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stvrchaser · 4 months

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𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

( pairing ) : clarisse la rue x fem!reader

( words ) : 2000

( note ) : noticed that clarisse has her nails painted in the show and… well this came out of that. reader is heavily aphrodite coded but i don’t think it’s explicitly mentioned anywhere what cabin she’s actually from? only that she’s not from apollo’s and she’s on clarisse’s side for capture the flag

also don’t we just love that every fic i’ve ever published is literally 80% pining? honestly can’t tell you the last time one of my fics didn’t have a scene that goes on for like three paragraphs about how much admiration reader has for their love interest

oh and happy new year!!

Summer days can last for a lifetime and a fulfilling one at that. There’s so much to be done when the world wakes, engulfed in light and warmth, nurturing possibility. There’s so much to look forward to. But today, that anticipation has chosen to work against you.

The sun is setting now, approaching dinnertime, and Clarisse is nowhere to be found. For all of her spontaneity and occasional recklessness, it’s unlike her to abandon routines. That is, routines she shares with you. And walking to dinner together happens to be one of your longest-running practices.

You tried to ask around, careful not to sound too concerned so as not to spark rumors. See, Clarisse La Rue has never been publicly caught in a state that warrants concern. Clarisse La Rue is untouched by the fears that plague the rest of them. But you know better.

It isn’t until you come across a few Ares kids, very obviously overworked and looking nearly faint with exhaustion, that you come to your senses. It isn’t infrequent that Cabin 5 becomes victim to one of Clarisse’s drills, training until fatigue overpowers their fear of her authority. As predicted, you find her in a clear patch of the forest overlooking the strawberry fields. Some days she likes to train here, away from watchful eyes.

The setting sun casts her in golden light, bronze armor glistening alongside golden skin. Clarisse liked to train in full gear — a fruitful habit to get herself accustomed to the added weight of leather and metal. It allows her to move with ease, swinging her spear with grace despite the strength of her whole body being evident in every step. With her head held high, spear raised, and the incredible speed at which she moves, she doesn’t look even the slightest bit mortal, but rather a god amongst men. A warrior and hunter. She is the perfect picture of divinity if you’ve ever seen it.

You let your feet drag against the dirt, a fallen branch snapping beneath your weight. It informs Clarisse of your presence from a safe distance, although the remnants of her focused state aren’t any less intimidating. Her eyes burn bright like the electricity that charges the tip of her spear.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Clarisse realizes her error with a glance at the horizon where the sun is setting and you smile warmly, dismissing any indication of displeasure. You watch her demeanor change, the rigidity in her posture fading with an apologetic tip of her head.

“I’ve been training. Those idiots would know that if they’d stuck around to join me.” Something tells you that that isn’t entirely true. Anyone could assume that she’d been training, but the matter of where was an entirely different question. As far as you know, this particular spot is something only the two of you are familiar with — a small refuge away from everyone else.

“Well, we don’t all have your… passion for these things.”

“You think I’m ridiculous,” she says with a sigh.

“Babe, you’re training for capture the flag. Not war.” Clarisse only shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in arguing. She thinks this is something the two of you might never see eye-to-eye on. While you like your fair bit of competition, Clarisse takes every victory with great significance. As she does with every loss.

“Here, I’ll help you,” you say, approaching to tuck a stray curl behind her ears. Your touch lingers at her cheeks, flushed from physical exertion and maybe something more by the way her gaze settles on your lips. Every intake of breath is louder now that you stand toe to toe and the adrenaline has started to wear off. She’s too worked up to have done this all for a game of capture the flag. “I hope you’re not doing all this to get back at Percy.” Her eyes still linger on your mouth and you think she might’ve not heard you until her brows furrow in confusion.

“Since when are you on a first-name basis?”

“Oh, come on,” you say with a disapproving shake of your head. “He’s just a kid.” You reach for the leather chord at the edge of her breastplate, undoing the knot with ease.

“He’s full of it.” She refuses to look at you now, her head turned upward as if she’d developed a sudden interest in trees. You can’t tell if she’s trying to maintain her composure to keep herself from saying something she’ll regret or if your gaze and proximity was distracting her from the discussion. Maybe a bit of both.

“He’s a baby. You could body-slam him into next Friday. It’s hardly a fair fight.” You untie the last knot keeping her breastplate in place, tugging upward to slip it over her head. Clarisse doesn’t even seem to realize that you’d freed her of her armor until the weight vanished from her body.

She looks at you then with an expression you can’t quite read. Something warm, like gratitude, but reluctant. When she speaks, it’s unexpectedly solemn.

“Do you really believe he killed The Minotaur? Him? Gods, everyone here trains themselves to death for that kind of stuff and he gets all the glory? He doesn’t even know how to shoot.” Now that you’ve been made aware of the gravity of the situation, it’s suddenly harder to find your words. This isn’t the petty rivalry you’d assumed it was, and you had to handle it as such.

“Well, I’m sure a few things have been exaggerated here and there, but that’s not his fault. People love to talk about him, but nobody’s really talking to him. I don’t think he’s had a say in anything that’s been said about him. You know how rumors spread around here.”

“But he’s—”

“Look,” you start, taking her hands into yours. “I’m not asking you to make him friendship bracelets. Just… try not to drown him in the lake, okay?”

You know the exact moment an idea hits her by the mischievous glimmer in her eye. It takes a lot of strength not to bury your face in your hands, afraid that you’ve now planted an idea that would get the poor boy killed. Or worse.

“Clarisse, please.” She surrenders, albeit reluctantly.

“Fine,” she says. Still, you’re not entirely convinced.

“Good. Now say it.”

“What?”

“Say you won’t drown him in the lake.” Clarisse laughs, but it dies down when she realizes you don’t plan to join her.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m really not.”

“I swear not to drown Percy Jackson in the lake,” she agrees through gritted teeth. You don’t say anything about the way her hands tighten around yours as if it physically pained her to say the words.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” you tell her, ignoring that it did, in fact, seem hard. “Now, what are we gonna do with those nails?” Clarisse stares blankly at your joined hands. Chipped black nail polish alongside your perfectly pristine, perfectly preserved set of nails.

“Why do we need to do anything about my nails?”

“Honey, I painted these like two days ago. What do you even do to get them chipped like this? I mean, are you fighting with the back of your hand? I don’t understand.”

“I have to train, you know?” she says, like it’s meant to explain anything. You know better than to ask her to elaborate.

“Shame. You have very pretty nail beds. You should spend less time fighting puppy dog-eyed middle schoolers so you can actually keep them pretty.”

“You think I have pretty nail beds?” You shrug.

“Among other things.”

“Well, tell me about these other things.”

“Hm, and people think I’m vain.”

“Come on. What other things?”

You take a moment to look at her — to really look at her. To dissect every inch of her face and the features that create the picture of beauty you know and love. There are far too many pretty things to point out, but you find yourself drawn to one in particular.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Shut up. I’m not finished.”

“Of course. Don’t let me stop you.”

“And you have the most gorgeous smile.” Clarisse beams with pride. “Yeah, that one. And it doesn’t even matter if it looks like you’re just about ready to tear someone’s throat out with your teeth. I just like to see you happy. I like hearing you laugh even better.”

And laugh she does. Low but sweet, like honey. She looks like the teenage girl she is, deeply infatuated and with a capacity for love she has only ever shared with you.

You indulge in the temporary amusement it brings you to think of how horrified Clarisse might be if anyone else were around to hear her giggle. Clarisse La Rue, Daughter of Ares, infamous for waging war on whichever unfortunate soul so much as breathes in her direction — producing a laugh so gentle and beautiful it could give Orpheus and his songs a run for his money. And you might be the happiest girl alive to have been the cause of it.

“You’re sure you’re not Apollo’s kid?”

“Are you calling me a talented poet?”

“I’m calling you a sap,” Clarisse insists with a sour expression, but her voice is saturated with mirth, eyes too bright, and you know she isn’t entirely opposed to your antics.

“I think the term you’re looking for is romantic.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know I’m right, but thank you for the confirmation.”

“I know the nail polish fumes are getting to your head,” she mocks. You feign defeat, retreating with an exaggerated sigh.

“Maybe.” Two steps to your left and you’re concealed by a tree, its trunk twice as wide as either of you. You peak your head, locking eyes with Clarisse. “Or all that training is slowing you down. Honestly! If you’re gonna try to insult me, at least try to come up with something original.”

“Oh, you think I’m slow?” Clarisse asks, every word a thinly veiled threat — a challenge, and one you’re willing to accept.

“Unless you want to prove me wrong.” Clarisse lunges at you without warning, almost too fast, but you’re able to gather your senses. The tree had bought you just enough time to keep her whole body from slamming into yours, the force of it undoubtedly capable of launching you both to the ground.

You dash through the woods as fast as your legs can carry you, your only advantage being that Clarisse must have tired herself out from training. But you know she’s hot on your trail.

From here, you can see the bonfire, flames burning high. You turn, prepared to declare that your victory is just seconds away. You’re tackled to the floor before a word can leave your mouth.

“Oh, come on! That’s not fair, I was distracted!”

“Distracted by what?” Clarisse laughs hysterically although taking a much more graceful tumble to the floor than you had. She’s covered in fallen leaves and her jeans are brown at the knees where the denim fades.

“The pretty girl chasing me.” Clarisse is beside herself with joy, clutching at her stomach and close to tears, and it takes her a minute to calm herself. When the two of you have settled, she speaks again. Or tries to, that is.

“Oh, you are so—“ You place a kiss on her lips, short and sweet, but enough to leave her speechless. Clarisse turns a violent shade of red and you think she might need another minute to calm herself. You take that time to revel in your victory.

You stand, offering your hand to help her up.

“Come on, let’s get dinner and you can rest for the game tomorrow. If you’re gonna lead us to victory, you’re gonna need your strength, captain.” She smiles, intertwining her hand with yours.

“You’re gonna be there? Right beside me?”

“La Rue, you’re crazy if you think there’s even a chance I’d ever leave your side.”

•°. *࿐

reader: pls don’t drown percy in the lake

clarisse: ok fine

clarisse: *tries to drown percy*

reader: what did i say about drowning people??

clarisse: …

clarisse: you never said the toilets were off-limits

also i'm like brand new to the pjo fandom but i’ve been kindly informed of clarisse x silena (and their tragic ending but i turn a blind eye to that so i can preserve my sanity) but when i get there you WILL need to physically restrain me from writing fics about them

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjotv x reader #pjo tv adaptation #pjo tv series #clarisse la rue fluff #pining #but they’re already dating #they’re just horrendously down bad for each other and it’s kind of embarrassing #x reader #healthy bit of banter #and trying to convince clarisse to let percy live to see another day #breaking news: summer camp gets awkward when ur gf has beef w the middle schooler #you can’t say she didn’t try to help him ok

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run-clever-boy · 4 months

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I’m here - Severus Snape

Severus Snape x Professor!Reader

Warnings: Crying, all fluff!

Word Count: 657

Summary: You are a young professor in love with Severus Snape. When everything gets to be too much, you break down and he comes to your aid.

It was dark in the library. You used to come here as a student to escape from the other students, you never felt like you really belonged in your house. Now as a teacher, you have made a few allies among your peers.

One professor, despite how wrong you felt about it, held a special place in your heart.

Severus was not as he appeared. He was caring and gentle, helped you when you needed it. He seemed to know exactly how to help you when you needed him most. With this past reputation of his, you knew that he would probably show up at any minute at your aid as you fled the great hall for the library in a hurry after dinner.

You loved him, try as you might to ignore it you loved him more than the initial platonic feeling you had. He would show up in your dreams, daydreams, you couldn't get him out of your head. When he was around you tried to clear your mind, but to no avail. You were decent at occlumency, but he brought down your barriers.

The more you thought the more somber you became, and the less control over your emotion you had. You needed to get yourself together.

A single tear

Then another

And then another

Soon your emotions overcame you and you hid among the bookshelves sobbing into your robes. You weren't loud by any means, but your thoughts echoed in your head until you heard a voice in the void of blackness.

"Y/n? are you alright?" Severus' baritone voice shook you out of your sobbing state as you tried to straighten up and pretend like everything was fine. As your vision corrected out of its blurry setting you saw the professor kneeled down by your side with a deep look of concern.

"Yes, I- I'm alright" you said in a shaky voice.

"No, you're not, what's the matter?" he said, it was calmer than his normal authoritative tone.

"I just got in my own head is all, I'll be alright" you said

"What about?" he questioned. You knew if you told him the real reason he would reject you, tell you that you were too young and that this was all stupid. Or would he?

He placed a hand on your shoulder and shivers when up your spine. Every touch sent electricity through your body, every brush of a hand, every glance, every slight smile you could coerce out of him made you feel better.

"Severus I- I can't-"

"Yes, you can."

He tilted your head up with a finger as his eyes looked deep into yours. Pleading you to tell him what was wrong. You had never seen him like this, he seemed so, delicate and careful. Like you were a vase he didn't want to break.

"I-"

You paused.

"I what?" he said with growing concern.

"I love you, severus."

The words hung in the air, and you clung on them with everything you had. He looked at you with a calm sort of shock.

"I'm sorry" you mumbled under your breath as you stood up and tried to flee the library, but before you had the chance he stood up and grabbed your hand and spun you around and held you close to him, his finger lifting your chin to make your eyes meet once more.

He hesitated, he wanted something, but you couldn't tell what. His eyes glanced from your lips to meet your gaze again. He looked behind him at the library door then pulled your face closer to his, his lips smashing against yours and in a crazed fit of passion.

He held you there for what felt like so long then finally allowed breath between the two of you. He pulled you close to his chest and held you there, just enjoying the silence.

"I love you too, I always have" he whispered gently.

"Always"

#severus snape #severus x reader #professor snape #snape #snape fandom #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape fluff #hp fanfic #hp fandom #hp #hp marauders #severus x y/n #alan rickman

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cupidscrule · 4 months

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BLACK CAT

Leon X Fem! reader

P in V, smut

[ no tw, vanillaish idk ]

1.2k wrd

”Woah, woah, slow down” Leon chuckled as you started explaining another cool story to him.

Your relationship was like the definition of a black cat and a golden retriever. You always have so much energy and are nice to almost everyone. Leon on the other hand is a tough agent who doesn’t really enjoy showing much emotion. He’s pretty stern towards others— but his softspot for you is clear.

”Okay, i’m listening. Tell me” He said while you were walking together with your fingers interlocked.

