasing you?” Your voice is soft, almost a whisper, but the closeness between your bodies guarantees he hears every word.
Shaking his head, his mouth answers before his mind has any time to think.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
He doesn’t realize what he’s done until the words spill out.
There’s no going back now.
There’s a moment of regret. You literally gave him an out on a silver platter—just brushing the whole thing off as an answer to your teasing, fueled by wine. But he doesn’t think his response through, and now the entire friendship he’s built with you could easily go down the drain. His heart—which he’s kept guarded for so long—is fully on his sleeve, vulnerable to whatever you decide to do to it.
The confession lingers heavy in the air, sobering any slight buzz out of both of you.
“I’ve liked you for a while. I don’t know when it started…maybe a few months after I was hired? I don’t remember. I just—I like you. A lot. And I know it might be really stupid to say this and ruin what we have,” his voice barely holds it together to get the rest of the sentence out, “but if you tell me you don’t have any feelings for me then I’ll never act on it again, I promise. That’s all I need to know.”
The strain in his voice prompts you to find your own quickly.
“I…I have feelings for you too.”
Yoongi’s shoulders finally fall down, a mix of relief and elation washing over the second your words soak in.
“Thank fucking God” is all he can manage to get out before pulling you into a tight, cathartic hug.
___
Bacon sizzles on the stovetop, edges turning crisp as Jimin watches over. The fresh aroma of Yoongi’s favorite dark roast fills the kitchen, luring the man in as he’s getting ready to go to work. Jimin signals for him to sit, singing an unfamiliar song as he’s plating the bacon next to a stack of pancakes. The surprise on Yoongi’s face is evident, as Jimin hasn’t cooked him breakfast since the morning of the incident. He'll never say it out loud, but the site does endear him.
“You look happier than usual.” The wolf remarks, noticing the smile Yoongi can’t seem to suppress. It’s hard not to smile when all that’s going through his head are your words from yesterday.
“So do you.”
Jimin puffs out his chest in pride, “Because I just finished baking these” he gestures proudly to a tray of freshly baked muffins. They look mouthwatering, and Yoongi’s hand is reaching out before he even realizes it. But the wandering hand is quickly swatted away.
“Hands off. These are exclusively for Taehyung.”
“Not even one?”
Jimin almost gives in at seeing the pout creep on the man’s lips, but regardless, he stays firm, “Nope. This is step one in fixing our relationship. I need every muffin here if I’m going to make it up to him.”
Curiosity takes over Yoongi’s features, wondering what exactly a guy as sweet as Jimin could do to land himself in such hot water.
“You must’ve messed up really bad.”
Jimin shakes his head, sliding over a fixed plate and coffee. “Funnily enough, I still don’t think I did. It’s the drugs that messed up both of our minds.”
“Why are you making it up to him if you don’t think it was your fault?”
“Because love isn’t always about who’s right and who’s wrong. Sometimes you just have to do what you can to make things work.”
The man raises a brow, taken aback at the wise words coming from such a naïve face, which Jimin notices and starts laughing at immediately.
“I sounded so smart, didn’t I?” His eyes shut into happy crescents, “Namjoon hyung says that to us a lot. It sounds a lot cooler coming from him.”
Yoongi shakes his head in amusement, small chuckle leaving from his lips as he digs into the neatly decorated plate in front of him. Not even the mention of Namjoon could throw off his good mood this morning.
___
As much as you want to celebrate your recent developments with Yoongi, the current mood in the car has you (and everyone else) stiff with unease. The cause of said unease is looking out the window, paying no mind as he stares blankly at all the cars passing. It’s not lost on anyone how distant Jungkook is becoming towards you, refusing to acknowledge any of your attempts at conversation.
That isn’t the only cold front you’re experiencing.
The wolf in your passenger seat is also visibly off. Normally, he’d be the one trying to get Jungkook to get along with you, but it’s clear that Namjoon is lost in his own world at that moment. You steal glances throughout the drive, trying to decipher his expression: it doesn’t look like he’s mad…but it also doesn’t look like he’s comfortable? His responses are short and the smile he flashes is contrived at best, but you hold off on asking him why.
Hoseok’s also lost in his own thoughts, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt and trying to keep the bad memories away. His anxiety’s been spiking up as the synthetic hormone levels decrease, mind now unable to create a haze to block all the bad. There are moments, like right now, when he wants to scratch off his skin until he breaks flesh—grasping for any way to reclaim his body. His claws almost peek out, tempted to follow through with his intrusive thoughts, but he’s pulled out of it when he feels Jimin’s fingers interlock with his own.
The younger one leans in, car radio loud enough to allow them their own moment, “Is it the memories?”
