#beyond that I hope the ideas make sense too

[sunshineandspencer]

Has to be a joke

A/N: I will be writing more based on these two (I'm currently writing a fic but wanted to put the ideas out) and wanted to show their first meeting :) I hope you enjoy <33 also this is set for postprison!spencer, except I'm too much of a wuss to go past season 10, so expect inaccuracies into how that all goes down.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Spencer doesn't like the name of his new partner.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™ (I have no idea I've never done this before sorry)

In all the mind-fucking ways that the BAU have slowly tried to help her adjust - by that, her very first case was a misogynistic cannibal that seemed to like her a touch too much - this had to be the worst.

Granted, she is a pushover, and so she agreed to do this, so honestly she brought this upon herself.

Spencer Reid, the man she had been acting as a ‘replacement’ for while he was in prison, was finally coming back. Some might assume, ‘oh- this means you’re going back to cyber crimes right’. A fair enough assumption, and one she had made herself.

However, Emily, her Unit Chief, liked her work so much that she was asked to stay permanently. Of course, blaming the pushover-ness again, she agreed.

Now, not only did she find herself potentially becoming Spencer’s partner but she was tasked with cleaning his desk before he got back.

For the most part, they kept it clean in his absence, but an uptick in cases and zero free time meant that it became neglected. Everyone quickly agreed that the germophobic man would not like to come back from prison to a dusty desk. In comes his new partner, agreeing with a self-depreciative laugh as she stayed behind to dust off the desk and array of personal items.

Not that it’s wholly surprising that she was the one left behind. She is the newest member, had never met Spencer, and a massive sucker.

Just as they walked out JJ mentioned that he had an eidetic memory, so everything had to be put back perfectly or he’d notice. The last thing she wanted was her new partner, the sought after and beloved Doctor Reid, to hate her.

Quietly grumbling to herself as she dusted and set back the third Doctor Who figurine, very nearly done.

But she heard voices from beyond the bullpen and swore. Doing a final sweep with the microfiber cloth and then chucking it behind her onto her desk. Reaching out to spin a pen back into place and stepping back to stand beside her own desk, wondering if she looked as insane as she currently felt.

Thankfully it seemed like they’d had a good drive in, after all, he’s only coming in to get reinstated properly and then he has to take thirty days off. Emily’s rules to make sure that he gets to stay for good.

Nervously, she pulled on a bright smile, lacing her hands together painfully to stop herself from reaching for a handshake. Germaphobe, she reminded herself, don’t offer your fucking hand.

Spencer, as he walked over, must’ve either sensed the pure waves of anxiety crashing off of her, or just profiled his way to the conclusion that she was losing her mind, because he put on a soft and welcoming smile.

Right in character for the man Garcia had painted him out to be.

Once she realised he was waiting, so damn patiently for her to start talking, she blinked softly and seemed to restart with a friendly smile.

“Hi! I uhm.. I was your replacement while you were.. Gone. But they-- Emily, liked me and asked me to stay on as your new partner. I hope that’s alright, I’m still kind of new here.”

Oh thank God he seems like an absolute sweetheart right now, because she honestly couldn’t have been able to cope otherwise. She’s not good with confrontation or high emotions.

“That’s completely fine, as long as you don’t mind an ex-convict.”

This man, immediately, had a giggle bubbling up in her throat. A giggle. She’s a fucking grown woman.

So she stamps it down, to maintain her own image and save face in front of this downright gorgeous man.

“Of course not! I’ve read your work thousands of times, and everyone here has told me so much about you. A little jail time isn’t going to scare me off.”

Soft banter, she can do that, that’s something normal and socially inclined people do. Even with very attractive people that kind of look at them as if they clearly know how they turn people’s brains to mush. Like he’s doing right now.

Penelope and JJ had shown her so many photos of Spencer so that she’d know exactly who she’d be covering for - and then working with. And honestly, she’d been absolutely destroyed by him in sweater vests and looking like he doesn’t know how to use his own limbs. They’d described him as a ‘human bambi’, but clearly they still had rose tinted glasses on.

Because somewhere in the last decade they seemed to have missed the way their little sweater-vest-wearing boy completely grew into a man, and decided to use his Godhood to pick on his new partner.

When she finally stopped thinking about all the ways she was going to murder Garcia for not preparing her for this, she caught movement on his face. His eyebrow raising and the corner of his lips seemingly unable to decide whether or not he wants to smile.

“Wh- What? Sorry, I didn’t.. I didn’t catch that.”

He smiled, clearly fully aware of himself and how he’s destroying her ability to think, and she nervously returned it, wondering how hard she’d have to jump for the floor to crack open and let her drop.

“Your name, angel.”

Angel?! Oh, she’s fucked.

“N-Name? My name? Right, sorry. I’m Maeve Donnelly, but no one really-”

He visibly jolts, small but she’s hyper-aware of his every move right now, and that one certainly didn’t look positive. His eyes finally moved from her face to look up at Emily’s office, and she had to be careful to remind herself to breathe.

When he looks back, all signs of willing friendliness have gone, and suddenly she’s being scowled at, causing a lump to rise in her throat.

Confrontation is a bitch, especially when she doesn’t know what she’s done.

“Your name is Maeve Donnelly? Is this a joke?”

“I- no?” She was the one to flinch this time, by the sound of his voice and just how harshly it met her ribs clack against her lungs. “It’s- It’s my name, what’s wrong with my name?”

Tossing his bag onto his desk, he shoved past her to sit down, and she’s trying to piece together what had happened to make him react like this, completely unprompted. All she did was say her name, he’s the one that asked her to.

Still scowling at her as he starts packing away case files to work on at home, clearly not wanting to be around her anymore.

“What isn’t wrong with your name?! Honestly, if this is your idea of a joke, I don’t think we’ll be together for very long.”

Storming past her again, he starts the walk up to the chief’s office, and she’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that she might not actually have a job after today. Especially when he turned back one last time.

“And I know you touched my fucking desk, my stuff has been moved. Don’t fucking do that again.”