"okay okay! So THEN after Fluttershy wrote an entire song, rainbow dash just decides to throw it out? Ugh she's such a bitch. Don't you agree? I mean her friend went through all the trouble to try and get them to win the battle of the bands but she's so selfish.." you said, going on about a children's movie. You loved cute things, hello kitty, my little pony, really anything a 12 year old girl would be obsessed with, wearing cute little outfits and rambling about pointless stuff. But hey it made you happy and Leon thought it was adorable

"Mhm, yeah, so selfish" Leon couldn’t help but chuckle a little about how into the movie she was. by now he knew EVERYTHING about these stupid colourful horses, rainbowdash, fluttershy, twilight, pinkie, apple jack, list goes on. Honestly from what he knew rarity seemed like the best- I mean she was a boss bitch.

He found the whole thing pretty amusing, you were just so excited about it and he’s glad you have stuff you're so.. passionate about

"I mean, it would probably get annoying if her friend just wasted all that effort right? " He said trying to show his interest in her story.

"exactly! Ugh finally you get it" you said smiling up to him, leaning closer into his side as you two walked down back home, it was a long day. Like REALLY long, you took Leon shopping, got your nails done, bought some new skirts, and a new album. All that sort of stuff, but y'know dragging Leon aside you cause someone had to carry the shit, you were gettin really close to the outside of your house, skipping beside Leon holding hands. Life was like a dream.

But the long day out had Leon pretty tired— he had to drag a lot of your stuff around and you insisted they go to multiple stores (you tried to be nice and let him pick something out but he was too tired and grumpy, I know right such a dick head?)

When you were about to arrive home, he looked at you as you skipped around excitedly and smiled softly. Despite what he’s put through, he can’t deny that he finds your behavior adorable.

He squeezed your hand and chuckled a little before you guys got in front of your door.

"Oo Leon tomorrow we should watch rainbow rocks, then you'll understand what I'm talking about better" you say giggling as you step into your house, taking off your little boots and walking away from Leon plopping your ass on the leather sofa, even if you were like if you gave a six year old crack mixed with sour gummy worms even you could get kinda tired. Right, ain't that surprising? Little princess bitch face getting tired, after crawling over Leon like a little kid and skipping everywhere, runnin, jumping, god doing everything known to fucken man kind

“don’t know if we’ll have the time because of..” Leon muttered under his breath, he didn’t want to upset you and ruin your mood when you’re so excited.

He walked over to the couch and sat beside you silently and just observed you as you started talking about the movie. He placed a hand over your thigh, brushing up and down just silently smiling hearing you decribe your weird ass fictional horse people argue with other creatures from mythology, honestly sometimes he wondered if you needed to be checked into a mental hospital. Little grippy sock princess

“Wellll, maybe we can watch it tomorrow..” He shrugged. “I mean, i’ll do anything you want” Leon chuckled looking over at you.

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, his body was pretty warm given how hot the day was and his arm was pretty comfortable.

He kissed you forehead before wrapping his other arm around you, squeezing you a little. You loved when he was affectionate, but not in a creepy way, a cute way. But after a long day a girl can get a bit needy, like sue me but when you have a hot ass man cradling you and taking you everywhere, GOD it's like an angel is sent from heaven to fuck you. But fuck you in a good homemade porno way, not one of thoes shitty ones with a whole plotline. Just straight raw fucking

You turn around, breaking his grip on you before climbing onto his lap, placing yourself onto his thigh "Woah Woah, calm down- y'know I'm tire-" he was trying to speak, silly men. You land a big fat kiss on his lips to shut him up, slowly moving yourself on his thigh, pulling away from him getting a breath, saliva dripping down your face like an animal, staring at him in the eyes, his face slightly shocked you made the first move. But you felt something perk up, bingo. Always know what can make your man want ya

"God I can't just stare at your handsome face and do nothing-" you mutter under your breath, pushing yourself closer into him, kissing his face like a big ol' dog, your free hand finding its way to his jean zipper, undoing it his fat dick springing up, he grabs you by your hips, pulling your panties aside, slapping you onto his cock, a groan coming from his lips, honestly didn't expect the day to end like this, went from talkin ponies to getting your brains fucked out. Like a good girl you ride him, his hands are placed on your hips moving you at a decent pase, bit fast but he did do A LOT of work today, guess he deserves it. Nothing else in the world matters right now, euphoric feeling, he thrusted up into you, taking one hand off your hip and grabbing your face, making you look at him, god his eyes make you MELT. He could take care of you, he was real nice with it. He groped your tits sometimes in public, but just made you love him more.

You're at your high, he knows that. Few more thrusts and you whine, feeling your body melt like butter, your weight collapses onto him, but he's not done practically druling on him, limp body he keeps fucken like a doll, if you still have a tight pussy thats all that matters, few moments and he finishes, pressing you down onto him, filling your cervix, still collapsed on him both of you breathen all heavy. "So babydoll, what happened next?" He groaned, a sly ass smirk on his face. "Mm that cunt rainbow got put in her place and they play fluttershys song" you mutter, pushing on his fat chest, rollin off him like a little kid, pussy dripping. His pants stained with you, and a heavy chest.

"I wanna-"

"No"

"Pleaseee"

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sleepiexx · 11 months

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Miscellaneous Valeria Garza Hc’s (including some x fem!reader content)

To get the creative juices flowing bc this Val draft I’m writing is going to be the death of me

Valeria hates men with a fiery passion. Years of having been a woman in the military only showed her how vile they are, now she refuses to put up with their shit.

Fully believes that if you want something done right, you have a woman do it.

Definitely treats women better than men, she has empathy for them that she just doesn’t feel for men.

Lesbian fs fs

With that, I don’t actually think her and Alejandro had a romance type thing, they definitely had some form of bond but I genuinely can’t see her with a man so I think it was more platonic

But tbh I think w the passionate hatred Alejandro immediately had for her, no hesitation whatsoever, they had a rivalry

And I think they’re character foils for each other. So similar (yet so different) that all they can see in each other is the things they hate about themselves.

(The way this has been in my drafts for like forever and now that season three is out they’re calling them two sides of the same coin)

Despite her hatred of men, she still has some issues with internalized misogyny and femininity

She’s just so used to having to prove herself in a male dominated field that it’s hard to let go of those things

Won’t wear dresses, have long nails (although that could just go w the whole wlw thing 🤭), or drink fruity drinks

But she refuses to judge other girls for those things, her internal misogyny stays geared toward herself and the standards she holds herself up to.

A lot of it just translates into her being more of a masc lesbian

Anyways

Big spoon, always. No debate. Will make empty threats if you try to fight her on it.

“I will suffocate you with a pillow if you don’t stop,”

Pulls you around by the loops in your jeans, shirt collar, necklace, basically whatever she can pull on to move you places she will

Bites

TLDR: she has cuteness aggression to the max and shows her love in the strangest ways

I think she’s somewhat tall, like 5’9 or 5’10

Muscular af, I just know that turtleneck is hiding a ripped ass body

Abt her time in the military and her current feelings on it

I think when she was in the military, she got up to the lieutenant rank. Especially with the way Alejandro said she led the ambush on the son of La Araña.

She either still has her dog tags hidden somewhere because she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of them, or she threw them as far as she could in a fit of rage

If you’re in the military, she fs tries to convince you to leave and join her

“I could treat you better than any of these men”

And she means it

She means everything she says, even when she’s joking she’s dead serious.

Especially when she tells you she’d kill for you

When she allows herself to love someone, she doesn’t half ass it. She loves with passion.

You know that you are so loved when you’re with her because she makes it abundantly clear.

Overall just a rlly good partner, I’m actually in love w her.

#valeria x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza cod #valeria cod #valeria x fem!reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #call of duty headcanons #call of duty fanfic #call of duty valeria #call of duty x reader

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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

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CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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ipegchangbin · 1 year

Text

— uplifting

sub!gym buddy!changbin x dom!personal trainer!reader | 8.7k words

♡ … prequel to heavy lifting “Personal trainer Changbin” this, “fitness coach Changbin” that, what if you were his personal trainer this time? Changbin can keep up with his workout routine on his own if he wanted to, but what’s the fun in lifting alone when he can lift with your words of encouragement?

❥ gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, written with a vulva but no specifics), smut, fluff, some crack, crushes/clients friends to lovers, porn with some plot. ❥ mentions of weight (positive context). unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral (changbin receiving), fingering (changbin receiving), headlock, strength kink, lots of teasing, dumbification, praise, degradation mention, changbin and y/n are slightly perverted, no specifics about y/n’s physique.

📝 i wrote a thought piece about gym buddy!binnie some time ago but apparently the man himself cannot stop bulking up and working out so i just HAD to write more. this is my first full fic, and yes i drew that piece in the header, so let me know what you think of it through feedback. otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

You never expected your client, the one and only Seo Changbin, to like you this much.

Yes, Changbin; he’s a close friend of your coworker Chris. Just like your fellow gym instructor, he’s outgoing, charming, and confident. Except, he somehow isn’t all of that whenever he’s around you.

The two of you properly met for the first time when Chris showed him around the gym. Changbin had been working out in a different place, likely a smaller fitness center considering how amused he was while walking through the area. He was beaming with excitement when he scanned the rows of equipment, but nothing compared to his reaction when he saw you.

He zoned out when his eyes met yours. To say that he was smitten was an understatement. Both you and Chris had wondered where that extroverted man from earlier had gone.

“Changbin?” Chris called his name.

“Oh, sorry.” He attempted to save himself with a laugh.

It wasn’t long until you both formally introduced yourselves to each other. You extended your hand for a handshake but didn’t miss the way his forearm trembled in contrast to his biceps. Even you couldn’t fathom how quick it was for someone to get so obviously whipped.

The man signed up for a membership here on the same day he met you. He had to think about getting a personal trainer because he had done all of the bulking up and muscle toning mostly by himself. He had practically become obsessed with fitness ever since he was told that big muscles suit him best. He loved everything from the newfound confidence, the look of his curves, and the additional strength. He takes full credit for his amazing body, as he should be, and he’s proud of himself.

That sense of pride left him immediately as he “accidentally” wrote your name on the form under “personal trainer.”

“What about me?!” Chris exclaimed. “I was the one who pushed you to work out! Not only did you turn to a different gym, but you also turned to a different trainer?”

“I-I didn’t mean to—well, whatever, I bet they’re a better coach than you,” said Changbin. He cleared his throat in the middle of bickering with Chris.

Your coworker mumbled about how much easier it was to write his other name “Chan” on the form; unfortunately, all you could focus on was how worked up and cute Changbin got as his ears flushed with color.

Changbin glanced at you before penning down additional details on the form. “Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. He’s so annoying.”

“It’s no worry really,” you said to him with an amused smile.

Chris let out a huff. “The worst part is you aren’t wrong, Bin. They’re a good choice for you, anyway.”

“Don’t start—”

“They’re not strict, but they’re passionate,” he continued, patting Changbin’s bicep. It tensed up. “Don’t let them down. They love seeing their clients work.”

“I’m not really like that. Don’t intimidate him.”

“You’d want that, though,” Chris muttered under his breath at your defense.

Hearing that made your blood rise to your cheeks out of anger. You faced Changbin to look for reactions only to find his blood flushed through his cheeks too, for very different reasons.

“Trust me, Bin, they’re tough.” Chris flashed the both of you an annoyingly lovely smile. “They have a ruthlessness that you’ll love, dude. It’s…uplifting.”

If Changbin’s face was heated enough, he’d become toast after this new information. He realized that you’re somewhat like him in the sense that you’re just as strong, if not stronger, and more passionate about strength than he is. You weren’t necessarily the fitness junkie that people make you out to be, but you loved strength. Displaying body capability has always been interesting to you. It’s even made its way to your extremely secret list of bedroom turn-ons.

The difference between you and Changbin, of course, was that you’re good at hiding your secrets. He was practically letting the entire world know that he’s interested in you.

The following sessions weren’t kind on Changbin. The first one was an eye-opener itself. It wasn’t because you were being “ruthless” as Chris described, but because he tried his hardest not to fall for you too fast.

Falling in love is one way to put it. He did start falling for everything that came with you, but there was something more alluring about you. Everyone has watched him exert muscle power onto punching his limbs to their limits, but nobody’s seen him exert all brain power into suppressing his thoughts about you.

He spent too many minutes thinking about you. It’s only been two and two nights, but he was so easily awestruck by you. Maybe it’s the way you hold yourself. You stood straight enough to sustain good posture. The stance itself exuded confidence, hiding all insecurities in your system. You spoke as if you demanded and commanded everyone in the room. Your face is always bright. Your build is so fittingly you. Your clothes hugged your body right enough. Actually, on that note, your clothes were probably better off your body—

“What the fuck,” Changbin mouthed to himself, shocked by his train of thought.

That, and your pretty face greeting him took him by surprise.

“Good morning, Bin.”

“G-good morning…coach.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. He barely stepped into the gym, half of his body still outside, and he already seemed to tremble in your presence.

You had to give it to him, he’s one adorable man after all. You already know that he’s all sorts of determined, but his sportsmanship doesn’t end with superficialities. He’s extremely well-mannered. He loyally sticks to his principles. He is old money in a new suit; if that meant sweet musk spritzed on an Adidas shirt. His slightly curly black hair peeked out of a baseball cap. He’s a good sport, but he acted like a sore loser around you. He stuttered as if he forgot how to speak. You wonder, would he forget his name too with your hands around his—

“Uhm,” you uttered, distracting yourself from the sudden intrusive thought. It caught Changbin’s attention too, seemingly snapping him out of his head. You wondered if he was lost in the same set of thoughts.

It took you both a few steps and a few lines of small talk before Changbin was on the floor, on his knees, looking up at you, waiting in anticipation of your next move.

Of course, because he’s literally about to perform push-ups for a fitness assessment. What else would you both think it was for?

“Do as many push-ups as you can. Stop and let me know the moment something aches, no matter how small.” Your voice was loud enough to be the commanding sound between the both of you.

“Got it, coach.”

You leaned in. “Alright. I’ll count. You know the drill: legs straight, hands on the floor, ass up. Clear?”

Changbin gulped. There was nothing malicious in what you said. You’re just reminding him of proper form. He shifted his posture and followed your word.

It didn’t have to be this hard for him, doing push-ups in front of someone whose eyes were hyper-focused on him. He was used to getting stared at while working out. It was almost entirely uncharacteristic of him to break into a sweat without even starting. You were only seated on a bench, legs spread a tad bit apart for comfort, upper body hunched forward to get a good look at his form.