Hoseok nods, eyes down on the interlocking hands, trying to focus on the welcomed touch instead of thinking about all the unwelcomed ones.
“Try tuning into your hybrid hearing when it gets really bad. Maybe that can help block them.”
Hoseok’s willing to try anything at this point, so he zones out on the back of the driver’s seat and lets his ears do their thing. It’s been far too long since he’s tuned into his heightened senses, and it feels disorienting at first, as if he’s no longer in the same place as his body. But natural instincts kick in and have him adjusting quickly, letting him filter through various conversations and noises until he’s focused on one moment. It’s a child begging his mother for ice cream, a sweet exchange. He follows their journey throughout the ice cream aisle, listening in as the mother finally gives in and the two discuss what flavor. Surprisingly, Hoseok doesn’t realize arriving at the doctor’s until Jimin’s unbuckling his belt for him.
Hoseok smiles, “That actually helped.”
Jimin simply responds with a peck on the cheek.
___
Dr. Gong notices Jungkook’s changed demeanor instantly, as he’s not acknowledging her either. The youngest simply sticks behind his pack, hands holding onto the bottom of Jin’s sweatshirt. She looks back and forth between Jungkook and you, and you don’t know what else to do but sigh.
“Good to see you all again. I hope all is well.”
You bow before ushering three of the hybrids to take the empty seats while you and the others huddle around her desk.
“We’re getting there” you say, half-heartedly smiling.
She nods, “I assume you all are familiar with the process of heat shots. We’ll do the rut suppressant first. Namjoon, please follow the nurse into that room.”
The rest follow one by one, coming out with band aids on their arm. Dr. Gong pulls out a pile of lollipops onto her desk for their return, scattering various flavors on the desk. Taehyung looks at them with curiosity, eyes telling Jimin he’ll take one if he does as well. Jungkook shoves a strawberry one into his jacket, not bothering to thank the doctor the way his hyungs do.
“I was actually with the authorities yesterday, going over the hybrids’ medical results for them. They’re collecting evidence for Kang’s trial. I expect they'll call me to act as a witness soon.”
Just the mention of Kang’s name has every hybrid in the room flinch.
You nod, "I’m waiting for that call as well. Even a life sentence seems too kind for him though.”
“Plans to distribute fevocaine should land him at least thirty years. But realistically, with his status, I won't be surprised if it's fifteen max.”
A low growl comes from Jungkook, startling everyone in the room.
“All the shit he did to us and he’s only tried for the drugs? You must be fucking kidding me.” The only thing that keeps his rage from boiling over is Jin’s firm tone telling him to settle. The raise in voice has Dr. Gong pulling back, fear creeping in at seeing a fired-up wolf.
“He won’t hurt you” Jin assures, snaking a hand around the youngest’s waist to keep him still.
The doctor gives an unconvincing smile, trying to regain composure.
You give an apologetic look, bowing on his behalf. “Sorry Doc.”
“It’s understandable. I also agree with Jungkook. The laws are ridiculous. The only real good news I can give you is that the synthetic hormones seem to lose most of their effectiveness without the fevocaine. There’s no chance of the collars entering the market anytime soon—hopefully ever.”
The information, although positive, has you baffled, “I knew it was a dangerous drug, but such small amounts really made that much of a difference?”
“It’s the base needed for everything else to work. Only fevocaine can subdue a hybrid’s nervous system enough for the other hormones to instill specific behavioral changes. Simply put, without getting the hybrids in a hazy enough headspace, the rest of the hormones just don’t work.”
You suppose it makes sense, as the Kang you know wouldn’t risk involving fevocaine into his plans unless it was absolutely necessary.
“You’re all set for this month. The receptionist out front can set you up for next month’s appointment. I remember you were hesitant about continuing them on the suppressants, though.”
You nod, “We don’t need further appointments. I’m sure they’ve had enough of synthetic drugs messing up their hormones to last a lifetime. Right guys?”
Namjoon’s eyes go wide, “Are you sure? It’s not safe for you to be around us in heat. We don’t mind getting the shots.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I mind.” Jin’s grasp on him becomes tighter, an unspoken command to behave.
“It’s alright Joon, Yoongi said I could crash at his whenever you’re in your heats—or rut for you.”
Namjoon’s jaw ticks slightly at the mention of Yoongi, before he reminds himself that this is how things should be. Humans with humans and hybrids with hybrids. He reluctantly nods at your plan, thinking for the greater good of his pack.
“If that’s alright with you then yes, we would prefer not to be on them. Except for Hoseok.”
Your eyes go wide at the realization, of course Hoseok wouldn’t want to go through his heat. You curse under your breath for not catching that.
Hoseok, on the other hand, looks relieved that it was brought up before he had to bring it up himself. He thanks the heavens he has a good Alpha during situations like this.