Just like that, as he stormed into Emily’s office and she stayed feeling small and entirely unwelcome by her new partner, she reminisced on the brief moment that she found him attractive and how she’ll never get to feel like that again. Considering he’s a massive arse who just judged her entirely by her name and refused to elaborate.

Damn, at the very least, she won’t have to deal with him for long if he gets his wish of getting her kicked off the BAU, maybe then she can finally go back to cyber crimes.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction

[itzrafee]

SPOILERS for The Sandman comic book series. All of it. Especially the ending. Okay spoiler alert over.

And a content warning about suicide.

I'm not into the fandom of Sandman so I don't know if Gaiman addressed this or if this is a widely held thought but from the incredibly affecting day I finished it so long ago, I've always held the belief that the series is essentially Morpheus's suicide note. Essentially, it being a series of him wrapping up his affairs as he orchestrated his death. I remember reading the quote from Gaiman, "“The Lord of Dreams learns that one must change or die, and makes his decision." and then realizing his actions in a purposeful way, lead to his death. He set it all up. I know he says he didn't but how else can you see his actions? He even finds his own successor. He comes back out into a dreamless world that could use him more than ever and he's tired. He's playing catch-up and barely keeping up. And his devotion to his duty doesn't let him rest. He sees the need and knows he can't fill it. He can't meet the change. He tells his sister as much. And his constant orbit around his sister shows him everything he can't be. And the opportunity that lies there.

But that's not what The Sandman is about, it's just what it is. What I find the most interesting is when the Dreams of Morpheus come together with Stories that are a result of those Dreams. And how Death wraps those two up in her arms. They're all intrinsically tied to each other. The Inn at the end of the world serving as both the prologue and epilogue to Morpheus's death really shows that they are. We are a lot of things, people I mean. Or maybe just even living things. But in one way we are the same. We are stories. We have a beginning. We have a middle. And unfortunately we have an end.

I don't know if it was just me but I remember feeling a profound emptiness and hollowness at the end of The Sandman. A grief at the story ending. And I feel as if that is what Gaiman intended. Through the inn we learn of the ways Morpheus had affected people. When we leave this world we leave a lot of grief behind. Grief in the form of stories and dreams. I remember once seeing an ask of Gaiman where it was mentioned he was the one who said "Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem". And I think The Sandman reinforces that philosophy through the grief it shows. In a way, the tales those at the World's End Inn share are a form of grief but we also see the way dreams, death, stories and grief intersect in many of the important side characters. Hod Gadling, an incarnation of dreams as much as death, an outlier and an immortal. Someone who more than almost anyone would mourn Morpheus. We see it in the Dead Boy Detectives, a ghoulish emptiness where a story should end. And in Orpheus, forced to live on in grief. They are all twisted apparitions of dreams, of death, of stories, and of grief.

We are stories. And when we end, people grieve. They grieve through retelling and remembering. One of my favourite iterations of this idea is the story of Shakespeare and Hamlet. Shakespeare pays for the price of his dreams through his son and as we in the real world know, he grieves through telling a story of Hamnet. Hamnet gets turned into a tale that lives on long after he passes. These are all imperfect forms of life and death but they're all stories that do end. They have to. Maybe through telling and dreaming up these stories we keep them alive just a bit longer. Maybe until the heat death of it all, Hob Gadling will live on, being the last person Death take in, but she will take him. Death may be a mug's game but it's a game we all have to play. And grief is the price those that love us pay for it. It's the high cost of living.

#the sandman #the sandman spoilers #I hope i'm not misremembering too much and this actually makes sense #it's been so long since I read it #something I wrote recently about cowboy bebop brought me back to this train of thought #beyond that I hope the ideas make sense too #cw: sui mention

[designernishiki]

hot take (aka headcanon) but I kinda think that nishiki and kiryu’s relationship pre-split wasn’t on both sides platonic/familial or fully romantic; I feel like nishiki had a thing for him (not sure if he fully realized it though) and that he had developed feelings for kiryu over the course of a good long time that were deeply confusing on their own, but even more so considering they would’ve been hard to sort out with what could just be attributed to close friendship or a familial-type bond.

and on the other side of this, kiryu was utterly oblivious and never thought to question what they had as being anything other than a close friendship or familial-type relationship or whatever it was being called out loud (we know kiryu, he’s blunt as hell and takes things at face value– not the best at reading between the lines) hence why the split between them, though both were clearly hurt a ton by it, hit nishiki harder and more acutely– because on top of losing the most important person in his life, which is bad enough, it would’ve crushed any tiny shred of hope he may have had to live out his long-time, perhaps even since-childhood fantasy of being by kiryu’s side forever as his one true confidant, in a more intimate way than as a friend.

#rambling #sad boy hours #this also ties into why I hc nishiki as being gay rather than bi for the most part (though both are absolutely valid and understandable) #won’t get into that here too much but yeah there’s just… a lot of tragic gay angst that can be associated with him and the way he handles m #(or doesn’t handle) their little… breakup and whatnot #and as for kiryu’s side of things. honestly if things went a different way than they did I don’t think something beyond friendship would be #out of the question. it’s just. I don’t think kiryu would’ve ever considered the concept because he’s so clueless #when it comes to relationships and romance and so on and furthermore because of the way he was brought up- which of course wouldn’t really #highlight the idea that falling for a guy (or vice versa) is even a possibility let alone that it’d be applicable to him and someone so #close to him and whatnot. learning about nishiki’s past feelings for him in a hypothetical post-kiwami situation I think would make #him short circuit. and to literally anyone else who knew about nishiki’s actions after the split and all it’d all click and make perfect #sense hearing that. but to kiryu it’d take some fuckin Time to process #I think the past would be in the past by whatever hypothetical future point this is but still its a lot to apply to some of the most #important and fundamental parts of/events of his life. hh. yeah. tack on some guilt if you wanna say kiryu would be with majima at that #point (however you define ‘with’– important part is It’s Not Straight) so the potential there- whatever it was- wasn’t totally nothing like #it would be if he was simply straight and thus it would’ve never been a possible relationship outcome #but. yeah. anyway. sorry I’m. I need to stop I’m going insane I think l #I hope I don’t sound too insane or controversial for this take gahdhshdh have mercy on me #it’s. it’s all just ideas. thoughts. in a game. in minecraft. etc #nishiki #kiryu #yakuza #long post