He wasn’t the only one going through the mental circles of hell: Changbin didn’t have to look so cute while struggling. His lips parted as he huffed, the smallest grunts escaping his lips as soon as he reached 25 push-ups. You’ve had many clients before him, some even built bigger than him, but he had a charm to him that was alluring.

Maybe it’s because, despite his strength, he seemed so weak for you. Sitting around and working out shouldn’t be this sexy for either of you.

“Fifty.” Changbin looked up at your count. You peered over at his face.

For some reason, he looked fucked out. His eyes were dark yet glossy, the color on his cheeks spread throughout his face, sweat dripping down his forehead and clinging to his freed curls. His chest was heaving, shaky breaths leaving a mouth that looked like it needed you.

“C-Coach, my arm is tense.” He was practically breathless.

“Then stop. Fifty is your limit.”

“Well honestly,” Changbin huffed and smiled a little while getting back up. “I…can go for more, it’s just tense.”

He was planning to flirt. He stumbled while getting back on two legs but you could tell by his gaze and the masked sureness in his tone that he was set on making a move.

You both knew, however, that confidence is just his first line of defense in shielding the fact that he was about to drool at the mere sight of you.

“Chill. I’m assessing until what point you’re comfortable with. I know you can though.”

“No, I r-really can. Just watch.”

Watch? Changbin practically kicked himself mentally at that. How could he ask you to watch him do more when he couldn’t even handle being under your eyes for only so long?

“Ah-huh. You don’t need to prove it to me, Bin,” You let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t get worked up over it. If anything…”

You stood up in front of him. Your mouth and body started reacting before you could think. Before you knew it, you were both in a mutual stare that could never break, and you were mustering up all of your rusty suaves to flirt back.

“If anything, I’m glad you obeyed me.”

Changbin’s plump lips shut themselves tight in a line. He did obey you: you told him to let him know when something didn’t feel right, no matter how small. You inched closer and he watched as you eyed him up and down through a half-lidded stare.

You were thinking with your ass at this point.

“Just proves that you’re a good boy.”

The eyes you were staring at widened yet they never pulled away from yours. He tensed up a little more, his muscles flexing at nothing but the last two words that escaped you.

You were shocked at yourself too. It seemed as if your feelings for him strengthened and affirmed themselves as a solid crush. You didn’t think it would be in you to be upfront, though. There’s one good thing to get out of it, which was testing the waters.

You wanted to know if he aligned with your type in the bedroom. Strong exterior, masculine but comfortable in his skin; all this to contrast with a softer, submissive, obedient interior.

It quickly became a little game in your head to tease him as much as possible.

“I’m kidding! But good job, that’s impressive.”

Hours after that, your praises wouldn’t stop. They followed him as you two continued the fitness assessment, and they rang in his clouded head even as he made it home.

—

He rushed to his bathroom mirror the moment he made it to his apartment. Changbin, for the entire night, was in perpetual shock by your words. The words “good boy” rang in his head like tinnitus. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them to examine the physical discomfort he felt after leaving the gym.

He got hard. He wondered if he was hard since earlier, considering how heavy it suddenly felt in his jogger shorts. Changbin tugged on his erect length once and then twice. It wouldn’t go down, not when he was still thinking about how hot his new trainer was. How hot you were.

Changbin swore up and down that he never had a type. He thought that girls, boys, or people of any kind would appeal to him: he never factored in that someone like you would be the spitting image of a dream partner.

Strong, witty, dominant.

He felt so bad, so guilty, so filthy for thinking about you. Not only was he thinking of dating his fitness coach, but he was also thinking of what it’d be like to fuck them.

To fuck you. Or get fucked by you.

“Fuck it,” Changbin hissed as he pulled his shorts down, wishing his hand was yours.

After that first day, neither of you could stop, and it was driving the both of you crazy.

Both of your mouths were too quick for your own good. He commented once about his favorite exercise being the “clean and jerk” only for you to make him demonstrate it — the lifting one, of course. Another time, you told him you could do a “rim shot,” only for you to throw a basketball at the hoop above your head.

The image of Changbin’s flushed face at those jokes could never leave your mind. Similarly, he couldn’t get your teasingly sultry voice out of his mind. You both were too damn good at making immature jokes pass as legitimate flirting. It didn’t help that you were both so attractive to each other without even trying.

In the second session, Changbin got distracted by your ass while you were demonstrating the battle rope. The one after that, he nearly stumbled as he ran three laps around the gym next to you only because he got a whiff of your cologne. You both just finished your fourth session and you noticed him eyeing you down even if you were talking to your coworkers and other gym regulars.

It wasn’t teasing at that point, and yet, Changbin was very obviously falling for you.

After you prepared your bags to end your shift and congratulated him on another session done, you walked over to lean on a counter. You were about to leave work soon but took your time as you watched your client make his way to the locker rooms and showers.

Your elbows were propped up on the edge of the high table, your torso leaning forward while your legs stood back, allowing your back to arch. The pose accentuated the natural curvature of your ass and it didn’t help that your arms squeezed on the sides of your chest. Because of that, it popped out more than it should. You were holding your water jug in one hand, ignoring the handle, and engulfing it in your palm in a way that seemed interesting.

Changbin couldn’t help but glance at you. You didn’t mind being eye candy for him at that moment.

Chris snapped you out by making his way next to you, imitating your pose and leaning on the same counter, albeit struggling to look half as alluring.

“Hi, Channie.”

Chris cocked an eyebrow at you. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Sweet spot?” At your words, you felt a presence in the distance. You shook your head and looked at Chris.

“Sour. Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

Chris squinted at you and straightened up. “Call me that and…pose like that?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking much of it.”

“Whatever. Stop acting as if your crush on Bin isn’t obvious.”

“Then why bother asking if it’s that obvious to you?”

Chris was taken aback: he thought you would flat-out deny any mutual feelings for Changbin, as he alluded to that, but you didn’t.

“So you do like him.”

You clicked your tongue. “And what about it?”

“You just seem to like my guy. That’s all.”

“Gym rats speak weirdly homoerotically, huh?” You joked, elbowing his bicep. “In all seriousness, do you think he likes me?”

You didn’t ask that out of insecurity. In fact, you were far from being insecure about the feelings. You weren’t sure why you asked that question but you thought it had to do with Changbin’s consent. After all, was he actually uncomfortable this whole time?

“As you said, why bother asking when the answer’s so obvious?”

All of that doubt washed away immediately at your coworker’s words. He wasn’t Changbin, but he knew the man like he knew the back of his hand. “Y/N. Believe me.”

Chris took a step back and looked at you from head to toe. He wasn’t doing it to check you out but instead to prove his point. The action, however, made the air thicker, but the tension didn’t seem to swell from either of you. You brushed it off and listened to Chris.

“He never told me about having a type but I know my guy’s into people like you.” Something caught his eye. Chris paused and turned his head away. “Would you look at that? Speak of the devil.”

You turned to face the same direction your coworker was looking at, only to find the source of the weird presence and tension from earlier. Changbin was staring at the both of you with his bags in his hands.

His slightly agape mouth, tight grip on the bags, and creased eyebrows were giveaways of confusion, bewilderment, suspicion, and jealousy.

You attempted to break the tension by waving at him and flashing your brightest smile. His gaze softened at that but returned to a frown when he watched you walk to the exit.

You bid both of them farewells for the night. After you turned your heel at the door, Changbin ran to Chris.

—

Chris sat down on a bench as Changbin approached him. He listened to his friend’s weirdly gruff voice. “Christopher, dude.”

“Hm? What’s up?” He nearly laughed, wondering why you and Changbin chose the worst names for him.

Changbin pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed as he sat on a chair across from him. “I need advice: I like this person. I’m really into them. I kinda think they like me back, but we don’t have anything yet. I saw them with someone else and got jealous. It’s pathetic but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Chris snorted at his friend’s ramble. “You shouldn’t worry either if you think they’re into you too. Just shoot your shot.”

“Dude, it’s hard. They just make me act up so much that I start pussying out.”

“You’re too pussy for it? Bro, it’s just Y/N, they’ll be cool with it.”

“Yeah, they—wait, what the fuck did you say?”

The world crumbled around Changbin when Chris dropped your name.

“Don’t act so surprised. Your crush on them is really obvious and I told them you liked them. They were actually talking about you earlier. Also, you’re terrible at hiding shit.”

Changbin’s heart dropped. He was glad that his suspicions were instantly debunked, but the next revelation ran his brain over.

“Jeez, Chan, let me live.”

“You’re alive dude, your pulse is just going over the roof,” Chris pointed at his friend’s smartwatch, alerting him of his heart rate.

“Since you’re being real about this, I could tell that it’s worth a shot.”

Changbin simply nodded. Chris was getting more amused at how his best friend was handling this situation.

“If you’re worried about the part of them being mean to you, just don’t sweat it. That’s their display of affection. I won’t be surprised if they start teasing or degrading you or something.”

The silence was broken by a blink and a huff came from Changbin. Chris was joking, but his jaw fell when he noticed his friend averting his eyes.

“No way. Don’t tell me you’re both into that.”

As Changbin was about to deny him again, he instead felt his heart drop. “Both?!”

“That’s what you’re concerned about? They literally tease you all the time and yet you’re worried that you both like it?”

“Obviously not.” Changbin ran his palm down his face, unsuccessfully masking the blush creeping up on his cheeks and ears.

“Bin, dude, one-up yourself.” Chris readjusted his legs in his seat to fully face his pathetic friend. “Y/N is so ahead of their feelings that I can’t even tease them, so just do it! This isn’t high school!”

“Yeah, Chan, but it’s a damn gym.”

“Same point goes for you, dumbass,” Minho, Chris’ own client, and their mutual friend interrupted. He was pulling jabs at the punching bag a few meters away from them. “I don’t mean to snoop but it’s hard not to eavesdrop when you and Y/N have both been having softcore sex here every other day.”

Changbin felt his hair rise at that.. “Minho, there’s a place you can go to for free and it’s out of my damn business.”

“So you’re not denying it?” Minho smiled and alluded back to your antics.

“Of course, I’d deny it! It’s unfair to talk about them like that!”

“Calm down bro, they’re not yours.”

“Not yet!” Changbin exclaimed a little too excitedly. His two friends laughed at his enthusiasm: that’s their “man of principles” right there.

“Anyway, bro, I have a trick you might want to try,” Minho shared with a snort. He leaned in to whisper his secret, a palm covering his lips next to Changbin’s ear.

As expected, Changbin’s eyes blew wide, eyebrows raised, and then furrowed. His jaw fell but the corners of his mouth remained in an upwards smile of disbelief.

“Try it. Lee knows best, after all.”

Chris had an inkling of what the secret was and teased Changbin. “I can’t believe we’re giving you the pep talk. You better spill everything on them on Friday. Don’t be a pussy.”

“What’s wrong with being a pussy, anyway? It’s better than being a dick,” Changbin side-eyed his two friends.

“If I’m a dick, at least I’m huge.”

“Shut up! I’ll do it. Thanks, I guess.”

Changbin took that as a deadline.

Friday night, I’ll confess. No matter what happens, I’ll tell them what I feel. He repeated those clauses like a tasty little mantra in his head.

Friday rolled around. “Changbinnie’s got this,” he muttered in support to himself. It wasn’t long before you and Changbin faced each other during yet another session.

This time, it was different. You’ve already established that this man crumples at the mere sight of you, but he seemed to have himself together in this instance. He had another trick up his sleeve, and it wasn’t just confidence.

You’d think he might have gotten over you if he wasn’t smiling dumbly at your simple greeting. He displayed almost no signs of nervousness despite his promise to himself about confessing.

“Bin,” you uttered, not missing the way his eyes lit up at the nickname. “Before we start, how much do you usually lift?”

“Ah, coach…” Changbin dipped his head downwards, looking at your shadow on the floor.

He slowly raised his head, a hand shying around the nape of his neck, feigning shyness and innocence with a meek grin and a question for an answer.

“How much do you weigh?”

“Pardon?” Your eyes bulged out of your head.

“H-How much do y-you weigh, coach?” He stuttered as he repeated himself.

It took you a second to unclench your jaw. It wasn’t the subject of the question itself that put you off: you knew he wouldn’t do anything horrible with that information. Your concern was what kind of flirtation technique he was going for. You could infer he learned it from the two men eyeing you on the other end of the gym. Chris and Minho were giggling a little too hard at Changbin’s antics. Might as well roll with it.

You freely disclosed your weight to Changbin. He smiled excitedly and raised an eyebrow.

“Just wait here.”

With Chris and Minho’s minimal assistance almost comically organized on cue, he came back with a barbell, dropping it with pride.

“I can lift this easily.”

You mentally calculated the weights on either end of the bar. The total matched the same exact number you described.

He’s lifting your weight.

You gasped in disbelief. He grabbed the bar and effortlessly swung it off the ground. He was doing a good job at making this game harder for you to win especially with his signature smirk.

You smiled back at him. “Sure you could.”

Changbin dipped his head again. He seemed genuinely shy this time.

“Tell me how and I’ll do it.”

Your eyes beamed up from the weights to his face. You were going to give Changbin quite the session, not knowing his plans to confess later into the night.

—

“You’re doing great, Binnie!” You exclaimed as he pushed the barbell upwards for what was supposed to be the last time today. You two agreed upon one set of bench presses, but after watching him go through two sets the other day, you decided to give him a few more reps. “One more!”

“Okay,” Changbin huffed in response. He pushed again.

His biceps tensed and his chest flexed with them. Even on his last push, he was still maintaining his form, just the way he needed it.

Just the way you wanted it.

A series of thoughts ran through your head down to your heart at once. Maybe it’s his obedience, his flustered face, his biceps tensing under your command, or the fact that he chose to lift a barbell at your weight, but you suddenly felt a pang in your chest seeing him comply with your demands right away.

To be fair, he teased you first today, and he was responding to your teases in subtle ways that satisfied you. You always loved to tease the people you liked; getting people to reach their blushing point is enough of a victory, but it was an achievement in and of itself to get someone huffing and puffing while looking at you, and only you, while being slightly embarrassed.

With that said, it didn’t feel like a real win until you got him to where you truly wanted him to be. Maybe that’s why you devised a plan to make him totally fold over for you.

You ultimately decided to push him, right then and there, on his very last set of bench presses.

“Nice! One more!”

Changbin whipped his head your way in confirmation. “Alright!”

“That’s good!” You exclaimed as he lifted the weight again with only the slightest hint of a struggle. “One more!” You didn’t want to back down.

“One more?” Changbin cocked both of his eyebrows up. His grunts turned into heavy breaths and half-groans from your demands and piercing stare. “Really?”