___
“You’re back early” you muse, quirking an eyebrow at the figure standing at the door of your home office. Yoongi smiles, making his way to your desk before bending down to kiss your cheek.
“I told Minhyun I had to leave early for an urgent appointment.”
“So you lied to get out of work early? I could fire you for that, you know.” He tilts your head up, kissing the teasing grin off of your face.
“I didn’t lie. I had to come here and kiss you urgently.”
Another kiss.
“Well, this is a side of you I’ve never seen. Can’t say I don’t like it.”
“I have to make up for all the lost time. Besides, this is one step closer to my househusband dream, so I can’t afford to mess it up.”
You roll your eyes, “Am I just a means to an end?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
You pinch his arm and he fakes a hurt face, causing both of you to laugh.
Yoongi traps you in your chair, one hand on each arm rest as he bends to eye level, taking in every second of the moment.
“It feels surreal. Getting to kiss you like this. It’s not something I ever thought would be possible.”
You snake your hands around his neck, pulling his face even closer. “I’ve liked you for a while too. I was just scared…the idea of losing what we already have by trying to be more is terrifying,”
You’ve been scared about the same things as him. This whole time.
“but nothing’s ever felt more right than that kiss. Made me realize that high risk and high return isn’t just for the next business deal.”
“Only you can figure out a way to make this into a business analogy” he chuckles.
“Well my gut instincts have gotten me this far with investments, so no use trying to fight them for everything else in my life.” You’re the one who leans in for the kiss this time, hands cupping his face as you chase after his lips.
“This is going to be the best investment of your life.”
“Those are big claims, Assistant Min.”
“I’m very confident, Miss Shin.”
___
Namjoon’s fork hits the table, slipping out of his hand and forgotten the moment Yoongi announces your relationship at dinner.
“We want to try and see where things go” you say, bringing your free hand to rest on top of Yoongi’s for everyone to see.
“You don’t have to make a big deal out of it. We don’t care.”
“Jungkook.” Jin admonishes, but the youngest pushes back this time.
“What? It’s true. Whatever they do has nothing to do with us. Unless you want us gone so you can be all lovey dovey. I’m sure he” Jungkook glares in Yoongi’s direction, “wouldn’t want his precious girlfriend sharing a space with us. I mean, we’re wolves after all.”
Yoongi cringes at the mention of his ignorant remark.
“Once again, I’m sorry for saying that. I wish I could take it back.”
You squeeze his hand, “Yoongi’s not like that Jungkook. Nothing about this changes the fact that you all have a permanent home here.”
Yoongi nods.
“I’m happy for you guys” Jimin beams, breaking the tension and making you extremely grateful.
“Me too!” Taehyung follows.
You look over at Namjoon, who sends a tight-lipped smile, “You two look good together.”
 “Thank you Joon,” his stand-offish demeanor still isn’t lost on you.
Hoseok barely reacts, only half present at the dining table. Jimin assures everyone to just let him be, explaining that turning up his hearing is helping him. He doesn’t need to elaborate, as everyone is highly aware of what goes on in Hoseok’s mind most of the time now. You’re just glad something’s helping.
It’s the sound of a record this time, playing maybe two houses down. A nice, soft melody that makes him want to hum along.
Namjoon volunteers to do the dishes this time, until Jin assigns the task to Taehyung and pulls the Alpha to the side, “What’s going on with you?”
“What?”
“You’ve been in your head all day. I could use a little help reigning Jungkook in, you know. It feels like I’ve been keeping him in check all alone since morning.”
Namjoon looks at the eldest with remorse, “I’m sorry hyung. My thoughts have just been all over the place lately. I should be paying more attention.”
“What is it that’s bothering you? Anything I can help with?”
He shakes his head, “No don’t worry about it. I have it under control.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
___
The Alpha hangs by Yoongi’s door awkwardly, clearing his throat to make his presence known to both of you. You sit up from your cuddling position upon seeing him.
“Hey Joon, you need to talk to Yoongi about something?”
The wolf nods, “I can come by later if it’s not a good time.”
You shake your head and get out of the covers, much to Yoongi’s reluctance.
“I need to go look over some documents anyways. You guys talk.”
It’s when you’re right in front of him do you ask what’s on your mind, “Hey, are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself lately…unless this is another instance of the hormones wearing off?”
“No, this isn’t that. I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather today. It’s nothing serious.”
Your hand is on his forehead in an instant, “It’s not a fever, thankfully. You sure you’re good? Need any cold meds?”
“No it’s fine, really. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
The wolf waits a second after you leave, making sure you’re far away from the door before speaking. Yoongi watches carefully, not in the mood for whatever “Alpha claim” he’s about to stake on you.