[relicsongmel]

Just spent over an hour searching for the static Ho-oh in the overworld and suddenly Ryuji taking literal years to reunite with his family makes sense to me now

#mel's musings #forest for the tree #the joke is that during his deadbeat era he was off doing the exact same thing. hunting for legendary pokemon to show his daughter #at least my ho-oh was stuck in one spot. HE on the other hand had to find that bastard roaming. makes sense it took so long #denise's dad is an enigma to me. he's not a bad dude at his core but he has VERY misguided ways of showing he cares #case in point: trying to make dena happy by helping her meet the pokemon she's been fascinated with since childhood #except this idea was born from him just straight up abandoning her and her mom. which is THE root of almost all her Issues™ #he also lacks emotional maturity and is utterly incapable of seeing things beyond his own perspective sometimes #when his arguments with jen reach a breaking point he takes it as a sign she doesn't love him anymore #rather than recognizing they're both impatient by nature and not the best communicators and probably got married too young #and instead of analyzing his own feelings or talking them out with her (or you know. going to therapy) he just. leaves #his decision IS motivated by love in a way. because he thinks she'd be happier without him. but it's mostly just insecurity and fear #and he does feel bad that little dena got caught in the crossfire. so he tries to make it up to her in his own way #dena's conflicting feelings about his re-entry into her life is a WHOLE other can of worms to be honest #because she doesn't even realize how angry she is with him until she sees him again. she doesn't forgive him right away #but she's at least willing to give him the chance to prove himself again. bc that 10 year old girl who wanted her dad back never died ;_; #why is it that every time i try to be funny on tumblr dot com i end up writing emotional ass meta instead. how does this always happen #this was supposed to be a joke about dena's ho-oh hunt going about as well as her dad's. like father like daughter or some shit yk #ANYWAY that ho-oh sucks and i hope he lands on a stealth rock. good riddance #mel plays scarvi

[monstersflashlight]

Imagining a night creature with a reader who's afraid of the dark

Hi! I like that. This made me think of the monster under the bed I answered a few days ago (find it here). Also, when you sent this I already had a semi-planned story with a girl in a dark street (find it here). But I also got some inspo for this. The idea of the reader being afraid of the dark and the monsters lurking there… What she doesn’t know is that the monsters there don’t want to hurt her, just tease her little human body. This is sweeter than I normally write, but I hope you like it!

Sleeping in the dark

Night monster x fem!reader || Stalking, overstimulation, forced orgasms

You were always afraid of the dark. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you didn’t feel anxiety creeping in the back of your neck every time a street was too dark, your curtains a bit too closed… Some people laughed about it, saying you weren’t a kid anymore, a grown woman shouldn’t be scared of the dark. But you couldn’t fight your fears, it was beyond your control.

That’s why you got a little lamp, always turned on so you could sleep better. Just knowing you weren’t in complete darkness, even in your sleep, made you feel a bit better. But you weren’t a lucky person, so when you woke in the middle of the night and the lamp was turned off, your anxiety picked with full force. Tears ran down your face instantly, your breath coming in fast exhales, almost hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” A voice came from inside your closet, making you scream as a dark figure opened the door and stepped out. “Shhh, stop! I’m not here to hurt you.” He tried, but you opened your mouth to scream again. He crossed the room in two fast steps and covered your mouth with a hand as big as your whole face. “I’m trying to help, but you need to stop screaming. Are you going to scream if I let go?” You shook your head, tears rolling down your face.

“Aw, little human, don’t cry.” He pleaded, his voice soft as you felt his weight sitting down on the bed. You moved away, scared.

“The- the dark. It’s so dark.” You hiccuped between sobs. “Can you turn on the lights?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“The dark is okay. I like the dark. You aren’t ready to see me, yet.” He told you. You didn’t know if you wanted to see him either. You were scared enough, but his presence was weirdly calming.

“Who are you?” You asked then, equal parts scared and curious. He didn’t answer, silence making you wanna tear up again. “Am I dreaming?” You asked, more to yourself than to him.

“No, you are not.” He answered, his voice closer than you expected, like he was right next to you.

You jumped back, almost falling down. “Are you a monster?”

He sighed, like the weight of the world was over him. “Some call me that, yeah.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” You didn’t know why you asked, he could hurt you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do shit about it. But you felt calm, like his presence was okay. Some primal part inside of you trusted him, and as naive as it was, you did. You trusted the shadows in front of you, the dark figure that you couldn't even see.

“No, little human. I would never hurt you. But I can help you.” His voice was so soft that you relaxed completely, your body giving away all the tension, leaving you feeling dizzy.

That picked your interest. “Help me how?”

“I can distract you from the fear.” The innuendo on his voice was more than clear.

But you asked anyway: “Ho- how?” Your voice broke down as you tried to be brave, tried to make sense of the mixed feelings inside of you.

“Can I touch you, little human?” You nodded. You couldn’t see his face, but you guessed he could see yours if he told you not to cry. A hand touched your knee, traveling up and up. The flimsy dress you were wearing was put aside as his hand touched the hem of your panties. “Is this okay?” You nodded, speechless.

You couldn’t comprehend why you were so pliant to his touch, but you just knew. You knew he was telling the truth, he didn’t want to hurt you. He pulled your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air. A shiver ran down your spine as his pointy fingers touched your clit.

“I saw you touch this tiny pearl so many times… You looked so happy when you did.” He told you, rubbing your clit in the exact same way you did. “I’ve been watching you for so long. I studied your every move.” He pushed a finger inside of you, curving it to hit the perfect place. “It pained me to see you touch yourself and not being able to help. To be the one giving you pleasure. But now… Now I can, little human.” The idea of him watching you jerk off making your pussy tingle, convulsing against the finger inside of you. “You like that? You like knowing I was watching? You are a little pervert.” He laughed softly. You blushed.