“What do you think I said, Binnie? One more!”

Sternly, you slapped your thighs to alert him, allowing the skin around your firm muscles to jiggle.

The sight was probably more than enough to rile him up because he tightened his grip on the steel and pushed harder. The veins in his arms popped ever so slightly. His muscle lines defined themselves and his collarbone grew prominent from the intensity of his pushing. Your plan was working.

“Nice. One last?” With pure confidence in your heart, you challenged him:

“Can you take it?”

Changbin’s reaction was priceless.

Before you could think twice about going too far with the innuendos this time, you noticed the glint in his eyes. Shock turned into desperate determination as his eyes were blown wide and his jaw dropped along with the barbell in his hands. It wasn’t a look of questioning; you knew he would keep at it as you asked, but it was as if he wanted to know if he was hearing things right. He wanted to believe what you said.

Maybe he thought about you saying this to him in bed one day. At the same time, maybe he was dirtier; he probably fantasized about you saying that to him in the locker rooms. Maybe he wanted you to ask the same question before you buried your fingers deep inside him. Maybe, in a more surface-level way, he just wanted to prove you wrong.

His stare was speaking to you: I can take it. I can take you. I can take it from you. He was pleading to prove to you that he could do it.

He was pleading to please you. Pleading to take you.

Alas, he had to deal with the barbell in his hands first.

“Yes, please,” he exhaled, sounding too desperate for his liking.

Even though you wanted to push further, he was still technically going past his routine: you could expertly tell that he wasn’t up to his limit yet, but you still wanted him to be safe and comfortable even under your spell. “You sure?”

You didn’t expect his voice to rise in volume while his lips curled upwards in excitement.

“Yes, please!”

“Then give it to me!” You yelled back, flashing him the same smile as he readjusted his form.

He pushed one last time with a loud groan and gently pulled back, finishing the bench press set for real this time.

You quickly decided to finish your teasing off with something sweet.

“Alright, nice one Binnie!” You walked over to him and helped him out of the bench, lifting and moving the equipment away from him. He immediately tended to his sore arms and chest by palming at them using his slightly calloused hands.

You patted his shoulders as he sat up. Before you knew it, words escaped your lips faster than you could think or blink.

“Good boy.”

Something seemed to crack inside him. When you looked at him, his eyes had hearts in them.

Changbin had an expression of what seemed to be a mix of shock, pride, satisfaction, and arousal. After putting his limbs through your hell all day, those two simple words of praise broke through his system: it shot through his ears, the post-exercise dopamine rush, and your words mixed and rang through his temples. Your words were so simple yet the phrase shook him thoroughly. Your words traveled down to his heart at lightning speed.

Your words also went down to his crotch.

Your plan worked a little too well.

“Thanks f-for today coach. I’ll just…restroom.”

Changbin shifted in his seat and got up almost a little too quickly. His thighs wobbled as he desperately tried to hide his erection.

“Go ahead, it’s okay,” you chuckled to yourself, watching him walk faster whilst fixing himself in his cycling shorts.

“I’ll see you then!”

Changbin’s heart was racing. He was getting so worked up that his smartwatch was screaming at him to calm down.

“Goddamn fuckass Fitbit,” he cursed.

He was getting hard again. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and locked himself up in a stall. His pulse was making its way down to his cock. He needed to make his way back home but he felt so feral and horny at whatever you did to him earlier.

Thankfully, he seemed to be the only one left in the gym. A dose of anxiety rushed through his blood from the thought of still getting caught, but most importantly, he hated the thought of thinking about you like this.

He reached down on the waistband of his shorts, slipping a hand underneath the fabric. A wet hiss left his mouth as he wrapped a hand around his cock. His other hand took the hem of his shirt into his mouth, exposing the skin of his torso and hardened nipples.

All he could hear in his head was your voice.

Can you take it?

He could, but he felt guilty for wanting to.

Good boy.

But good boys don’t play with dirty minds alone.

He almost drooled through his shirt, biting harder, only to be interrupted by the sound of a clang on the lock of the bathroom’s main door.

Shit. He wasn’t so alone after all.

He immediately fixed himself up, pretended to be done doing business in the stall, and walked out even if he was still annoyingly erect.

Suddenly, his skin went pale when he realized that you were the one who entered the room.

“Ah! Coach!”

“Ch-Changbin?!” The two of you screamed at the same time and jumped back at each other.

You started apologizing profusely for walking in on him. “Holy shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were still here!”

“Me too! I-I thought you went home already,” Changbin responded, his mouth trembling, still in shock,“I was, uhm, fixing my things. What’re you doing here?”

Your hand made its way to the back of your head. “C-Closing up the gym. I thought I was the last one here. I’m sorry!”

“Hey, please. I took too long, I’m gonna take my leave now.”

Changbin gave you a reassuring smile but unexpectedly dropped it when he realized something he missed.

You better spill everything on them on Friday. Don’t be a pussy.

He forgot to confess.

The both of you had gotten so deep into the flirting and teasing to the point that he forgot his main goal of the day. Leaving with a bunch of burnt calories and a horny mind was still not enough to let his heart rest.

“B-But, uhm, I can stay a little while. I’ll help you close the gym.”

“It’s okay. You must rest, you seem tired!”

“Nah. I’ve rested up enough, stretched and everything.”

“I insist. Take a seat, it’s alright.”

“Thank you.”

You took a few minutes of checking the ventilation systems and stalls. You sifted through the lockers in case anything got left behind. It wasn’t as nasty as it usually would have been — courtesy of Chris suspiciously cleaning it up before leaving. What if he intentionally did that in advance in case the both of you settled here; which is, unfortunately, the case? You’re just glad that you confirmed only the both of you were there in the gym.

Returning to the main hall of the bathroom, you found Changbin sitting anxiously, bouncing his leg and locking his bottom lip in between his teeth. He wanted to tell you something. You wanted to say something. Neither of you did anything for a few seconds, merely sharing a stare with hearts behind your eyes.

Deciding to offer a massage was your best course of action.

“Sorry, the routine earlier was rough on you.” Before Changbin could retort, you quickly added. “Say, do you want a massage? It helps with sore muscles.”

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to!”

“But it helps ease the pain, trust me!” You walked closer, going behind the bench. You placed your hands on Changbin’s shoulder blades, keeping him sat in place before he could object. “They say I give the best massages. What do you think?”

You gave him all the time in the world to decide amidst his inner conflict because he, unfortunately, couldn’t think. You could feel his skin heating up under your palms, the temptation to turn his neck to face you creeping up on him, but he knew wiser. He grew grateful that he was facing away since he was still dangerously hard. Rain might pour on him if he kept looking at you.

Because he couldn’t handle much more of your contact, he made the stupid choice and allowed you to massage him.

“Sure. You can do it if that’s okay.” Whatever, he was actually none the wiser.

“Of course it is,” you said as you squeezed his arm with a smile.

Your fingers ran up and down his shoulders and biceps. They made their way to his neck and collarbone in soothing circular motions, your fingertips leaving indents on his skin through his shirt. Hard muscles tensed and relaxed under your touch, but you could feel jerks beneath you. The simplest actions made his chest tremble and his cock twitch. He hid it by squeezing his legs and hoped you didn’t notice.

You could smell him. Whiffs of the same sweet fabric softener mixed with an expensive cologne entered your nose, but a certain masculine musk was mixed in. You could tell it apart from sweat. You looked down at him and noticed the surprisingly large imprint in his shorts. That’s when it hit you. It was—

“Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

Any further thoughts scurried away to the back of your brain at his sudden serious tone. You were about to ask if it was about the massage but he sounded firm with himself.

“I’m sure you can tell by now, but I’ll be upfront about it.”

Changbin inhaled and exhaled. An air of peace surrounded the both of you.

“I have feelings for you. I’ve thought about it and…I really do like you.”

You were taken aback. You saw it coming, but you still shook your head to check if this was real. You’ve heard the same set of words before from other people but none of them hit quite like this. Confessions coming from your clients were the least of what you expected, but it was a welcome surprise.

“You don’t have to reciprocate, I just wanted to let you know that.”

Maybe he took the opportunity that he was facing away from you, but you turned to the side to see his face. It was only then that you saw him, face flushed all over, eyes shining, skin glistening with sweat and some sort of handsome glow. The both of you basked in each other’s presence and waited patiently.

“Changbin…”

Time seemed to halt and you felt your heart floating at your own words.

“I know, it’s a lot. I’m sorry I—”

“No, Bin, I like you too.”

Changbin’s gaze at you impossibly softened more as he stood up. He inched closer to you, taking in your beauty as if you were an apparition.

He brought his hands next to your face, hesitating. “May I?”

At this point, you could only think with your heart and your core. He looked insatiable, lovely, and pretty. You were all sorts of beautiful and handsome to him too at that moment. Neither of you could hold yourselves back. You thought he was being impossibly polite for not kissing you on the spot, so that’s what you did.

You held his hand next to your cheek and cupped his face with your other, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss.

His eyes grew wide before closing slowly. The both of you took your time, relishing in the softness of both of your lips, pouting into each other and pressing the flesh as if you both got a taste of heaven for the first time.

You pulled away and your foreheads pressed against each other while the tips of your noses clashed adorably between your faces. He softly smiled and you mirrored him before diving in for another kiss.

Lightning cracked within you. As you kissed, your arms roamed around his body, your hands snaking his hips, and you pulled him closer with gentle force. Your tongue darted out mid-kiss and started licking his lips as if you lost control. He tasted so sweet even if he seemed so shocked.

“Ah!”

An adorable moan escaped his throat and fire erupted within your core.

“I like you too,” you said, “but I need you.”

Sparks made their way to both of your crotches. Hands trailed to your waist while yours pulled on his hips. Changbin grunted at the feeling of his plush flesh being held firmly, making you squeeze your fingertips.

“Fuck, I need you too.” Changbin whimpered slightly. Without thinking of it, your fingers danced their way up his sides and pulled slightly on his shirt, making their way over his chest. Your fingers circled his hardened nipples. He struggled to continue. “I’ve…been needing you since day one.”

“Since the first session?”

“Since we first met.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and slid your tongue on his adam’s apple in one quick motion. “How did you hold back for so long?” Changbin asked, attempting to ground himself by asking you more questions instead of moaning.

“How did you?”

“Can’t you tell I couldn’t?” He said, eyeing down at himself through a half-lidded stare.

You chuckled. “Need help with it?”

“Please, Y/N,” Changbin pleaded, his voice betraying him, lacing his words with desperation.

Without another word, your arm darted and pulled down on his shorts, instantly exposing his lower half. His underwear was thankfully cooperating; the waistband snapped around his thighs as your hands released from the swift motion, eliciting a very loud moan from Changbin.

His cock surprised you. It wasn’t the lengthiest, but it grew in size ever since you discovered the dick print earlier. What he lacked in length, he made in sheer girth. It was thick, so much so that it looked heavy. It was heavy: the moment you held it, your fingers struggled to wrap around him, and your hand nearly slipped from failing to lift it.

Training yourself to hold the bars on barbells clearly didn’t train you enough to hold his dick properly.

“What a big boy,” you muttered.

“I-I’m not, really.”

“You are. I bet I can’t fit you.”

Before he even got the chance to protest, he watched you prove yourself right by getting on your knees and taking him in your mouth. Your lips only managed to fit around his tip. You would go deeper, but his girth filled your mouth so much and so fast.

The sudden actions left Changbin struggling to keep himself steady. You circled an arm around his waist, nonverbally telling him to sit himself down. He got distracted by the firm flex of your arm before following, slowly sitting down.

What he didn’t expect, though, was allowing you to swing his leg over your shoulder as you took more of his cock in your mouth. Not long after, he felt something foreign prodding at him.

The additional contact only piled onto the pleasure so he didn’t dare try to stop it. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the sensations of your tongue circling his tip and your hand building up the pace. It was only when you paused and spoke that he finally decided to look at you.

“Is this alright?”

Peering down at you left him speechless.

A finger teased his ass and made its way around the rim of his hole. As he stared at it, letting drool pool under his tongue, you looked up at him with swollen lips.

“W-Want it. Need it.” He gave you the same look that he flashed your way when you teased him earlier. From that alone, you knew he could take it.

You pressed your tongue against his rim for a moment, lubing it up before pressing a digit onto him. “Done this before?”

“No. Never,” Changbin huffed. “F-Feels so—Ah!”

Before he could say anything more, you stuck a finger inside him. Shockwaves rippled across his body, sensations and stings he’s never felt starting to bite him everywhere.

Your finger slid into him slowly. It stretched his walls which were tight yet somehow clean and wet. It left you to wonder if he at least prepared himself for something like this even if he’s never tried it. He writhed under you until the discomfort left him, whispering for you to keep going.

You added another finger in. You started curling them. It hit his sweet spot, causing him to groan out your name and flinch all over. Pleasure and ecstasy were the only things he felt and the only other word he could mutter was your name.

“It’s so fucking g-good.”

“And you’re so good. Taking me so well. Such a pretty boy.” The praises became addicting to him, causing him to push his hips and rut against your fingers, chasing a high.

“Fuck. So, so—ah—so good.”

“You like this, don’t you?” You responded to his mumbling with a smirk.

“Love it.” He breathed out. “Love it—ah—love you. Y/N, I love you so m-much.”

Changbin could only manage to repeat the same thing over and over, his mind fogging with nothing but arousal as he melted under your touch. He didn’t just want your lips on his, he didn’t just want your fingers in him, he didn’t merely want his cock inside you. He needed you, all of you, your sex, your self, and more; he just couldn’t say it clearly when your fingers curled against his prostate.

Eventually, the cock in your mouth twitched. That was a telltale sign that he was about to finish. Changbin patted your head and signaled you to stop.

“I-I don’t wanna cum yet.”

Your lips popped off his cock as you looked up at him. “Hmm? Why?”

The sight of you like this drove his mind until it went hazy. With vision blurring in pure ecstasy, words blending, he felt like he was losing himself under you. “Need…need to f-fuck…”

“Too much? We can stop—”

“No. No, don’t stop,” he whined. “I just—please, Y/N, I need to fuck you. Bad.”

Practically pleading, he pulled you up off your knees by wrapping strong hands around your biceps and mindlessly licked a stripe across your lips. You pulled away from the wet kiss to find his face flushed impossibly deeper and his cheeks puffed up. His mouth was trembling and he seemed to not be able to speak any further.

“Going dumb for me, Binnie?”

“Mhm,” Changbin nodded, not denying—no, not even processing what you had just told him. You brought your hand up to cup his face, only to be shocked when he immediately nuzzled against it.