But Namjoon isn’t that kind of Alpha.
“I wanted to talk about y/n.”
“Go on.”
“Now that you two are…together” the word is bitter on his tongue, “we should get along. For her sake.”
Yoongi can’t say he’s not caught off-guard. He always thought a jealous Alpha would be one throwing temper tantrums and bearing teeth. Namjoon’s words don’t help make him any less wary, though.
“That’s hard to do when I see the way you look at her. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m not going to let a stranger walk into our lives and take it away.”
The word “stranger” has an unsettling feeling rise up in Namjoon’s chest, wanting to protest and that he and you are not strangers. That he understands you in ways Yoongi never will. But he stops himself. Because none of it matters if he can’t be the one thing you need: human.
That’s something Yoongi will always have over him.
“It’s just a crush, nothing serious. I’ll get over it without her ever knowing.”
“How can I believe that? How do I know this crush won’t turn into something serious in the future?”
“Because it can’t. She likes you. Not me. I’m not stupid enough to make a move and risk her kicking out the entire pack. I know you don’t trust me, but you can trust that I won’t risk the future of my pack over this.”
It’s the one statement that does placate Yoongi, because he’s right. The one thing he—and anyone who’s known Namjoon for longer than two seconds—knows is that his every decision revolves around his packmates’ wellbeing.
“Okay. I can believe that.”
____
A/N: Took a bit longer to get out this week, but I'm always grateful that you guys stick around and interact. Have a great day!
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f1goat · 4 days
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 
Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 
Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 
“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 
“What happened?” Oscar asks. 
“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 
+++
“Lan?” “Yeah?”
“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 
Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 
“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”
“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 
“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 
“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 
“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”
Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 
“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 
You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.
“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 
“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 
“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 
“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”
Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 
“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”
With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 
He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 
+++
“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 
“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 
“But.”
“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 
Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 
“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 
He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 
Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 
“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 
“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.
“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.
When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 
You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 
“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 
“Why?” You ask him. 
“Because we’re going to talk.”
“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”
“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”
You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.
The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 
The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 
It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 
“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 
He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 
Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 
“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 
“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.
“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 
“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 
“Yes,” you agree with him.
“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.
“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 
“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 
“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 
“You,” Lando chuckles. 
You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 
“Lan,” you softly speak up. 
“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”
“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?
“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 
“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”
You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.
After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…
“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 
You only show him a small nod. 
“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 
“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”
“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”
“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 
“Hope?” He asks confused.
“Hope that you like me back.”
Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 
“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 
Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 
When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 
You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 
“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 
“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 
+++
The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 
“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 
You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.
Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 
“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”
“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 
“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 
Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”
Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.
“Okay.”
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a/n;
that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story
i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs
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sepherinaspoppies · 26 days
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Riding the Dragon- Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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summary: after a great dinner with Aemond, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle, a Dragon T6.
warnings: 18+, MDNI, public smut, pussy on bike, cum play?, reader getting off on Aemond's bike, some tiddy succin, mentions of p in v sex, I think that it?
wc: 3,064
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dividers by @firefly-graphics
masterlist
click here for a tiktok that gives off aemond in this story lo
notes: this is my first time writing in reader's pov? the whole 'you' kind of perspective. I apologize if it sucks ass, I wanted to try something different. And can y'all believe I wrote majority of this when I was ovulating? HAHA
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“I had a really nice time tonight.” The man in front of you says with a content and flirtatious smile on his pretty chiseled face. 
Heat coats through your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Definitely not the effect of the two glasses of wine you’d drunk not too long ago. Wine hardly ever did a number on you to slightly fuddle your conscience. 
You give him a sheepish grin, scraping the tips of your heels against the pavement, shying away from the intensity that his eye holds. “Same here. I hope we can do this again sometime.”
His face contorts in a way that clearly indicates that the feeling is in fact very, mutual. “Mind if I take down your number?” He asks, pulling out the latest new Iphone from his pocket. You only engaged in conversation through the dating app both of you met in and you thought it seemed only fair to give him your number after weeks of meeting him.
He taps a few things on his screen before you’re met with a white screen with only your first name and birthday typed. It is then when you wonder how he came about on knowing your birthday, if you had ever mentioned it in your electrifying conversations either on the app or this date. Most likely the second option. 
You knew his name, well if you’d call it that, supplying you only his first initial. By his angelic looks, he was definitely of Valyrian descent. And you hate how much of a sucker you were for those blonde bitches. You knew he was in the last year of university, double majoring in political science and business here in the capital. You also knew he had a geriatric maine coon cat, Vhagar, who’d stuck with him since he was a child. 
But that was pretty much it. 
You nod, typing out the most critical information both of you needed in order to secure the second date. “Here you go,” you hand back his phone with such caution that causes his lips to quiver in a smirk. 