His fingers were so much longer than yours, almost as long as your biggest dildo, but not so thick. He finger fucked you for a bit, humming and cooing at your reactions. Like you were a cute puppy doing a new trick, amazed when you cried out and repeating the move over and over as you came.

When you calmed down, he asked: “Can I fuck you, little human?” His fingers were still inside of you, rubbing softly, not trying to fuck you, just resting inside.

“Yes.” You choked out as he took his fingers out and felt his weight setting over you. He positioned himself and started pushing in slowly. “You… It feels weird.” You whispered, he chuckled. “My dick is not like the human ones. I have… ridges.” He pushed further, the aforementioned ridges rubbing against your walls and making you moan. “Do they please you?” You tried to answer, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a broken moan. He took that as a yes and started fucking you, slow but deep.

It wasn’t enough. “Faster. Harder.” You pleaded. He complied, setting a fast pace that made your boobs bounce up and down, almost hitting your chin. His hands on your hips were going to bruise, but you didn’t care. He had the perfect dick, even better than the tentacle dildo you always used.

Before you knew it, you were falling apart around him, his dick twitching as he came, too. But he didn’t stop, his dick still hard inside of you. He waited for a few seconds and started fucking you again. You didn’t know how he could keep fucking, how his dick was still hard, but you wanted to thank whoever created him for giving him that stamina. He fucked you over and over, for what felt like hours.

After what felt like a hundred orgasms, maybe they were, your oversensitive clit felt raw. Your pussy felt used and abused, but the pleasure was still there, almost painful. He kept asking you to come again, to let him feel your pussy contracting around him. To let him fill you again. And again. And again.

“I can’t anymore. Please…” You begged. You came so many times you lost count.

“Just one more, little human. One more and I’ll stop.” He told you, his pace not flattering for even a second.

You felt tears running down your face. “I can’t.” You choked out, your body spent. But he kept going. He rubbed your clit furiously, using his come as lube. Your last orgasm was pushed out of you, he forced you to come around his dick, almost to the point of pain. You cried as you came, so sensitive and tired… He wiped the tears away as he buried himself deep and came again, adding to your overflowing pussy.

He pulled out slowly and disappeared. Appearing seconds later with a warm cloth to clean some of the mess between your thighs.

“Would you stay?” You whispered, grabbing around his wrist still cleaning you up.

“Sure thing, little human.” He whispered back, his body curling around yours two seconds later.

For the first time in your life, you slept in the dark, a monster guarding you.

Part 2 can be found here.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #monster kink #monster in the closet #monster smut #request

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ?

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.8k

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.

He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.

As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.

"Fuck off, Lee Chan."

With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.

"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.

You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.

Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.

Yet he wanted you. He was after you.

The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.

Yeah, you did need that second drink.

"Where's your guy?"

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.

"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.

"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.

"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.

"And Channie?"

"What about him?"

"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.

Men, nosy as usual.

You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."

"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.

"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."

"But?"

You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"

"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."

"It's- I like the attention."

"And him?", he pressed.

"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.

Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."

"What is?"

"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."

"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.

"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"

"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.

"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."

"My guy's not here."

"I meant Channie, now go!"

You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.

It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.

Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.

You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.

You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.

"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."

Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.

"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.

The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"

The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.

But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.

It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.

And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.

The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.

"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."

"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.

It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.

"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"

Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.

"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.

"Chan-"

He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"

"It's not like that! I just-"

"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.

"Chan! I-"

"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.

"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.

Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.

"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."

"I do, and-"

"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.

"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.

"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.

You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.

"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.

You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.

"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.

He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.

"What plan?"

"I'm wearing you down. You want me."

Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.

You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?

Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.

"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"

Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.

You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.

"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.

While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.

"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.

"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"

He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.

Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.

It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.

Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.

Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.

As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.

~

The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.

You needed to get Chan out of your system.

You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.

Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.

Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.

Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.

Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.

Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.

You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.

"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.

Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.

"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."

"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.

"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"

"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.

Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.

"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."

"Was it good?"

"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."

"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.

"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.

"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.

"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.

"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"

"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"

"Soonyoung!"

"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.

This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.

Chan had had sex dreams about you too?

I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.

Fuck.

Chan wanted to fuck you.

The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.

"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.

"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."

Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.

God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.

With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.

~

Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.

Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.

Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.

But imagination wasn't enough.

You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.

That's when you thought of the perfect thing.

Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.

No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.

"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"

This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.

"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.

Oh, Channie ...

He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.

You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.

"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."

It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.

"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.

The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.

You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.

Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.

And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.

"We broke up."

Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.

This time Seokmin had decided to join.

"You what?"

"Because of Chan?"

"Really?!"

All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.

You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.

"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."

It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.

It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.

"Wow," aired Soonyoung.

"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.

"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.

"Does Channie know?"

"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.

"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"

Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"

"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.

"Wait! No, I-"

"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"

"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."

Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.

"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.

"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.

"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."

"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"

"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.

"I think it'd be hot."

"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.

Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"

Did you? Did you actually like Chan?

Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.

His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.

Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.

"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."

"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"

"No, it's just ..."

"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."

It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.

"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"

"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."

"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.

"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.

"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."

You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.

Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.

It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.

Fuck, you missed him.

Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.

You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.

It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.

Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.

Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.

He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.

When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.

Yeah, you liked him.

You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.

You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.

But then he started speaking.

"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"

It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.

Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.

After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.

"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"

"had", you clarified, shy.

"what?"

"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."

"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"

His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.

"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."

Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.

"God, I'm so so sorry-"

"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."

"Y-you ...?"

"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."

He nodded, giving you the green light.

"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."

Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.

"What made you realize it?"

Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.

But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.

His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.

"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"

"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."

"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"

With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."

"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"

"Chan!"

"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.

"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."

Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.

"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"

"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."

A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.

"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.

Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.

His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.

Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.

But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.

"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."

Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."

He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.

Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.

Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.

He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."

"Channie ..."

"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.

Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.

Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.