“How pathetic. We’ve barely fucked and you went dumb over two fingers?” You brought up the fingers that entered him earlier, showing the wetness to him.

He whined, sweet vowels of no words squeaking out of him. After shying away, he looked back at the digits and brought them to his mouth.

You were speechless at his neediness. You watched him blissfully suck on them before he pulled away and mumbled. “Want more.”

You smiled at him and pecked his cheek. The following gestures happened in a flash, and you had yourselves fully exposed to each other. Blinking eyes at your figure, Changbin was legitimately drooling in awe of your figure, tears stinging his eyes at your beauty.

“Pretty…”

“Thank you,” you giggled, wiggling your ass in front of him until your cheeks made contact with his V-line.

You suddenly had an idea. Like earlier, it would be fun to safely challenge him while he’s in a cute headspace. “You lifted weights that were exactly my weight, right?”

“Mhm. Yes Y/N.”

“Prove to me that you can actually do it.” You traced his jaw, feeling his figure from behind your body, watching him with nothing but touches.

“Fuck me while carrying me, Binnie.”

It ignited something within him because he instantly lifted you off the floor with ease. Teasing your fleshy, wet entrance with free fingers, he aligned your hole with his cock. As the sensations of having your heat held by Changbin, he sank you onto him.

He started thrusting into you after a minute of adjusting. “Am I—fuck! Am I heavy? Light?”

“No, no, just right. So g-good.” Changbin kissed your neck, thrusting out of you before digging himself further inside. “Wanna—ah! Wanna fuck you f-forever.”

“Changbin,” you breathed out. “Arms…around me.”

You pointed to the general area of your neck and shoulders. The signal left Changbin in disbelief for a second. Complying was easy for him but he still felt nervous. He didn’t want to suffocate you but he was also chasing your praise. Wordlessly, he swung an arm across your neck and latched his hand on your chest, allowing you room to breathe as he squeezed tight. You were in a literal headlock; a fantasy you never realized would come true.

He didn’t expect the position to make his job easier. It allowed him to piston into you with force while kissing and marking up the side of your neck that wasn’t being squeezed by the meat of pure muscle. You could hear his extremely loud moans better in one ear while the other half of your face was being massaged by flexing skin. Thankfully, the man — who you’d forgotten was your professional gym buddy — was careful enough, pecking you every once in a while, syncing his breaths with yours to check if you were okay.

The thrusts became erratic and your bodies heated each other every time you both made contact. He reached down to touch and tease your heat while you leaned back to hold and squeeze his ass cheeks as much as you could. He moaned louder and started shaking as you groped him harder. You felt his hardness drilling into you, leaving you wetter than ever.

He couldn’t stop whining. Changbin never intended to make so many restrained noises slip in the gym. He whined almost the same way he did each time you teased him as he lifted weights. It was the same, high-pitched, unbelievably sweet plea that escaped his throat with a tremble at the end. This time, however, it was louder, needier, more shameless, and more desperate. This time, there was no restraint. There was no point in holding back anymore.

You could almost taste heaven, and you called out his name over and over, signaling your need to finish.

“C-close—cumming,” he whined. His cock started to feel firmer as it pounded you. “Cumming, I’m cumming, I-I can’t…”

The both of you could feel each other get wetter and wetter. Your walls clenched and unclenched around him, trapping him inside you, urging him to finish with you.

“Let go, Binnie, c-cum for me. It’s okay. Cum with me.”

“Ah—thank you!”

After a few thorough, full, and harsh thrusts, Changbin sank himself deep within you one last time and came inside as you creamed all over him as well. Both of your voices were strained especially after screaming in unison as you finished.

It took a while to ground yourselves back to reality, but it was worth the effort.

You both cleaned yourselves up as you gave Changbin an actual massage in the restroom. Fingers in the ass felt good but left him relearning how to stand on his own. Without your assistance, he wouldn’t know how he’d make it out of the bathroom. He also gave you rubs around the skin he squeezed and thrust onto. Giggles and kisses here and there against running water felt calming and domestic. The both of you put your extra clothes on and sat yourselves down on the same bench.

After packing your things, you realized how fucked out he still looked. He looked pretty with his cheeks puffed out, eyes still glossy, and lips parted as they were tinted with your love earlier. Though he’s cute this way, he still seemed so tired, neck hunched as if his previous horny thoughts weighed his head down. You naturally felt bad so you silently patted your shoulder. Your signal urged him to inch closer and collapse his head beside your collarbone.

“Again, thank you,” Changbin said with a shy smile. “Didn’t expect this, but seriously, thank you.”

“No worries. I’m always happy to help you.”

He shook his head at your response. “Uhm…this…this will—this is going to sound—well…” Changbin stuttered as he fidgeted with his flushed hands. “I don’t mean to be rude so I wanted to ask…”

He was a stammering mess. He thought his words over for a second before lifting his head a little higher. “Could we…hang out sometime? I just…I want to spend more time with you, is all.”

Your eyes lit up at his words. “Oh, of course, sure!”

“Oh, hah, okay. Thank you. I just wanted to be sure, I didn’t want to make it seem like…I only see you like this. I-I don’t. I really like you—I really love you. I’d love to know you better outside of this.”

As the words escaped his mouth, the confident and bright Leo man that you admired seemed to reemerge before you. You have to admit: despite everything, Changbin’s one hell of a respectful, wonderful gentleman. Clarifying that he wasn’t objectifying you should be the bare minimum, but you could sense within his intentions that he means it and more.

“No need to sweat it, Binnie,” you responded, making him blush again.

“Really?” Changbin jokingly wiped the sweat off his forehead, making the both of you giggle. The air was warm but the energy you two shared was chill at the same time.

“Really, though. I appreciate it. I’d love to know you better, too.” You pressed a kiss on his temple, reheating his cheeks.

The both of you exited the gym with your hands interlocked. He smelled like sex, shampoo, and you, but who gives a fuck?

You never really expected your client, the one and only Seo Changbin, to be your boyfriend after five sessions alone.

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @turnipfizzle @my-favorite-bangchan @chrisbahng @hanniecheesecake

special mentions to @hyun-bun and @ppiri-bahng for their own gym-themed writing that inspired multiple parts of this fic as well, please check them out! hugest thank you to @meivida for proofreading and sending me endless reassurance and support!!

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!changbin #dom!reader #stray kids smut #changbin smut #💬 z is writimg

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lumiconic · 1 year

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“ if you’d say you love me ”

✧ some way or another, every member of the global pop sensation 6REEZE has fallen head over heels for you.

✧ kunikuzushi, venti, kazuha, heizou, aether, xiao ; fluff, slight hurt comfort ; idol au ; not proofread

the first to be sucked into your irresistible gaze is kunikuzushi, known as the main dancer kuni to 6REEZE’s devoted fanbase, STORM’S EYE. it’s almost funny, considering how kuni is known for being the sharpest and most angry member of the group, who dismissively flicks his hand at fans pleading for his autograph. somehow, it was always you who was able to see past his thorny exterior to the blazing passion underneath.

as the group’s manager, you know almost everything about each of the boys, from their favorite colors to their most coveted dreams. only kuni refused at first to open up to you, calling it a waste of time because he had more important things to do than team-building. there were some tiny hints of disappointment on your face whenever he opted out of the group hangouts early, but you never forced him into anything, no matter how eager everyone else was.

yet, there was some tiny part of him, buried far beneath, that almost wanted you to make him. to be given an excuse to learn more about you, and to be known as well as you knew the other boys. he never acted on it, and so it’s by complete chance the first time you show having knowledge of him beyond what he’s voluntarily shared.

he was in the rehearsal room, packing up his bag and wiping the sweat off his brow after another long day of practice. while his singing and rapping skills were mediocre – for an idol, of course, which made them still far above average – he had been scouted solely for his skill at dancing and thus had to train much more in that area than any other. while it was his passion, he still found himself exhausted beyond belief at the end of the day.

you opened the door without looking up, talking on the phone to someone about future marketing plans (i’m sorry, but if you want heizou to model that line then you need to take aether too because he doesn’t have enough deals yet). kuni cleared his throat.

your head shot up and your eyes landed on him. “kuni!” you said, sounding surprised and ending the call with a tap of your finger. “oh, do you want this? here – ” you dug in your tote for a moment, then tossed a bottle to him. startled, he threw out his hands and almost fumbled the catch.

“ragnvindr energy?” he read the label out loud. the neon pink coloring on the plastic wrap almost hurt his tired eyes, but he was still able to discern the title. “what is this?”

“isn’t that your favorite brand?” you asked, sounding surprised.

“yeah, but – how would you know that?” he said, the usual bite in his voice gone, replaced by confusion as he stared at the bottle. you tilted your head. “well, you bring it practically every day and keep it in your bag, so,” you shrugged, “i just noticed. that one’s my favorite, so i thought i’d have you try it too. which flavor do you like best?”

there was some strange pulse of feeling through his chest at those words. that casual recognition, the easy way you stated that you had noticed something about him. that you were paying attention. He couldn’t explain why it felt so important. so heady and exhilarating in a way that almost rivaled the feeling of dancing.

“green tea,” he said, without thinking. “the more bitter it is, the better.”

you laughed, and he sucked in a breath. the sound was like – the first rays of light peeking over the horizon in the morning; like rain drumming on leaves in the midst of a storm. like music. so easily, he could be lost in that rhythm the way he gets swept into a song even in just the first few beats of an addictive melody.

“green tea, huh. you aren’t supposed to have that much caffeine, but i saw how hard xiao was pushing you today.” you lifted your shoulders in a what can you do gesture, then pressed your index finger to your lips. “maybe try to drink more water in the future, but for now you definitely deserve this. let’s keep it our secret, okay?”

“o-okay,” kuni stumbled over the word, surprise still freezing his wide-eyed expression in place, hating the choked breath lingering in his throat as you smiled back at him. a blush rose to his face at the sight, coloring the apples of his cheeks bright red. “thanks.”

“of course! once this next m/v comes out, you’ll have more room to breathe,” you said reassuringly. “just hold out til then.” he nodded, not trusting himself to speak without his voice cracking embarrassingly. what is this? [name] of all people, causing this reaction? get yourself together! they’re just your damn manager, not your –

he silenced his inner thought before it could finish that humiliating sentence.

“well, see you later,” you said, waving goodbye and leaving the room as you tugged your phone out of your bag, already returning to your itinerary of plans to make. there was silence for a long moment, his eyes still focused sightlessly towards the door. kuni looked at the bottle in his hand, turning it over multiple times before unscrewing the cap, lifting it up, and dumping the whole thing over his head.

he stood there for a moment, the smell of artificial sunsettia flavoring soaking through his hair and cool, sticky juice dripping down his cheeks, soaking into his long sleeved exercise shirt, and pooling at his feet, an speechlessly angry and dumbfounded expression on his face. the heat in his cheeks refused to dissipate. then he took a deep breath in, hoisted his bag over his shoulders, and headed for the showers.

the second person to be enchanted by you is venti, the main singer, with a pleasant, boyish voice that can go unexpectedly deep and serious. considered immature and childish, he’s also the most rebellious of the group, in a way; the one who would disappear for hours at exactly the wrong times, fetching expensive gifts for the other members and interrupting meetings with the company heads to interject his own opinions on music and production.

this was yet another day that he was spending doing the opposite of what he was meant to; visiting a local café, one of his personal favorites because of their cutely decorated cakes and lattes, wearing thick black sunglasses and a face mask.

currently, he was hurrying away from the café, holding a bag with a small box of petit fours and a caramel-apple flavored special edition coffee, trying to lay out his plans for the rest of the day. i just need to get out of here, then i’ll get right back to the company and start practicing again. it’ll only be about ten minutes to go straight home, it shouldn’t take that long…

“oh my god! is that venti?! like, from 6REEZE?!”

… damn it.

“can i please get a photo? i love 6REEZE, i know all your songs! i have, like, every single photocard released since you debuted!” the nervous babble of the girl who spotted him was admittedly somewhat flattering. “h-hey, sure, a photo’s fine!” venti said, a dazzling smile leaping to his face as he bent slightly to make a peace sign at the camera. the girl clutched her phone in both hands as she took the photo, like it was a priceless item of some kind.

“oh, me too, please! you’re my favorite!” begged her friend, bouncing excitedly; her hysterical voice reached a new pitch as venti did finger hearts in her photo. “hey, what’s going on over there?” “what, is he some kind of celebrity?” voices began to bubble through the crowd at the noise, and soon enough, there was an entire group of people shoving up against him, asking for pictures and autographs and asking questions that he could barely hear.

panic was starting to burn in his chest, flustered words of hey, excuse me, i’ve really got to go spilling from his lips, with no end in sight to the mayhem. then, he spotted a familiar figure; you, hand shielding your eyes from the sun, peering out over the crosswalk for, presumably, him. your gaze lit on the commotion, and then on him. your jaw dropped slightly in surprise at the uproar being caused simply by his presence.

he made eye contact with you through the crowd, panic sparking in his eyes, an unmistakable help me forming on his lips. there was annoyance on your face, and for a second he thought you were going to leave, but instead you opened your mouth as wide as it would go and shouted, “HEY! IS THAT CHILDE FROM DCKZ?” pointing – somewhat unkindly – at a random passerby, a tall boy with bright ginger hair.

screams rose from the crowd, the unique sound of teenagers seeing their favorite, most handsome celebrity crush, and in the following roar of sound as the poor boy was swarmed without warning, venti was able to slip away, flicking his sunglasses back down onto his face.

you met him in the center of the crosswalk, quickly starting to walk again. you chided him gently, smacking his arm with the back of your hand at his impulse to suddenly disappear, and he apologized, only sort of meaning it.

“part of me is kinda annoyed that someone like childe would get more attention than me,” venti remarked wryly, hooking his mask with one finger and pulling it back over his face, careful to tuck his two toned braids into the back of his hoodie. “with his one-note singing, he shouldn’t have half the audience i do.”