He leans forward, too forward in a way you feel his breath steadily fanning your face and the warmth that radiates through his chest. You don’t pull away as his head lowers, keeping your gaze steady with his, admiring the amethyst hue of his lone eye that twinkles against the low street lights. 
A snakes his hand around your hips, which normally you’d slap away if it was any other man. But he was different. A rare gentleman who bought you a single winter rose even when you were five minutes late, let you devour the fries off his plate, and hashed your steak without asking. 
You wanted him to kiss you and perhaps even more. 
You wouldn’t say no. If anything you’d whimper out a simple “please” if it came to that. 
However, just as you expect his lips, it doesn’t come. He pulls away with a lupine smirk on his face, waiting for a response to a question you did not hear.
You cough away the slight embarrassment, “What?” 
“I asked what your password was,” 
Before you process how he did it, you see him wave the gray screen of your phone around your face, waiting for the six digit code. 
Oh. 
“I got your number but you did not get mine and you’re gonna need it when I take you out to dinner again.” The blonde in front of you points out. 
True.
It almost feels too goofy revealing the code that multiple of your friends tease you for. Nevertheless, you stutter out the numbers: one, two, three, four, five, and six. 
You hear him dryly laugh, shaking his head side to side as he types out the three sets of numbers. “Mmm, you need a better password, darling. One might think you want your personal information stolen,” He teases. You shift your thighs to a close at the term of endearment, already feeling the slightest tingles in a place where you desired him the most. 
You make a sound of agreement making a mental note to change it later tonight. After he hands back your phone, he combs back the loose silvery hair out of his face into a neat bun that well flatters his face. “Take mine for example; it’s five, twenty-two, one-thirty. Easy to remember.” 
“Is that your cat’s birthday?” You questioned. 
“No. It’s the day we matched on Tinder.” 
You are lost for words. Not even you knew the exact date you matched with him, only knowing it was around a few weeks ago. Judging by your reaction, he knew what you were thinking. 
After a few more rounds of flirtatious conversations, you both decided to call it a night, waving each other goodnight as you watched as he sped up in a black, shiny Dragon T6, a vintage motorcycle that was the second most precious thing he owned. (The first being Vhagar). You’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the list of reasons why you swiped right. A tall Valyrian man, with long locks, that rode a motorcycle definitely modeled the countless dark romance books you’d spent hours reading. 
To your frustration, the price of Uber had doubled the amount you’d paid for hours ago. Not even Uber Share happened to be near your price range. For ten gold dragons, you could buy a week’s worth of groceries!
So you sighed, turning off your phone. Your usual bus was still in service and way cheaper than the ridiculous prices of Uber. And while it was too late to be out by yourself, it was a risk you were willing to take. 
As you rummage through your wallet for some copper coins, you hear a deep, rumbling sound of an engine revving up close to where you stand. 
It’s him. Braking his bike on the side of the road where you are. His expensive Lysene suit coat no longer hugged his body, wearing only a white dress shirt that was half unbuttoned, giving you an impeccable view of his perfectly rounded cleavage and the multiple hidden tattoos you didn’t know he had. 
“Hop in,” He says, pointing his head to the side. It was not a request but a demand. 
You tilt your head, unsure whether to say yes or no. “Is it safe?” You ask. His chest moves, seemingly laughing as he opens the visor of his helmet. “Of course it is. I’m a cautious driver, never had an accident and I don’t think I ever will. I made sure to drink water after a glass of wine, so I’m not under the influence.” 
He narrows his eye, observing the hesitation written throughout your face. He offers the spare helmet from his bag and hopes that it will coax the uneasiness. 
“If you’re so dubious about it then by all means the bike is yours to drive.” 
It’s your turn to laugh because the thought of you riding something of high value and rarity seemed absurd and silly. You were someone who did not have experience in driving in general whilst also being terrified of the narrow and steep roads of King’s Landing. 
But there was no humor in A’s eye. 
“You’re not serious are you?” 
He powers off the bike before he scoots back from his seat. “I am.” He eagerly pats the spot he has saved for you. 
“You do realize that this is a Dragon T6, right? They practically don’t make these anymore!” You gesture your hands around the expensive looking machine that was probably worth more than your left kidney. 
He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms on his chest. “What’s your point?”
You scoff playfully, “My point is that manufacturers don’t make these anymore and if I crash it–”  
“–You should have a little more faith in yourself. Maybe this will come naturally to you but you’ll never know if you don’t try.” 
You can’t help but exhale in slight failure. This was a conversation you knew you couldn’t win with him. “Look, I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing but I happen to be a great teacher. And if you do crash I’ll buy another, they aren’t that expensive anyways.” The Valyrian man shrugs as if thousands, or hundred thousands of gold dragons were nothing. 