"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.

"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."

And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.

Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.

You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.

Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.

"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.

"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.

"Fuck. I get to choose?"

You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.

Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.

"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."

That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.

"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."

"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."

His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.

"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.

Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.

The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.

Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.

"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.

There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.

Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.

Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.

"I love you."

Then the world stopped.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"

It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.

"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.

"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."

He made you laugh, as per usual.

You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.

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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.

wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.

Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.

The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.

It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.

After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.

Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.

It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.

The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.

It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.

Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.

It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.

Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.

Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.

...

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#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt oneshot #seventeen one shot #svt imagines #chan smut #chan imagine #lee chan x reader #lee chan fanfic #dino smut #dino fanfic #dino x reader #dino imagines #dino scenarios

[moonstruckme]

I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)

Thank you gorgeous, love you <3

cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 

And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 

Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 

“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 

You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 

“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 

You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.

You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 

Your breath stills in your lungs. 

You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 

“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 

You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak. 

“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 

“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 

Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”

It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 

“Everything alright?” he asks. 

You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 

To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 

“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 

You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 

“I’m fine,” you say again. 

“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 

You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 

“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.” 

“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 

“Please,” you squeak out. 

He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.

“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.” 

You shake your head. “You don’t.” 

A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 

“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 

He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 

Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 

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[pathetic-sapphic]

arcane characters and their toxic traits in a relationship?

Arcane characters and their toxic traits

a/n: it is almost 5 am so i haven't proofread it yet ;; hope you'll enjoy it regardless

VI

Tries to take on all the burden and suffering on her shoulders. She never wants you to get hurt or to bother you so she'd rather suffer in silence. This greatly affects your communication as she may get distant whenever she's dealing with some problems, which in turn may make you think that you did something wrong and that she's ignoring you. This simply comes from a traumatic past where Vi always had to take accountability and sacrifice herself for others. She will work on it once she sees the way it affects your relationship though. She just doesn't want to be a burden.

JINX

Very insecure when it comes to your love and loyalty towards her. Jinx is so used to thinking that everyone will eventually abandon her and you're the one person she really cannot lose. Because of this, she will often come off as overprotective and possessive. You will need to make your boundaries clear and reassure her often. Because she's so scared of losing you, sometimes she will go to drastic ends in order to make sure you're still happy with her and don't want to break up. Can also be very impulsive and has trouble sticking to the plans you two made.

CAITLYN

Can come off as insensitive when it comes to finances. Of course, she understands that many people aren't quite as well-off and Caitlyn genuinely cares for everyone but sometimes she doesn't quite understand how affluent she is. She might overwhelm you with expensive gifts, luxurious trips or over the top galas. She won't understand if you're ever hesitant when buying something or why you always make sure to see what's on sale at the market. It will take some time getting used to and you'll have to explain to Caitlyn the differences between your upbringings. Caitlyn isn't a judgemental partner, she just likes to spoil you, though she will tone it down if she notices you getting uncomfortable.

EKKO

Very stubborn when it comes to asking for or receiving help. He will push you away and hide his wounds or problems from you. Ekko is just so used to handling things on his own that he hates the idea of letting you bear his burden. He needs a long talk with you where you'll show him your support and help him realize the importance of confiding in one another. Ekko doesn't realize that it isn't a one-sided thing, meaning that if he helps you out when you need it, you'd do the same for him. Sure, he has the Firelights, many of them who are his friends but he rarely felt comfortable enough to confide in anyone. It's easy to forget that he is just a boy, trying to shoulder the weight of the world, and that he doesn't have to do it all alone.

SEVIKA

Surprisingly inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. Sevika rarely gets attached to someone, beyond the sexual sense. For her, lovers are people she sleeps with to release the tension and frustration that builds up during her shift. She never truly had a partner, someone to whom she can show her soft side, someone who will cherish her beyond her body and money. Because of this, she often struggles with showing love towards her partner in a non-sexual way or a way that doesn't include physical touch. Words. That is the biggest problem for Sevika; expressing her appreciation and adoration through kind declarations is something that will take a while for her to learn.

SILCO

Silco is often too focused on his cause towards Zaun and forgets his other priorities besides that one. This causes him to overwork and come off as cold towards anyone he deems a threat to his goal. Because of this, he may ignore his partner whenever he's stressed out and deep into work. He's also rarely home, and since he isn't a fan of PDA, it can be hard to deal with the feeling of missing him so much. He tries to make it up to you with gifts but you'll need to explain to him that such luxurious things cannot replace his touch and company.

VANDER

Similar to Vi (where do you think she got that trait from?), Vander is so used to shouldering everything on his own. He wants to assure for you to live a comfortable and fulfilled life, even at the cost of his own happiness. He works tirelessly to keep the Last Drop and the Lanes afloat and seldom shares the workload with you. You can see how the stress wears him down but he will deny it until he completely bursts under pressure. Vander doesn't understand how much it hurts to see him like this, but some kind words and gentle touches can help when coaxing him into leaning on you too.

VIKTOR

Workaholic who never takes care of himself. So burdened down with the little time that he has left, Viktor doesn't plan to waste any of it by doing trivial stuff such as eating or resting. As loving as he is, Viktor can be an insanely stubborn partner. You'll probably have to hoist him over your shoulder and lock the door to his office in order to take him away from work for a couple of hours. He doesn't realize just how detrimental the negligence when it comes to taking care of himself is to his health. You need to explain to him that he won't get anywhere by working himself to the grave and you'll probably have to beg him to let you take care of him.

JAYCE

As smart as he is when it comes to his field of work, Jayce can be quite dense and heedless of other people's feelings. If you're the type of person who doesn't know how to talk about their problems or struggles with communication, there will be some issues in your relationship with Jayce. He's the type of person who asks you what's wrong and, once you give him a half-assed 'Nothing, I'm fine.', he goes all 'okay :D', pats your back and wanders off. You need to be direct and blunt with him because hints and exaggerated sighs simply won't do the trick.