“sure, but don’t worry, that won’t last for long,” you said, your eyes sparkling with determination as you strode confidently through the streets; venti’s slightly shorter legs scrambled to keep up with your quick, assertive pace. “you’ll be a superstar someday. i’ve always been sure of it.”

there was a sudden, strange feeling of a lump in his throat; his green eyes flickered to your back, the 6REEZE tour hoodie that you were wearing and its list of sold out dates written down the smooth, high quality fabric, and strange whispers of memory fluttered into his mind. a thousand days spent practicing, the moments right before rising onto the stage, his heart pounding so hard he could barely think and sick nervousness boiling in his stomach, rendering him almost unable to speak. and you, of course, holding out a water bottle, a sheet of lyrics, a helping hand, as always.

his breath caught and a frantic whirl of thoughts spilled into his mind. the feeling that there’s something he was always overlooking before, something obvious that he never noticed even though it was right in front of his face, like he was missing something crucial, something so important that now that he had noticed its absence it was like a puzzle piece had been cut out of his still beating heart.

wind blew past his face, and time seemed to slow down in the next second; you turned, a smile flitting to your lips and the words “hey, go a bit faster!” falling into the air as your hand flashed out, connecting the space between you, and grabbed his wrist. in that moment, there was no other way to describe you than… angelic, with golden sunshine drenching your face, your fingers cool against his skin, and he struggled, suddenly, to take air into his lungs.

“anyway, what did you leave for?” you asked, abruptly breaking the spell. venti shook his head, disoriented. “w… what? oh – i,” he held up his paper bag sheepishly. “i wanted to get a coffee.”

“oh? from where?”

“just this café i like,” he said, almost embarrassed of the answer. “well, can i try something?” you asked. he fumbled in the bag for a moment before taking out a small pastry, a layered cube of strawberry shortcake. you popped it into your mouth and chewed for a moment, and he found himself holding his breath with the hope that you would like it.

“wow, that’s really good,” you said with surprise. “can i come with you next time?”

there was no excuse for the shot of adrenaline that rushed through him at the innocent question, and he was so thankful that you weren’t facing him as a giddy smile crossed his face. “sure thing!” he said, brightening, and quickened once more to continue in pace with you.

the third person to melt into your fascinating mind is kaedehara kazuha, the songwriter of the group and main rapper; a fan favorite for his calm and relaxing exterior that belies a fierier soul underneath. it helped, of course, that he wrote extremely popular and romantic songs. you had a strong friendship with him, as he was the member you had known the longest, practically since he was a trainee and you were both much younger.

right now, he was laying on the floor of your apartment and listening to a demo track of a new song, already planning the words to the sweet, delicate piano melody, while you sat on the couch scribbling in a spiral bound notebook, eyebrows knit in a concentrated expression. you heaved a sigh, ripping out a sheet of paper and crumpling it into a ball before tossing it on the floor frustratedly. kazuha paused the music. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m just – trying to figure this out,” you sighed. “the words just won’t come to me.”

“what are you writing?”

“… poetry,” you said begrudgingly. when he laughed, hiding the surprised and excited thump his heart made when he heard that word, and then the following shock at those emotions, you threw a pillow at him. “stop it! you write this kind of thing too!”

“yes, but i get paid to do it,” he pointed out, refraining to mention that it was also his main pastime outside of his idol duties. “can i see it?” you shook your head instantly, and his lips tugged downwards into a frown. so, [name] writes poetry. what a coincidence. his eyes glittered, fixing his unhappy look on you.

you closed your notebook and gave him a big smile, slightly pained in a way he could only recognize due to your years of friendship. “really, it’s just a hobby. it’s about time for dinner anyways. shall i start making something?”

“no, show me,” he requested, tilting his head, dark red eyes locked onto yours. “please?” he wanted to see them so badly, a hint of desperation seeped into his voice. he almost cringed at that sound. but why was he so curious? of course, he inexplicably loved the idea that you had one of the same hobbies as him. composing poetry and songs? it was as if you were made to be together.

he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, and tasted salt on his tongue for a second, the pain jolting him back into his right mind. partners, of course, is what he meant. friends. nothing more than that. how could he be having such stupid thoughts about you, his oldest friend?

your voice drew him into reality again. “okay, fine, just don’t judge me. it’s… really dumb,” you admitted, closing your eyes and cracking open the spine of the notebook. kazuha ran his fingertips over the paper, ridged with line after line of your cramped handwriting in thick ink. as he took in the contents of the pages, his eyes widened. this is…

“a love poem?” he said aloud. you squeezed your eyes shut as he started to read the words halfway down the page. “… lost to me like dandelion fluff / i grasp for another handful / another breath, wishing for you cupped in my hands.” he rocked backwards, clapping his hand over his mouth not soon enough to muffle the laughter.

your cheeks colored and you snatched the notebook back. “ugh, kazuha! get out of here! i didn’t even finish it yet!”

“no, no! i’m not laughing at you!” he said, though he was a bit. such a tacky way of words, and yet… “it’s just so sentimental, i never would have expected this from you. it’s, sort of sweet.”

“well, you never know,” you said, placated slightly by his words. “and anyway, i’d never show it to anyone but you. it’s just for fun.”

you’d never show it to anyone but me? logically, he knew there were a thousand reasons for you to say that, ranging from him being another poet, to him being your close friend. and yet, he latched onto the one he wanted the most.

“who’s it for?” he asked, as casually as he could, as calmly and slowly as he could. as if there was no meaning behind that question at all. as if the idea that such a poem could maybe, possibly be for him didn’t make his heart explode into fireworks of joy, without him even knowing why. no, not quite; of course, he knew why. his job was writing love songs, anyway. he had just never thought that of all people, it would be you who caused these feelings he’d sang about a thousand times yet never experienced.

“i’m not telling,” you said, sticking your tongue out childishly before looking embarrassed. his heart plummeted into his stomach. even though it was an answer to be expected. he couldn’t explain this crushing disappointment at your refusal to speak. “w-well, anyway… why don’t we go get something to eat now?”

it was unmistakably an escape from a conversation you didn’t want to continue. yet, kazuha wanted to ask you to wait, so he could see another poem of yours. even if it led to heartache, he wanted to know so badly that it almost hurt. the possibility of you writing something like that for him was something he wanted more than anything in that instant. and yet…

more than that, he wanted you to be comfortable around him. that was truly what he wanted most. so… “okay, sure,” he obliged, and you set down your precious notebook as the two of you stood to leave, him casting one more glance towards it and wondering after its tantalizing contents.

as you both stood in the elevator, waiting for its descent to the bottom floor, he turned to you. “hey, what was the name of that poem again?”

“dandelions,” you said, another embarrassed flush tinting the tips of your ears. “it’s silly, but— ”

“no, it isn’t. dandelions,” he repeated, the word tingling on his tongue. it felt like he was on the verge of something new, somehow, that familiar warm, sparking feeling he always got right before an idea for a brand new project. “i like it.”

the next single is soon released, titled wishes in the breeze, a heartfelt ode laced with sugary-sweet declarations of love for an unknown person. you find a copy of the tape– its cover plastered with an image of the boys sitting together with their backs to the camera, kazuha in the middle, one eye showing as he turns his head– outside your apartment door; in the liner notes of the tape are shreds of a poem in red ink.

the third to fall prey to your beauty is shikanoin heizou, the main visual and most outgoing, charismatic member of 6REEZE. of course, he’s quite talented as the other members, but his true strength is in his magnetic personality that draws in new fans almost every day. he always knows just what to say, a perfect comeback locked and loaded on his tongue and ready to burst no matter what the situation is.

after wishes in the breeze won ‘best new pop song’ at a prestigious teyvat awards event, you and 6REEZE were invited to a celebration dinner with many other famous artists. heizou was standing with the other members and holding small talk with a punk-pop girl band trio that recently released an album that swept the awards, golden apple.

“heya, [name] just came in,” the shortest girl said, tilting her head towards the entrance. “ain’t that ya manager, heizou?” he smiled instantly, and agreed, “ah, yes!” with a gleeful look on his face. “i wasn’t sure they were going to show up, they don’t usually like big crowds, but i guess this was too important of an opportunity to pass up.”

he swiveled to greet you, hand already raising in a wave, and as his gaze landed on you, the world seemed to stop turning for a moment, the words falling out of his mouth and disappearing.

highlighted underneath the dancing lights, there you were; in a forest green tuxedo, the silken material of your sleeves almost glowing as you rubbed the back of your neck nervously. your hair was styled in such a way that you looked like royalty, sweeping over your shoulders, and when you turned your head slightly and the bright color of your eyes was caught in the glimmer from the spotlights above, he could just feel his heart in his throat and the bittersweet taste of longing.

heizou was unable to speak for a few seconds, almost unable to breathe. it was lucky for him that kazuha caught sight of you and waved you over, because he couldn’t get a single syllable out, let alone a greeting. you crossed the room to the small group.

“how fancy,” kuni scoffed, sharp nose turned up as he jutted out his chin. “no wonder it took you so long to get here, primping like this.”

you pulled at your sharp collar. “it’s a little stifling,” you said with just a hint of sweat to betray your flustered interior underneath your calm expression. “i don’t usually get dressed up like this, but… it’s for such a special occasion, and it’s a little fun too – ”

“it looks amazing, [name]!” venti exclaimed, stars in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and pumped it up and down. “seriously, the best! you didn’t have to go so all out for us, we would have been happy with just a fancy sash or something,” he laughed. you accepted his handshake without a change of expression, as the other boys oohed and aahed dutifully.

“i mean, come on! this is so fancy, i’m shocked to see [name] all dressed up and looking sharp! i wish we could see you like this more often,” venti continued, turning to look at heizou with a smile. “right?”

the question was surely meant innocently, as a query for the other contender for flirtiest member. it was most likely that venti had expected only a oh yes, it’s quite stunning, but not as stunning as [name]’s cute face by itself. but heizou had no smart remark, instead offering only a “yeah, it’s fine,” with a flat, unchanging face, before turning on his heel and practically running for the exit. “hey!” venti said, surprised, as if trying to call him back, but it was no use; the red-head boy was already out of earshot in a matter of seconds.

“ah… ? heizou?” you said, taken aback as you watched heizou’s rapidly retreating frame. “did i… do something wrong?” a strange sadness seemed to fill your chest, and your hand fell away to rest limply by your side.

pushing through the double doors, heizou finally managed to escape. he ducked around a corner, hunching over and staring at the floor, his breathing fast with exertion and agitation. “that’s… just not fair,” he mumbled into his hand, palm pressed to his mouth and face burning red. “to suddenly show up in something like that? it’s practically playing dirty… ”

he sunk to the floor, getting dust on the legs of his suit, but he barely noticed, burying his face in his hands with only thoughts of you rushing through his head. he had no doubt the others were wondering after him, but there was no chance he could go back in his current state, barely able to think straight.

“man, [name]… you really are dreamy.”

though the mood of the celebration was dampened by heizou’s partial absence and your dejection, you managed to go to bed that night with a smile on your face due to the fun atmosphere and the others making a special effort to cheer you up. the next time you saw heizou, he presented you with a gift box tied in an intricate knot with a silk ribbon. inside, was a less formal version of that outfit, in a popular style that you could wear out on the street.

“because you said you thought it was fun,” he says, tucking his hands behind his back to conceal their shaking. “i thought you would like something like this. to wear whenever you want. but if it’s too much, or silly, i – ”

“i love it, heizou,” you say firmly, cutting him off. “thank you.” when you hesitantly pulled him into a hug, his arms came up automatically to wrap around your back, his breathing almost stopping with an nervous thrill that traveled up his spine. he wondered for a second if you could feel his heartbeat and how fast it was pounding inside his chest, before pushing the thought aside and letting himself just feel the warmth of your arms for that short moment.

the fifth person captivated by your kindness is aether, the youngest member and the least experienced, with no solid lead position. every person in 6REEZE has their fair share of fans, but he had a noticeable lack of support compared to the others; the company that managed the group, SHOGUNATE ENTERTAINMENT, just seemed to have it out for him, barely giving him any solos or spending any time marketing him.

of course, no one ever voiced their concerns at his treatment aloud, not when he seemed so truly optimistic. nobody wanted to be the person to make that grin disappear. spending all day, every day practicing, waving the others off when they asked him to take a break, every moment was dedicated to the betterment of his idol persona, never letting that golden smile drop from his face.

it felt like it was a thousand degrees on the set of their next m/v, yet aether was still practicing, the sound of their upcoming release today and tomorrow blaring through his ears. it was the only song he had heard in at least a week, but he couldn’t take a break for even a second if he wanted to remember the whole thing without one mistake.

when his twenty-third(? he lost count around number fifteen) runthrough of the song finally finished, leaving him kneeling on the floor, he shut off the music. in the silence of the empty room, there was some kind of pounding still echoing in his head, making it hard for him to think straight. as he rose to his feet, his vision blacked out for a moment.

“aether, you’re still here?” said a sudden voice, laced with surprise. he looked up to find you, apparently having just entered and in the midst of rearranging a couple of set pieces. as your gaze traveled over him, your eyes widened slightly. “are you okay? you look so pale.”

“yeah, ‘m fine, just – just tired,” he mumbled, swaying on his feet slightly. your worried expression swam before his eyes. “is it hot in here, or… ?” were his last words before he stumbled and fell, the ground rushing up to meet him faster than he could react with his exhausted, nonresponsive limbs, eyes closing and unable to think properly.

huh… ?

the world pulsed around him in blinking black dots. somehow, he hadn’t hit the ground yet. it felt wrong that he would still be falling; he forced his eyes open with great struggle, and found that you had caught him. how strange… why couldn’t i move… ?

you gently lowered yourself to the floor, allowing him to rest his head against your leg. “aether,” you said, your voice pained and worried, “how hard have you been practicing? have you taken any breaks today?”

“no, i was trying to learn the choreography without – ” the words caught in his dry throat, breath scraping painfully, and you looked even more worried as he coughed. “without pausing at all.”

a tch sound escaped your lips, expression more concerned than he’d ever seen it before. “you must be so dehydrated.” you bit your lip. “aether, you know you’re just hurting yourself this way. this level of work… it’ll hinder your progress, rather than help it.”

despite the discouraging nature of your words, it was gratitude for that acknowledgement, and some thick, warm emotion that brought a strange moisture to aether’s eyes. he tried to rub at his eyes, but his hand was shaking too hard. “no, i have to do this.”

“why?” you demanded.

he barely knew how to put it into words. “i’m just… the weak link,” he said, tears pricking for a moment before he blinked them away, one hand resting on his temples and shielding his face from your concerned gaze. “i’m not good at anything, so i have to practice and practice to make up for – ”

“you’re not the weak link, aether,” you said firmly, your voice so kind and earnest that it almost brought tears to his eyes yet again. “you’re like – the glue, you can do everything perfectly well. there’s nothing wrong with not having a specialty. you work so hard, and always go out of your way to support everyone. don’t let me hear you talking like that, okay?”