You mutter a “fine” under your breath which makes him all giddy with excitement and slides the helmet down your head. He double checks if it's secured before he lifts you to sit properly on his bike. 
“Or I have one or two things in mind of how you could repay me.” 
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Every single piece of information he hurled your way was taken deep into your head. And you did your best to pay attention to it all under the sharp needles of nerves going through your spine. At some point he had given you little rubs up and down your back to soothe your nerves. The effect was anything but that, instead all you could think about was how his hands would feel against the bareness of your body.
Fuck. 
You tried to push those lewd thoughts away as he demonstrated the anatomy of the Dragon T6. The ignition was a little red switch right below the speedometer, whilst the clutch was on the left hand side and the accelerator in your right. The gear shift was something you had to get used to as it was not on your eye level but rather a small little lever near your foot. 
Once he feels you’ve gotten the grasp of how everything works it was time for the ultimate test. “Alright now we start. Are you ready?” He asked with an eager smile tugging his lips. 
No.
You nod your head, adjusting the mirrors to match your height. You feel the tips of his fingers lift and turn your chin towards him, “Use your words, darling.” There it was that name again that made you clutch your thighs together. You audibly gulp, “Y-yes I’m ready.”
“Good,” His hands squeeze at your hip bones to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widen almost comically to what you assume is his cock pressing insistently onto your ass. It was hard, and through the thin material of your dress you could feel it throbbing full of want and need. Gods, how will you ever focus now?
A brief image flashed through your mind of how much and what was packing underneath his undergarments. The length and thickness and how it would feel wrapped around your palm as you’d stroke him from base to tip, or the taste of him as you’d take him inside your mouth, or having his full length stuffed deep inside you as he fucked you dumb. 
Something tells you that he knows what you are thinking but neither of you speak about it. 
Finally, he takes your hands onto the handles of the clutch and the accelerator and you, being a step ahead, check if the gear is on neutral before you release the clutch and to your satisfaction it is. The blonde behind you smiles at you proudly like a teacher would to their student. 
“Now, you’re gonna slowly release the clutch and twist the accelerator slightly…there you go, good girl. You’re doing such a good job.” He coos at your ear. 
The beat of your heart raced almost out of your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a small accomplishment or the low timbre of his voice praising you but you welcomed it. 
With confidence you didn’t know you had, you decided to drive the rest of the way to your apartment without complications and took up every tip the man behind you advised. The cool air kissing your skin and the adrenaline wildly pumping through your veins, awoke something in you and slowly you began to comprehend why A loved riding. 
You had felt like a small bird taking its first flight through the skies. 
When you both reached the parking lot to your apartment, you returned his helmet and a small part lingering inside you did not want to let it go. You enjoyed it and the freedom it brought you.  
“That was so fun! I can’t believe it was that easy. Think I need to save me up for one of these,” You quipped patting the bike. 
He throws his head back to let out an amused laugh, “Or I can just give you this one,” A tone of nonchalant laced through his voice. 
You look at him baffled, “I was–” 
“–But first we need to get you your license before I–” 
“–Absolutely not, I was jesting.” You snipped, making him roll his eyes with a slight pout drawing out his lips.
“You’re stubborn and difficult, has anyone told you that?” You chortle thinking of the numerous times you’ve been called that. 
“Plenty of times but I reckon this won’t be the last.” 
He hums tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “I guess I have to fuck it out of you.”
You blink.
The hue of your cheeks increased tenfold, your feet and body became paralyzed to what he had just confessed. 
Had he just said that to shut you up? If so it worked. 
You didn’t know how to respond to something as bold as that and to your inclination you lowered your head but the blonde behind you couldn’t have that. You felt the tips of his fingers roughly grip your jaw to meet his gaze. The amethyst hue of his eye turned into a darker shade of violet as he eyed between your eyes then your lips. 
Every part of you screamed for him to kiss you or to do something to appease the longing. 
You instinctively parted your lips when his head began to dip towards your lips. The tip of his nose brushed delicately against your own then it slowly trailed to sniff at your neck, the sweet smell of spiced peaches. 
“Nyke jaelagon ao,” He whispered in his mother language. 
“Pār emagon issa,” You said before you mentally said ‘fuck it’ and knocked the wind out of him with a kiss. 
He lets out a mix between a growl and a groan as he feels your wandering hands tugging the roots of his hair. Something you yearned to do ever since you saw how long and silky his hair was. 
And Gods did it meet your expectations. 
His lips moved against yours most ardently and with equal fervor. It was hungry and needy the way your teeth clashed with his, tongues dancing for dominance until you hissed when he bit your lower lip. 