MEL

Mel is an incredibly intelligent woman who knows how to get what she wants. This means that she can be quite manipulative at times, I mean you have to be if you want to succeed in politics. She'd never act that way with you on purpose, of course not, but it may happen unintentionally. She is also another workaholic who may appear too cold with her feelings but this is simply because she's hesitant to bring her walls and defenses down. It'll take a lot of time and patience to see her vulnerable side.

GRAYSON

Grayson is sort of a combination between Viktor and Vander; works too much and is too selfless for her own good. Grayson takes her job very seriously, safety of the citizens is of the utmost importance to her. This leads to her neglecting her own well-being and health. Lots of caffeine and many long nights in the office are spent by Piltover's Sheriff and, the older she gets, the more it wears down on her. It's hard to ignore the bags under her eyes or the tiredness in her voice as she drags herself into your shared home late at night.

AMBESSA

Quite cold and guarded, someone who doesn't appreciate or understand feelings like mercy or kindness. She believes that every single person is inherently selfish and wants something from her. This is why she doubts your good nature so much in the beginning. It has been a long time since Ambessa let herself get involved romantically with someone so she has a lot of re-learning to do. This may come with a cost of your feelings being hurt from time to time, especially if you're a sensitive and kind-hearted person. As much as Ambessa loves you and tries to show that, it isn't easy to sweep years of experience under the rug. You'll need to be strong while she gets used to upholding a romantic relationship.

CASSANDRA

Cold and regal, oftentimes comes off as strict. Cassandra only wants the best for you but sometimes she just doesn't know how to say it. So instead she might go behind your back in order to ensure your safety and happiness. This often backfires, especially because of your opposing opinions. You feel as if she's treating you like a child while Cassandra simply thinks that she's looking out for you. Is also insanely stubborn, it'll take time for her to learn to look at things from your perspective.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane headcanons #sevika x reader #grayson x reader #viktor x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #jinx x reader #ekko x reader #silco x reader #vander x reader #ambessa medarda #jayce talis #mel medarda

[bunnyreaper]

the price we pay

kinktober 10 - fuck machine

dom!ghost x sub!reader x sub!soap

(18+/mdni, fuck machine, cuckolding vibes, bondage, degradation, negotiated kink, anal)

Belonging to Simon Riley brought with it a litany of mysteries, both large and small—it's a privilege and a burden you and Johnny both willingly signed up for. 

Simon was always the first (and often only) one to know things in your relationships—plans, observations, feelings, they'd all sit inside his head for weeks or months, waiting for the perfect opportunity to come out. Over time, you've learned to spot the signs of a brewing plan or ruminating thought. This one you picked up on fairly quickly, having made a game of it with Simon. 

Simon sits across from you, lonely on the loveseat as you lounge on the couch, lost in his phone with a focused squint. It's nothing unusual, the two of you spending time together peacefully coexisting in silence—but you sense something amiss.

"You're planning something." You whisper, eyes glued to him as he taps at something on his screen. 

He pauses, gaze connecting with yours as he stares you down, resolute with a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, and?" 

"How long now?" You ask.

"3 weeks." 

"I'm getting faster, Simon!" You punch the air in victory, kicking and flailing your legs in a delighted little dance that makes your lover smile. "Okay, continue, I won't ask any more questions." You giggle as you bite your lip and turn your attention back to the TV, willing yourself to not think about the surprise. 

So you weren't caught completely unaware when one day an oversized, nondescript box was delivered to the door. Johnny's away on an assignment without you both, meaning whatever it is could only belong to Simon, and likely part of whatever he's been working on over the past several weeks. 

Johnny went away aware something was coming, but not knowing what—because unlike Johnny, Simon could keep a secret from his lovers. You've been resorting to unfair tactics with Simon, waiting until he's in his blissed-out, post fuck state to probe him gently. 

You lay draped across Simon, both of you completely bare as you cuddle up—his hot cum still oozing out of you. 

Now's your chance, you think. Simon's always more relaxed post-sex, and you're not going to ask too much. 

Threading your fingers up to his hair, you stroke his scalp and smile as his eyes slip shut. "Is it a gift?" 

"I suppose." He whispers, eyes cracking open as he eyes you wearily, you can see the cogs turning as he debates giving you an inch, and worrying you'll take a mile.

You study him intently, wondering if you can chance another. "For me?" 

"For all of us." He reaches to your chin, tilting it as he leans in for a breath-stealing kiss that silences any further inquiries. "Now that's enough." 

You nod, beyond satisfied as you snuggle back into Simon's chest and try to temper your excitement.

The package arriving perfectly in time for the day Johnny gets home from his mission is very suspicious. 

You'd both spent the afternoon cuddling Johnny on the couch before Simon disappeared upstairs with his box and ordered you both to stay out of the bedroom until he allowed you in. Johnny had probed you for what you knew, as he tried to come up with ideas for what it could be. 

"Mebbes it's a puppy, I'd like tha'" Johnny comments idly as he plays with your hair, stroking through it as he snuggles up behind you.

You giggle, but shake your head, not convinced by that theory. "I'd hope he wouldn't keep a puppy in the box for that long, plus surely it would've made a noise by now." 

"Hmm." Johnny hums. "King size weighted blanket?" 

Simon's eyes had lit up when you had mentioned it in the past. "Ooh, one we can all snuggle under." You wriggle back into Johnny, imagining the comfort of being cuddled up with your boys and blessed with the extra weight. Then again, you didn't really need a weighted blanket when you had them.

You hear Simon's footsteps as he starts to come back downstairs, and you turn over to shush Johnny with a kiss. "Quiet, don't get us in trouble." 

"Aye, lass." 

After an afternoon of soft closeness and conversation, the three of you would usually take this time to head to the bedroom and fuck the missing parties' brain's out, to catch them up on everything they've missed—but the atmosphere is so different, knowing whatever Simon has been planning is just waiting for you upstairs. 

When Simon nods in the direction of the stairs, you both obediently rush to your feet, heading upstairs as he leads the way. 

"Johnny, be a good boy and go take a shower for me." Simon's voice is a stern command as he reaches the landing and stops Johnny from entering the bedroom. "I'll come and get you when I need you, yeah?" 