“but – ” he tried to protest, then almost melted underneath the force of your angry, anxious eyes. even with the embarrassment of being in this situation, there was some foreign ember of warmth in his chest that burned hotter with every word from you. he couldn’t explain it, but it was like hearing those things from you was rejuvenating somehow; soaking into his body and leaving him feeling looser, calmer in its wake. he didn’t know if it was because it was you specifically, and he was almost afraid to think about it.

“no buts!” you snapped. “i refuse to listen to you thinking this way about yourself. you’re incredibly capable and strong, and don’t you dare bottle this up and work yourself to the point of passing out again. i know you can do it, without punishing yourself for no reason. it’ll be okay.”

“… okay,” he nodded. you pressed your hand against his forehead and winced. “you better not be getting sick. now go home and rest up. i don’t want to see you here again until tomorrow afternoon, got it?”

you walked him to the exit, making sure he drank almost the entire contents of his water bottle, with orders to go to sleep extra early. yet, even with those directions, he tossed and turned almost all night, still feeling the force of your laser-hot gaze every time he closed his eyes.

the day filming started, there was no doubt in him that he could nail the entire choreography. even xiao commented on his movements seeming more sharp than usual, his voice more fluid as well. of course, there was a reason for that, but he would never have voiced it aloud that he wanted just one more second of your eyes on him. just one more word of praise that felt so much more real coming from you than anyone else.

there was a six-second focus on him for the second chorus, and he poured all of his saved-up energy into that moment. “i want you here, i want you with me in my arms,” he sang, throwing his entire body into the next twirling movement, and pointed straight at the camera with the unfaltering wish that you would see and know he was speaking to you. “you’re my love, the one i’m wishing for, today, tomorrow, forever!”

the sixth member of 6REEZE to love you is xiao, the center and leader of the group. though STORM’S EYE has no shortage of love for him due to his mesmerizing voice and mature good looks, he is the least social of the boys, known as ‘ice prince’ because he’s so aloof and cool at fan events. there is no one in public knowledge that he chooses to let his guard down around; even in vlogs, he barely socializes and keeps to himself, practicing or listening to music on bulky headphones.

SHOGUNATE ENTERTAINMENT works mainly out of an enormous compound filled with training rooms and facilities for all of their groups and other productions. the residence reserved for 6REEZE is attached to it. technically, it could be shared by the group, but the only people who really live there are venti and xiao, and venti is almost always out on other business (or so he claims) anyway.

the roof of the apartment has an amazing view of the entire city and the sky. it’s the perfect place to go when a break and fresh air is needed, meaning xiao can almost always be found there. and now, after an incident in which a very important standalone project where he was meant to collaborate with a girl group has been cancelled due to strong pushback from fans, he’s vanished, and you know exactly where he’s gone.

watching the door still swinging shut from his sudden exit, president miko clicked her tongue carelessly. “ah, so immature. do you remember when we were young enough to be able to throw tantrums whenever things went awry, ei, dearest?” she tilted her head at the purple haired woman, who sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “we could secure another collaboration, but apparently not with any girl group. perhaps xing/yun or LUPICAL… ?” she mused. “could someone please go after him?”

“i can – ” kuni volunteered, already raising from his seat, before you rocketed to your feet, pushing your chair in. “i’m on it! please email me your consensus later!” the other boys watched, taken aback, as you gave a hasty bow and practically sprinted out.

you found him on the roof, of course, leaning over the balcony with a stony line to his jaw. you approached, and he raised his hand without greeting. “what happened back there?” you asked tentatively.

“how can they take away an opportunity so selfishly?” he spat. you weren’t sure whether he was talking about the fans or SHOGUNATE ENTERTAINMENT, but nodded anyway. as the leader, he was naturally under the most stress, and when he got into a bad mood there was nothing to do but wait it out.

“i don’t know if i can do this anymore,” he said, feeling the smallest crack in his voice and dragging a hand down his face. “we’re always being watched, always having to obey stupid rules that don’t even make sense! this was an important collaboration, i’m not a commodity that will lower in value if i work with a girl! if our fans can’t handle us acting like normal people, they aren’t even our fans, are they?”

“i know,” you said, trying to soothe him, placing a hand on his arm only for it to be shaken off. he glared out at the city for a moment, eyes focused above the horizon. “it’s just not fair,” you continued. “but xiao, there are alternatives – ”

“i don’t want alternatives,” he interrupted, “i’m not sure if i even want to be an idol sometimes. all these rules are too much.” he turned and met your eyes. “and you know the worst one of all.”

“of course i do.” you reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “but are you serious about not wanting to be an idol? because, if you ever chose to leave the company, i… can also leave.”

“you can’t put your career in jeopardy just for this.” he gave a frustrated huff. “this stupid company is just so stifling. i didn’t think being an idol would be like this when i first signed up.”

“well, that’s why i’m here, right?” you offered. “to make your life easier. my career isn’t as important, so as your manager, i could – ”

“you’re more than my manager.” his tone was gentler, the earlier roughness somehow melting away, and the words were quiet enough that nobody could possibly hear, meant only for you as he tilted his head, golden eyes finding yours. “you know that.”

“xiao.”

“i won’t let you endanger your own job prospects if i leave.”

you stared at each other for a moment. the wind stirred your hair around your face, framing it in the most beautiful way. his heart caught in his throat. the painful look of uncertainty mixed with determination that you wore was sure to be mirrored on his own face.

“i would never stay here, without you,” you said finally, your voice tight. “i’ll go wherever you go.”

he opened his mouth, unable to form words as a response to this, and you looked at him. there was nothing in your eyes but earnestness, and he thought for the millionth time how heart-stoppingly beautiful you were. he cupped your face with both hands, and there you were in silence for a long second, the cotton candy sunset gleaming down onto you.

“[name],” was the word that finally escaped his lips, taking in your sweet scent that enveloped you like an angel’s aura. you wrapped your arms around his neck, murmuring xiao in the quietest voice, a secret that wreathed through the air, like smoke curling into a calm breeze. “i love you.”

you kissed him, then; and when your lips met, he felt his worries melt away, and the overwhelming thought that he couldn’t care less if the whole world knew about your relationship; it was like he could feel everything, like he was frozen and time only started moving again when you were together. eternity could pass in a heartbeat and he would never know, not when he was holding you.

whether 6REEZE was together or not, whether he stayed an idol, or the trifling problems of his everyday life – nothing like that seemed to matter when he was with you. it felt inconsequential. no matter what the company wanted from him, he could do it; as long as he could continue to kiss you like this, he would do anything in the world.

#<3.writing #try to guess what order these were written in lol #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi imagines #venti x reader #venti imagines #heizou x reader #heizou imagines #kazuha x reader #kazuha imagines #aether x reader #aether imagines #xiao x reader #xiao imagines

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chrollohearttags · 9 months

Note

3, 5, 7, 8, 12, & 14

they all don’t have to be in the same story but that was the most i could narrow down 😭

oh no, these are perfect! Thank you bae 🤭 just gave me a good idea with this!

cw: hotel sex, dirty talk, choking

“And you told me you weren’t gonna come see me…what happened?”

“Well, turns out..what they said was true. You really are one of the best voices of our generation..your shows are actually pretty entertaining.”

words and glances exchanged between two secret lovers in the middle of the hotel room. Bodies only inches away from one another and lust rising from your auras like steam from a hot shower..this was the scene that reoccurred and played out so many times in the not so distant past. Messing around with and becoming the sneaky link to a world famous musician wasn’t something you’d ever foreseen yourself doing. You knew the industry types all too well and how they collected girls of your variety like the awards they accrued from their labors. Even still, the attraction between (y/n) and EJ The Don was one that could only be described as fiery, passionate and whirlwind. The two of you had quite a long conversation the other night and he could tell by the end that you were playing to hard to get; not wanting to give him too much as other girls had done prior. When asked if you’d come see him perform while he was on tour, you’d respond dryly with a: “we’ll see.” Of course, he knew you were merely giving him the cold shoulder just so he could have a bit of a motivation to make it impossible for you to leave later on. Faint traces of his cologne and weed smoke hit your nostrils as he leaned forward and brushed over your arms.

“I’m glad you think so…and I’m very..very glad you showed up. I mean, I saw you dancing around. Looking all good and shit.”

the compliment making your heart flutter; feeling him run a finger underneath your chin and licking his lips. Currently, he had you up against the wall, kneecap nudging open those thick thighs that were exposed by the revealing fishnet dress you were sporting. Tall heels supporting that curvy body and all he could think about was how you lucky he was to have you on his roster. Hell, he’d clear up all his prior engagements if he got to fuck on you all the time. Batting those pretty little lashes, you’d gaze up at him and move closer.

“Yeah? You think I look good?”

questioning with only a hair’s breadth in between you two. That pearly white smirk on his face, chain hanging from his around his neck and two silver bands on his tattooed fingers as he cupped them around your chin. He couldn’t get enough..he craved you so badly, he could practically taste it. But luckily, he wouldn’t have to wait too long to do so. You were all alone, in private and free to express all the filthy thoughts plaguing your minds. Cupping your beautiful face between his fingers, Eren would tease his lips against yours before initiating a series of steamy kisses. Smacking your tongues and twirling them together.

“Of course..but I think you’d look so much better with my hands around your neck..” “You might be on to something.” lightly asphyxiating your breathing as he fed you those sloppy pecks. Ones that had you melting in his grasp and made it even easier to get you out of your clothes. “EJ..” “I know, baby. I know you want me to fuck you..you’ve been so patient with me.” One by one, he’d strip you of those tiny little articles of clothing until both of you were rendered nude. Ravaging one another like wild animals until he hoisted you mid air, prompting you to put your arms around his neck. Holding you in those toned, tattooed arms. And once you did, he’d begin to bounce you up and down on that thick cock. Slamming up into you with full force..dripping wet only a few strokes in. Your nails clawing into his back and those balls slapping against your entrance. Creaming all down his cock and making a mess everywhere. Something you had been waiting on for a while.

“Ooh shit!…”

“God..you feel so fucking good. This pussy’s ‘s so good.” Grunting into your ear like a man deprived. That dick swelling inside of you and stretching that entrance open. You’d find yourself burying your face into the crook of his neck and moaning out for more. “No, don’t look away..keep your eyes on me. Let me see how much you love this dick.”

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cherlockbrolmes · 1 year

Text

Making this its own post because I feel VERY passionately about this. The original reblog’d response is right under this on my profile. This is a copy paste of my response.

ABOUT LEO’S GROWTH IN THE RISE MOVIE, and how a good portion of the fandom has interpreted his behavior…

TLDR: Leo isn't a sadboy defeatist who takes his self-sacrificial tendencies to unhealthy levels. His development in the movie was a net positive. HOPE and TRUST are the central and truest parts of Leo's character that permeates even the darkest of situations.

Ok this isn't meant to be an attack on the poster or anything, so initially I want to make this VERY clear before I get into it. I know this is mostly humorous, and l'm not trying to dull the mood either- I just have a lot of thoughts. People are allowed to interpret media the way they want; that's kinda how it works (mostly. We should be aware of the disgusting exceptions).

But dear lord, I have to talk about this because this characterization for Leo being so extremely self sacrificial and sad is RAMPANT and I have to give my own two cents.

I kinda heavily dislike this characterization and mostly disagree with it.

That's not to say there isn't truth in it; Leo has trends in many if not all iterations to have some self sacrificial tendencies. That sometimes pops up as a problem, too- but I really don't think Leo is taking it to a majorly unhealthy degree here for one big reason:

He trusts his family.

But let me break it down first. While I'm sure Leo shows a LOT of character growth by the end of the movie, one thing l'm sure he's not going to lose is major traits of his personality. First and foremost, he DOES value himself, even if some members of the fandom want to insist otherwise. Some portray or interpret his ego as a facade, when I really don't think that's it at all. Do I think it's overplayed in moments of insecurity? Yes, absolutely, but that doesn't mean it's purely a face.

Leo doesn't think his family is more or less than him.

He sees the value of them TOGETHER, and I think the movie helped him understand that even more.

Leo enjoys himself, and he enjoys them, and if he sees another option, he'll take it instead of going to a self sacrificial solution. Leo, while maybe not able to spell things well or understand what Donnie is talking about 99% of the time, is smart in his own way. He's a STRATEGIST- that's why Splinter promoted him to leader. Leo will absolutely be able to figure things out before he leaps to self sacrifice. His choice with Krang Prime came from a moment of desperation and not knowing what else to do. And even then, he held on to the thought of his family- the HOPE that they will ultimately be able to save him.

Hope is a big part of this rant. Just hang in there.

A big part of Leo's character is how much he values his family being together. That is made VERY clear in Portal Jacked, when he's openly distraught about having lost them. And I think he knows his family well enough that if one unceremoniously splits off, it creates deeper cracks. Not to mention he knows firsthand what losing one of them feels like. Why would he subject the others to that? I think that would make him actively AVOID self sacrifice if the option came up. It's only in the darkest of moments that Leo would accept it...and that's even pushing it, due to how much faith he holds in his family to have his back.

That's part of what makes a good leader of the Hamatos, too. Hell, that's what the ENTIRE FINALE OF THE SHOW ILLUSTRATED. That trusting your family to have your back will help them win in the end.

But there's also ONE BIG PART of the movie that I think people dismiss all too often. And I get it- the drama that proceeds it is fun and juicy and everything, but the quote highlights Leo's character growth better than the "it's not about me" bit.

“We still have a ninja’s greatest weapon…hope”

“We still have hope!”

“Our future isn’t written until we write it…as a team”.

“I’m not leaving him behind”.

“We still have hope!”

“A ninja’s greatest weapon…”

“Hey, I like that!”

Leo, to me, is an enormously POSITIVE character.

It's hard for me to believe that Mr. "A Ninja's Greatest Weapon Is Hope" would be...so sullen in his attitude and so prone to self sacrifice.

Self sacrifice is never off the table for him. But it is also not an option he sees as mostly beneficial.

He trusts his family.

He has hope.

I personally believe that..while he was defeated and distraught in the Prison Dimension, as any would be...he still had hope. He was SMILING. He trusted his family.

I don't think the "what took you so long?" was a disingenuous, deflecting quip. I think he meant it. He trusted his family to save him.

Leo's character development is definitely accepting it isn't about him. "I realize I don't have all the answers is the PINNACLE of this. He isn't one to launch himself in and think he can handle it on his own anymore.

He has learned to trust his family, and through that, he trusts himself on a level deeper and more true than he ever has before.

And he's such a goofy guy, c'mon guys.