You melted into his warm embrace, deciding to tease him by rubbing your palm on his clothed length, detecting a damp patch. You shot your eyes open, separating away your lips. 
“Did you just cum?” You panted heavily. 
A smirked, “I came when you first got on the bike and I was about to cum right now.” 
You quirked a brow, “That’s what did it for you?” Redness coated his cheeks and before you knew it his lips were on you again and his hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing the black lacy panties you wore just for him. 
“Incase you get lucky,” Your best friend Sara teased just the day before when you and her took a shopping trip to a Lysene lingerie store. 
Through some imaginary telepathic communication, you thanked Sara. 
He groaned feeling the wetness that gathered through your folds. You weren’t just wet, you were dripping like honey on a hot summer’s day. A mischievous idea popped into his mind, something so lewd that made the head of his cock twitch with excitement. 
You squealed as he swiftly turned you around and twisted the ignition switch on. Was he going to make you drive in this state? 
“Move your panties to the side.” He commanded behind you. 
You pushed away the curiosity and did what he bid you to do. “Good girl. Now lean forward a bit.” You shifted yourself forward until you could feel the warm metal of his seat pressing tenaciously at your bare cunt. 
A gasp turned into drawn out moans as the blonde behind you revved the accelerator at a speed that made stars appear in your eyes. It felt good, so obscenely good that all thoughts about being in a public setting flew right over your head. 
You began to grind yourself with the vibrations, creating as much friction to your bud as you could. 
“That’s it, darling,” He encouraged behind you, increasing power to the accelerator just enough for your arousal to coat his bike. “Fuck yourself on my Dragon.” 
You clenched around nothing, whining as you felt the pure waves of ecstasy slithering down your spine. It was unlike anything you ever felt, not even the vibrator you owned made you topple over the edge.
In ten seconds or less, you loudly moaned, not caring who heard or saw you, as your legs shaked and the coil around your stomach loosened, cumming absolutely hard. 
Your limbs felt entirely spent as if you ran three laps around Rhaenys’ hill. 
“Mmm, do not get too comfortable, now, darling.” He boasted smugly as his fingers scoop your honey to his lips, humming at the delicious taste. “I haven’t even fucked you senseless yet and after witnessing this I want nothing more but to ruin your ability to walk straight for week.” 
A low whine escaped your lips at the thought of him roughly taking you. “Is that what you want?” He questioned, lowering the straps of your dress to expose your breasts to his gaze. 
You sighed contently, feeling his tongue enclosing around your perk nipple. “Yes please,” You tenderly loop your fingers through his hair. 
“I promise I will never make you beg,” He murmurs against your breast, “But you sound so pretty when you do.” 
He had kept true to his word as he not only bent you over his bike as he fucked you raw, but took you three more rounds on your couch, bed and shower until you absolutely passed out in his arms. And for the rest of the week you couldn’t walk straight without limping. Thanks to Aemond Targaryen. 
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general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche @iamkookiesforyou @jeben196 @just-a-harmless-patato @moneypriestess @ladymoon666 @angelinap09
empty is who I couldn't tag sowwy besties.
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Vice.
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Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.
Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 1.6k
Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Italian food."
The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.
"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."
"Look, you asked the question, I answered."
He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.
"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"
She chuckles to herself before confessing.
"Super steamy period romances."
Everyone bursts into more laughter.
"Wait, what?"
"What kind?"
She's clutching at her sides as she answers.
"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."
Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.
"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"
"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."
He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.
"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.
"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."
"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"
"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.
"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"
You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.
"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."
He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.
"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."
You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.
"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.
"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."
He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.
"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."
He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.
"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"
He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.
"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."
His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.
"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."
"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.
"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."
Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.
"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."
You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.
"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"
The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.
"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."
You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.
"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.
"Yours is closer."
"Mine it is."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"
JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.
"What you thinking about?"
"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."
You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.
"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.
"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."
Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.
"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."
The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.
"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.
Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
Relief.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"
You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.
"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"
His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.
His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.
You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."
"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"
The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.
Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.
"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."
Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.
"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.
You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"
You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.
"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.
You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.
"I'm your vice, aren't I?"
You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.
"In your dreams, Alvez."
He nips at your neck before continuing.
"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."
You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.
"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."
Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.
"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.
Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.
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wayslidecool · 4 months
Text
arabic numerals ranked from worst to best by their potential as the lens in new year's glasses
#10: Seven (7)
seven is a very awkward number for a lot of things, and new year's glasses are no exception. its weird angular shape leaves no opening to put a lens in, and unlike the next entry, it's too wide to comfortably squeeze between lens in the second and fourth digits. and the impressive thing about 7 is that this is a number with plenty of writing variations, and yet i can't think of a single one that makes it an efficient lens! sorry 7. i think you're the best number for a rating scale, but that's about it.