"Yes, sir." Johnny nods, his eyes widening as they connect with yours. 

Separating the two of you isn't a good sign for what's to come, and your stomach flips with fear as you're led into the bedroom wordlessly.

"Simon?" You ask, voice hesitant he starts to grab some of the items he's prepared. The whispered name doesn't get a response, so you try again. "...Sir?" 

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to you with that expression, the one that tells you his slipping into his dom mindset—head whirring with his plans, with considerations for all of your safety and welcome, and with anticipation for what's to come. "On the bed, now. Clothes off." 

You freeze for a moment, swallowing thickly before you rush to throw up every garment you're wearing—they're hastily discarded on the floor, only to be collected and folded when Simon hits you with a stern look. 

Once you're bare, you lay on the bed, uncertain of what's to come and yet trusting in the other man completely. 

Simon repositions you as he wants you, turning you over on your stomach before pulling up your ass into the air.

The large object at the foot of the bed covered by the sheet hasn't escaped your attention. "What's that?" 

Simon follows your gaze, to the covered mound. Silently, he pulls away the covering to reveal the contraption underneath. 

A fucking machine.

"Wow, fuck. What are you planning?" You gasp, already squirming in anticipation.

Simon steals your focus, turning your head back into the bed. "You'll see." 

His hands run over your naked behind, trailing down your legs before he gets to work gently attaching a spreader bar to your ankles—preparing you to be able to take the dildo attached to the machine. When he's done securing your ankles, he gets to work on securing your wrists together so you're truly helpless. 

You squirm as you feel the lube drip onto your exposed holes, his finger working the slick into your pucker and preparing you. Your head spins, as you begin to anticipate the machine fucking your ass, until you feel the cold metal of a plug and Simon's hand holding your rear. He works slowly, opening you up on a finger or two until he can get the plug inside.  With that done, he leans over, close to your head. 

"Love you." He mumbles as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Safeword?" 

"Red." You confirm, relishing in the feeling of being so safe with your boyfriend and dominant. "Love you too, Si."

"Good girl." 

He gives you a once-over, checking everything is in place, before he moves away. Next, he gets to work on moving the machine, you can just see in your peripheral as you crane your neck that he's moving things around—and then you feel the tip poke at your entrance, positioned so carefully so as to not truly enter you.

"Fuck." You shiver with anticipation, trying to wiggle back onto it only to be met with strong hands stilling your hips. 

You're already so needy, you're barely able to think of how the evening might unfold or what this will all lead to. Right now, you just want relief.  "Are you gonna turn it on?" 

"Not yet." 

You crane your neck to watch as Simon leaves the room, leaving you exposed and anticipating. 

The conversation between him and Johnny in the bathroom is muffled, barely audible over the blood pumping in your ears. 

When they make it to the room, Johnny is being led by Simon, due to the silk wrapped around his eyes. Simon lays him face down on the bed next to you, pulling off his towel and leaving him exposed alongside you. Johnny's already rock hard in anticipation, his cock rubbing against the mattress.

"Why's he blindfolded?" You ask, brain trying to piece together what is happening, what Simon has in store.

Upon hearing your voice, Johnny's hand twitches, wanting to reach out to touch you but knowing instinctively he isn't allowed. Were it not for the blindfold, the two of you would at least be able to share meaningful looks.

"For the surprise." Simon mumbles, as he starts to gather lengths of rope to tie Johnny up with—by the looks of it, your boyfriend was going to be bound head to toe beside you. 

"Oh, so I shouldn't ruin it?" You giggle, teasing Simon with the fact you could disobey and give the game away before he's ready. 

Your words are met with a scoff, and you watch Simon scowl as he pauses. "Not unless you want to trade places with him." 

As Simon gets to work tying Johnny's arms and legs, you realise very quickly that the last thing you want is to trade places with Johnny—at least you're seemingly in more of a position to get pleasure tonight, whereas it seems Johnny might get denied. You also realise that when the blindfold comes off, Johnny's going to be fucking furious. 

"Am getting tied up, ooh." Johnny coos, his tone playful as his lips curl into a smirk. 

You watch, fascinated, as Simon works deftly, securing the black rope over every inch of Johnny's gorgeous body. 

"If it helps, Johnny, I'm a little restrained too—ow!" You don't get to finish your sentence, as Simon cuts you off with a sharp spank. 

"What did I say?" He growls, attention turning to you for a moment to fix you with a steely glare. 

You pout, but bite your tongue from giving any further hints—you know what's good for you, after all. "Sorry, I won't give anything away, sir. Promise." Hopefully, the groveling will keep you in Simon's good books. 

"Yeah, could still be anything." Johnny comments, conspiring with you to keep you out of trouble—bless him. You had a feeling the two of you won't be so allied in a few minutes. 

It becomes clearer to you with each second that this setup is one of Simon's games to play you against one another, and tonight you're the lucky one, rather than the punished. Of course, it's all only temporary, and in the spirit of everyone's enjoyment—outside of the bedroom, you all try your hardest to never create imbalances between you.

"Jokes on us, he's gonna tie us both up and leave us in here, so he can get some peace, Johnny." You joke, trying to keep the mood fairly light.

"'m getting close to it." Simon is back to grumbling, as he finishes up his binds on Johnny's limbs. "Safeword?" 

"Red." Johnny confirms, his expression turning more serious. 

Simon presses a kiss to his forehead before he gets to work on undoing the blindfold."Love you." 

"Love you—" Johnny's words are cut off as his eyes flicker open, and he takes a second to crane his neck around to take in the scene beside him. "—bastard." 

"Don't like what you see, Johnny?" Simon chuckles, low and full of mischief, as he walks toward the bottom of the bed, standing near the machine that is so close to working its way inside you. 

"Fuck you." Johnny snarls, his eyes looking angered and desperate as he meets your gaze. He is, as you expected, furious.

And you hate that his reaction makes you leak—he wants you so bad, and he's being denied, completely at Simon's mercy. 