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mrsaltieri-real · 4 months

Text

Good Boy, Meeks (Mickey Altieri X Randy Meeks)

Words: 2.8k

Warning/s: language, smut, slight dom/sub dynamic, handjobs, blowjob, teasing, cum eating, cum play, filming/sex tape, hair pulling, Randy’s a nervous wreck, Mickey’s a teasing ass, implied stalking, frenemies to fuck buddies.

A/N: SO this is my first fic that is two canon characters. No reader insert, no OC. Just Mickey and Randy. The Film Bro’s™️. This was ridiculously fun to write, I’m definitely going to do stuff like this more often. I love them so much. Thank you @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing! You’re such a massive help dude!

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Mickey had always found Randy sweet.

In a lot of ways, they were the same. Film geeks with an unfiltered passion for cinema and the art surrounding it, constantly looking for a deeper meaning, both there and in real life. Then again, they were more different than similar.

Randy was a small town boy still reeling from the series of murders that rocked him a year back. He never showed it, but he lived in a constant state of unease, glancing over his shoulder and never letting anybody but Sidney in. Even then, he couldn’t talk to her about this stuff. She was healing, getting better. He was happy for her, but when she began dating Derek, he realized that he truly was all alone.

Mickey, on the other hand, was from the city. Eager, outgoing, confident. He wasn’t scared about people finding him arrogant or full of himself, he lived his life with no regrets. He was being bankrolled through college by Billy Loomis’ mother to help her finish the job he and Stu Macher couldn’t. Mickey was violent, in more ways than the obvious. His ambition made him all the more magnetic, especially to Randy.

They had a fun frenemy vibe going for a while, though they both knew it was more affectionate than anything. Mickey liked Randy, he thought he was simply adorable. Randy liked Mickey, he enjoyed arguing with him even though most of the time he knew he was just saying opposing views on cinema to get a rise out of him, like when he’d sat in front of him and blatantly said that Superman 2 was better than Superman 1. Randy could see the amusement in his eyes as he argued back, but decided to roll with it.

Anything to stretch out the conversation.

Randy wasn’t gay. He knew he wasn’t gay, he’d been in love with Sidney since before he even knew what love was. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d glance over at Mickey in class or in the cafeteria, watch his head tip back as he laughed, the dimples in his cheeks. His eyes would drift to his strong, muscular arms, watch his huge hands run through his hair or drum against his thigh, and it was almost impossible to look away.

But no, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t bi, he was straight. Right?

“Randy!” Fingers snapped in front of Randy’s face, and he blinked, shaking his head before his blue eyes tentatively met light brown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine, why?” Randy cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat and looking down at his paper. He and Mickey had been paired for a project on cinematography in horror, and it bugged Randy that the moment their names were spoken out one after the other by their professor, he’d felt his heart flutter a little.

“Well, I was talking to you and you were just… Staring at me.” Mickey’s tone was light, almost playful. He didn’t look away from Randy, his grin spreading wider as he saw the rush of colour flood to the boy's cheeks. How cute is that?

“Fuck off, Mickey, no I wasn’t.” Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “Stop fucking around, what were you saying?”

“C’mon, Meeks! Tell me what you were thinking about.” Mickey leaned forward in his own seat, his hand reaching out and playfully pushing Randy’s shoulder. Randy swatted at his hand, only making Mickey chuckle and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay!” He shook his head, still smiling as he grabbed his camera from his desk, flipping the small flap open and holding it up. “Don’t wanna tell me? Tell the camera.”

“Mickey, I swear to God, fuck off.” Randy held up his hand, turning his head to the side and burying his face into his shoulder. “You’re such an ass, dude.”

“Aw, I know.” Mickey didn’t drop the camera. His eyes were fixed on Randy through the tiny screen, his head tilting just slightly to the side. His smile had changed into a somewhat affectionate half smile, watching as Randy peeked up at him. “What?”

“You like me, don’t you?”

The question took him by such surprise, Randy let out a laugh that was a little too loud, a roll of his eyes that was a little too dramatic and stood to his feet, pushing the chair back a little too hard. Mickey watched the ordeal with an amused expression and a cocked brow, the camera still focused on Randy, “I think you’re a dick.”

“And I think that you think I’m blind and stupid.” Mickey retorted, finally looking up from the small screen, his eyes settling and Randy’s awkward stance. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”

Randy looked away, as he says, “I don’t like you. Not like that.”

Mickey presses, “Like what?”

“Like- Oh, shut up.” Randy muttered, beginning to walk toward Mickey’s bathroom.

Before he could get past him, Mickey’s large hand that Randy had so often admired shot out, wrapping around his forearm easily and holding him next to him.

“Don’t make it weird, Meeks. We can fuck if that’s what you want.”

Mickey said it so matter-of-factly it took Randy a little by surprise, his eyes shooting to Mickey, who still gripped the camera in his other hand, the band around his wrist and his arm resting beside him.

“But you’re not…” Randy’s voice trailed off and Mickey let out another laugh.

There is that infuriatingly dazzling smile as he asked, “I’m not what? Gay?”

Randy stumbles over his words as he responds, “I mean… Yeah. I’ve seen you with girls and stuff.”

“Yeah, so? What, you're a film major and think people can’t branch out a little?”

Randy frowned, this isn’t as simple as making a movie in a different genre, at least not to Randy. His eyes darting from Mickey’s hand wrapped around his arm and to his face. He couldn’t deny, when Mickey touched him, he felt an uncomfortably strong wave of arousal flow through his body and stab him straight in the stomach.

Fuck, he hated that Mickey made him feel this way. Fucking Mickey Altieri of all people. It was no surprise really, though. Randy had seen first hand, he could pretty much fuck anybody he wanted. He was outrageously attractive, magnetic and just downright charming. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to him, and had been for a pathetic amount of time. And now, here he was, telling him he wanted him.

Randy didn’t move, caught in a hesitating limbo, so Mickey helped him, tugging on his arm and pulling him in front of him.

He had no idea what he was doing. He’d thought about this, this moment more times than he cared to admit whilst he was fisting his cock in the shower, thinking of Mickey. His hands, his arms, his smile, his cock, and more often than not, his lips. He was always filled with guilt after, wondering how Mickey would feel if he knew that Randy touched himself to thoughts of him on his knees with Mickey in his mouth.

This was fucking unbearable.

Mickey’s brown eyes were fixed on Randy’s torn expression, watching the vast array of emotions pass over his face. Suddenly, it wasn’t so amusing.

“Nod if you want me.” Mickey said, his voice unnaturally soft and tender.

Randy’s final thought was simple.

Fuck it.

He nodded his head, eyes, watching as Mickey released his arm and gently palmed over himself. Randy hadn’t noticed before that he was already half hard. Did he know? This entire time that Randy wanted him this much? Did he want it as long as he did, too?

Mickey didn’t speak, but he stood to his feet, placing the still rolling camera down on his desk, the lenses facing them, a light smile on his lips as he leaned forward, his hand moving from his own aching bulge in favour of Randy’s. The two of them were wearing sweatpants, and Mickey smiled in satisfaction at how fucking hard Randy was for him. He could feel his heat, feel the throbbing before he even made contact.

Mickey’s other hand cradled Randy’s flushed cheek, finding it sweet how panicked Randy looked, as if he was afraid this was all some big joke to his expense. But this wasn’t, Mickey wanted Randy, had done since the first day the little geek challenged him in film class.

Randy found that focusing on the beauty spot just beside Mickey’s eyes calmed him down slightly, humanizing the other boy a little more.

Mickey wasn’t going to kiss Randy first, however. He felt like that was something Randy had to do, and it didn’t take him anywhere near as long as he expected.

The minute Mickey’s head ghosted over him, Randy bit the bullet, closing the space and pressing his lips against Mickey’s with a passion that took Mickey by surprise. Randy let out a shaking moan into his mouth, pushing himself greedily against Mickey’s hand in desperate need for friction, to which the other boy eagerly obliged, his hand moving to frail his fingers down Randy’s happy trail and slipping smoothly into Randy’s sweats and boxers, eagerly kissing him back as he did. Mickey tasted like mint, his lips were unbearably soft and something about them seemed like home, the rough feeling of Mickey’s stubble scratched against Randy’s face, so satisfying and just how he dreamed it would.

The moment Randy felt Mickey’s well worked hand wrap around his cock, he was worried he was going to cum then and there. His hips thrust a little as he gasped into Mickey’s mouth, feeling him smile against him as he did. Randy’s hands were fast and eager, but he was stopped sharply by Mickey, who pulled back, shaking his head.

“Oh, God I- I’m sorry, fuck, I-“

Randy began rambling, his face flushing a deep red. Mickey simply rolled his eyes, bending down to pull Randy’s sweats and boxers down before pulling his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “Shut up, I thought it would be easier this way, no?”

This was the first time Randy had seen Mickey shirtless. He momentarily marvelled at the hairs on his chest, his toned stomach, and swallowed thickly.

Before Randy could reply, Mickey kissed him, deeper and with more vigour than last time. Randy’s leaking cock pressed between both of their stomachs. Mickey’s hands gripped Randy’s hips, pulling him even closer to him and forcing him to grind against him before he pressed him firmly up against the wall, his lips beginning to drift from Randy’s lips, to his jaw, to his throat.

“F-fuck.” Randy’s moan was unsteady, his hands unconsciously moving to knot in his thick dark hair, his hips beginning to grind against him by themselves. The friction felt incredible, but what felt even better was Mickey’s hand beginning to slowly pump Randy’s cock as he kissed his neck, the sensation making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Mickey used Randy’s pre-cum as lube as he allowed the boy to messily thrust against his hand, his simpering whimpers and moans fucking music to his ears.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you like this, Meeks.” Mickey breathed into Randy’s ear, twisting his hand expertly and relishing in the gentle whines flooding out from Randy’s lips. “A leaking fucking mess just for me.”

“Just for you.” Randy echoed Mickey’s words, his hands gripping his hair even tighter as his pace began to steadily increase.

The feeling of his rough hand gliding up and down his shaft, his messy cock aching and throbbing, it was nothing like he’d had before. His first and only time with Karen Kolcheck back in Woodsboro seemed pretty much laughable compared to how Mickey was making him feel right now with just his hand. Randy knew he was close, his balls were aching, and he could feel himself ready to unload all over Mickey’s stomach, but he didn’t want to. He knew that once he did, it would be over.

Fuck, he didn’t want this to be over.

“You gonna cum for me, Randy?” Mickey asked. Randy let out a soft whine, flinching in effort to avoid doing just that.

“N-no.” He groaned out, the grip on Mickey’s hair tightening.

Mickey let out a breathy laugh, his hand slowing to a gentle pump. “Why not?” He asked.

Randy didn’t answer, his head falling forward, so his forehead pressed against Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey wasn’t having that. He pulled his hand away from Randy’s sloppy cock, knocking his arms out of the way so he could pull Randy’s head back before gripping his chin between his long fingers.

“Why not?” He asked again, his tone a little harder.

“Because I don’t want it to be done.” Randy blurted out. He felt Mickey cock twitch against his from the confines of his sweats and briefs and felt an overwhelming desire to touch him too. Mickey looked at the hungry expression on Randy’s face and smiled affectionately, releasing Randy’s jaw and sliding his hand into his hair.

“Okay, on your knees then.”

Before the words were completely out of Mickey’s mouth, Randy was on his knees, pulling down Mickey’s remaining clothes.

Randy had only seen his own dick and dicks in porn. No pornstar cock would ever compare to Mickey’s. The only word that came to mind was mouthwatering.

After Mickey spent a little time talking Randy through it, Randy took him greedily into his mouth, moaning at how delicious he tasted, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Fuckkkkk.” Mickey groaned, his head tipping back and one hand still resting on the top of his head. He glanced at the camera, picking it up and focusing it down on the adorable sight before him; Randy greedily sucking his cock as if his life fucking depended on it. Randy made a sound of disapproval at the sight of the camera, but Mickey shook his head. “Thought you might want to watch this back when you fuck yourself thinking about me.”

A brief thought of how the fuck does he know I do that? Crossed his mind for the briefest of moments before he forgot all about it, focusing on the feeling of Mickey’s thick, heavy cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head obediently, feeling Mickey begin to thrust harder, pushing his way down Randy’s throat.

“Yeah, good boy. Look up into the camera with my cock in your mouth, Meeks.” Mickey instructed, voice heavy and dripping with arousal. Randy did just that, feeling Mickey begin to twitch in his mouth as soon as he did. “Mm. You wanna get off?” He asked, smiling at Randy’s muffled yes. “Go on.”

Randy quickly took his own sensitive cock into his hand, realizing quickly his pre-cum had dropped onto Mickey’s hardwood floor. Mickey angled the camera, zooming in on the sight and watching it intently, his hips snapping against Randy’s face urgently.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Mickey grunted, halting his movement. Randy’s nose pressed against Mickey’s skin for a moment, beginning to splutter slightly as Mickey began to release hot ribbons of white down his throat, before pulling back to fill up Randy’s mouth.

The delicious taste, along with Mickey’s gorgeous expression, his head back and his chest heaving as he came, sent Randy into a convulsing mess, cumming all over his own hand, stomach and the ground beneath him. Mickey pulled out of his mouth quickly, relishing in the sound of Randy’s gasping moans as he finished.

It was silent between them for a moment, Randy trembling on his knees, not looking Mickey in the eyes. Mickey still had the camera rolling, looking fondly into the small window of it, before he glanced down at Randy pointedly.

“You made a mess, Meeks.”

Randy let out a sigh, relieved at the broken silence, before he asked, “What?”

Mickey nodded down beneath him at the cum staining the floor. Randy blushed, moving to shakily to stand up, only to be stopped by Mickey’s large, grounding hand.

“Clean it up.”

“I- I was going to. Was gonna get some paper towels and-“

“No, Randy.” Mickey cut him off, the cheeky smile back on his face as he knelt down in front of him. Mickey’s finger dipped into the impressive pool of white, before he raised it to his own mouth and licked it. Randy watched intently, his once softened cock twitching at the sight. Fuck.

“On your hands and knees-“ Mickey stopped, moving the camera and angling it down at the mess. “And clean. It. Up.”

Randy stared at Mickey for a moment, before nodding his head, and doing exactly what he was told.

He got on his hands and knees, dipping his head down, and began to lap up his own cum from the hardwood floor. Mickey watched through the camera, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sight.

“Good boy, Meeks.”

#mickey and randy my darlings #no one can tell me they didn’t canonically fuck at least once #I love them #this was ridiculously fun #hope you all enjoy!#scream #mickey altieri #randy meeks #mickey altieri and randy meeks #m x m #mickey altieri smut #randy meeks smut #mickey and randy smut #scream smut

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