#9: One (1)
the 2010s were a rough time for new year's glasses, huh? coming off the high of the 1990s and 2000s, people were determined to make the 2010s work, but that's a tall fucking order. the saving grace of 1, and the reason it's above 7, is that it's skinny enough that you can slide it between numbers and use the fourth digit of the year as the lens, but the fact you have to resort to that is only further evidence of how much 1 sucks at being the lens.
#8: Two (2)
two is definitely a tier above the previous two entries. it's an interesting and versatile enough shape that you can mess with it to try and make a viable spot for a lens, what with the upper loop and lower angle, but i feel no matter what you try, you always gotta make some concessions. like, you have enough to work with that a talented enough designer can make something that works, but usually the result is more "functional" than "good".
#7: Four (4)
now we're getting into numbers that could actually make for passable lenses. i mean, check it out! we have a closed loop here and everything, that has GOT to count for something! what makes me put four relatively low on the list is that with its right-triangle shape, i can't imagine it being a very comfortable shape for a lens, especially with how much ends up sticking out and downwards. still, a vast improvement over the previous three entries, even if it's basically just a worse 9.
#6: Five (5)
i feel like depending on what you prioritize in new year's glasses, these next two entries could end up going below the previous one, but personally, i think the not-closed round loop feels like a more practical spot for a lens than 4's closed-but-angular loop, y'know? so what if the loop isn't closed, it still mostly surrounds your eye, and feels generally passable to me. this is a number that wouldn't inspire the idea for new year's glasses, but certainly works now that the idea has been established.
#5: Three (3)
three is basically the same thing as 5, and i could even see some people putting it below 5, since 5's loop is a bit closer to being closed than either of 3's loops. that being said, 3's dual-loop is ultimately what gives it the edge to me. it ends up feeling more versatile to me. i feel the bottom loop is generally the correct choice, but just having the option of the top loop as well really helps it out. either way, after suffering through the 2010s and 2020s, i expect the 2030s to be a welcome breath of fresh air.
#4: Nine (9)
now we're getting to the really good ones. i mean, the 1990s are when the trend of new year's glasses started! if this number was good enough to kickstart the trend, then clearly it's a good number to put the lens in. having a closed round loop really goes a long way, it turns out! what puts 9 below the next three entries is the tail. having that swoop down towards your face feels like it'd be a bit uncomfortable, and this issue doesn't crop up with the next three entries. still, 9 is a trailblazer and its place in the New Year's Glasses Metagame needs to be respected.
#3: Six (6)
if 9's only issue is the tail getting all up in your face, then what better way to solve that then just turning it upside-down? it might just be me, put having it brush up against your forehead feels much, much less intrusive than having it brush up against your face. and plus, it can give the impression of a raised eyebrow! bonus! the 2030s-2050s are going to be a refreshing breath of fresh air following the awful new year's glasses of the 2010s and 2020s, but the 2060s are going to be a true new year's glasses renaissance.
#2: Eight (8)
hey, so remember how i put 3 above 5 since i felt the double loop made it a bit more versatile? well now imagine that, but both loops are closed. 8 makes for such a good lens, it's a little surprising we didn't see new year's glasses in the 1980s (i'm guessing having two of the same number is more inspiring than two different numbers?) either way, eight isn't content to give you just one closed loop. it'll give you a second closed loop right above. (or below!) 8 is a versatile number with many options, and i hope i can live to see the day we see it in new year's glasses. a true stand out in its field.
#1: Zero (0)
still, even with all the good years ahead, it's hard to ignore the fact that the best years are sadly behind us, with the 2000s being the absolute pinnacle of new year's glasses design. i mean, come on. a single loop with no frills is basically what glasses designs default to already, so using the middle two zeroes as the lens for glasses? impeccable design. the 1990s were good enough to kickstart the trend, but the 2000s were good enough to make us want to brute force the 2010s and 2020s. if that's not the mark of a good design, i don't know what is.
sadly, it's likely we'll never see design this good again. the next year with the middle two digits being two zeroes is 3000, and while we might be able to execute double-zero designs at the turn of each century, they'll end up looking weirdly lopsided in the process. i believe humans are hubristic enough to try and brute-force bad decades, but multiple bad centuries? forget about it.
oh well. happy new year
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avis-writeshq · 1 month
Note
not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share
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pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k
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Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey. 
The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.
Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand. 
“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”
There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?
“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists. 
“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”
“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”
Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”
A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”
“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”
Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought. 
His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.
*** 
Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.
The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows. 
“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”
“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”
You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”
“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”
“What–”
You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin. 
All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds. 
“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”
Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.
“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”
His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much. 
“Spence–”
You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes. 
“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding
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