You want to get fucked so bad, whether it's by Johnny or the machine or Simon, you don't care. But tonight, you know the only thing getting stuffed in your cunt is the dildo on the fuck machine. "Please, sir, please turn it on." The words rush out of your mouth before you can stop them, need coursing through your body.

There's a low growl from both men before Simon speaks first. "Tell Johnny how much you want it." His words are accompanied by him adjusting the dildo at your entrance, getting ready to grant your wish.

Johnny's eyes soften when you look to him, but the fury within is still evident. You hope he sees the softness in your eyes too, hope he can see how helpless you are right now under Simon's spell that is making you complicit.

"Johnny, want it so bad... fuck." You wiggle once more, trying to get any kind of relief. Johnny grits his teeth through the next part. "Tell him to turn it on for me, please."

Another growl from Johnny as he thrashes against the mattress, unable to really do anything at all. "These fucking ropes, as soon as I get—" 

His sentence is interrupted by your moan, loud and uninhibited as the dildo breaches you, working itself in at a tortuously slow rhythm.

Simon is messing with the controls in your peripheral. "How's that?" 

"Slow." You whine, desperate for more already. The machine picks up its pace, fucking into you more steadily as it strokes against your insides. "T-thank you." 

Simon makes his way back to the side of the bed, standing behind Johnny as he taunts the man with his touch, stroking his face delicately as if to subdue and tame a wild animal.

"Is it better than him?" Simon asks, leaning into your field of vision.

You look up at him, mind hazy and unsure what response he wants. Does he want you to humiliate Johnny for him? Is he going to make you say you prefer the machine just to exert his power and control?

Simon senses your hesitation, your need for guidance in this moment, and his hand comes to stroke your face, much like he is already doing with Johnny. "Just looking for the truth, pet."

Your eyes flicker back to Johnny's, noticing the way they shine with something other than anger—fear and humiliation, as he waits for your response. Poor, sweet Johnny, already being broken down into submission by Simon. 

"... No." You whisper truthfully, gaze fixed on Johnny, so you can catch his relief. 

Simon tuts, walking back to the controls to turn them up as if to try and change your mind. "Shame."

The machine's pace increases, ramming the dildo into your cunt faster and faster and forcing the moans out from your pretty little mouth.

Johnny turns ferocious once again. "Yer not seriously gonna leave me here while a machine fucks ma girl instead of me?!" He pleads, desperate and mad and so confused, and yet still working his hips into the mattress for relief. 

"Your girl?" Simon snarls, returning to tug at the roots of Johnny's hair until his head is floating off the bed. 

Johnny swallows, winces at the sensation, and attempts to correct himself. "Our girl." 

Simon throws his head down with little regard, as if he's disgusted to even have touched your other boyfriend.

"My girl." His voice is all growl, threatening and territorial as he crawls onto the bed, ignoring Johnny and his need in favour of yours. "Here's how this is gonna go, Johnny. You're gonna be a good boy and stay there." 

You hear the cap of the lube open, and slick sounds as Simon lubes up his cock—both you and Johnny are breathless in anticipation. 

Simon's fingers then work the plug out of you, and you know exactly what is coming next. You're about to get double penetrated, while Johnny lays there and watches, powerless to stop it. He's wanted both men to take you at once for so long, only to be denied. 

Now it was going to happen without him. 

You feel Simon nudge his cock at your pucker, spreading around the lube there and chuckling at Johnny's livid reaction.

"You're gonna stay there, and me this machine are gonna fuck her better than you ever could."  

#simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #ghoap x reader #call of duty x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #kinktober #soap x ghost x reader

[nickfowlerrr]

i never thought you’d happen to me - 2

part one / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 6.7k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.

You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.

You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.

Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.

You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.

It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.

Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.

How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.

Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time,  he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?

The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.

"Yeah?"

"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."

"Okay," you breathe.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.

----

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling. 

It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another. 

As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him. 

You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear. 

You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier. 

Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head. 

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel. 

A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.

You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.

You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely. 

“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone. 

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.

He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away. 

He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.

You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw. 

“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.

“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.” 

“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.

“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”

“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once. 

“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished. 

Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.

There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in. 

And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him. 

That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail. 

The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.

“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”

Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.

You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did. 

“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.

“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”

You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.

Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.

The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.

He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..

He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.

He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.

His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen. 

He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.

He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back. 

“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.

“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.

He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.

Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.

It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry. 

Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away. 

Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.

Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.

“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.

Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you. 

You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.

When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.

“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair. 

He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm. 

When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.

“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.

You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you. 

You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.

He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.

Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.

He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.

He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.

"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.

"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."

"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.

It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.

He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.

He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.

"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.

He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.

"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.

"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.

You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.

Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.

---

You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.

He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.

Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.

"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.

"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.

You're honestly dumbfounded.

You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.

"No? Then why do you act like you do?"

"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.

He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."

You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.

"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.

"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.

"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.

"That was me admitting that I care about you."

You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"

"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.

"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.

"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."

"Not yet," you counter.

Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.

His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.

"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.

"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.

Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."

You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question. 

He nods.

"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.

You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips. 

You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.

"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.

His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours. 

It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.

You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.

Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.

The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.

The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.

"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.

"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.

"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.

Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.

Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.

"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."

"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.

"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"

"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.

"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."

Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.

When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.

"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.

"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.

"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."

"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"

You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.

"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.

"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.

"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"

She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."

"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.

"I love you more."

"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.

"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.

"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.

"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."

"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."

"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."

You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.

Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.

You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.

You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.

The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.

He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.

"What now?" you whisper.

"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.

You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.

"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"

"Mhm,"

You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.

"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.

His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.

You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.

You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"

Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.

“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”

“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.

“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned. 

Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.

He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.

“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”

You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.

An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be. 

Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.

“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him. 

He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but. 

“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”

“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.

You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.

“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.

“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.

His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another. 

His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.

The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.

“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling. 

His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.

“Steve?” he answers in question. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”

“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.

There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.

“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.

“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears. 

“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”

“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.

“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.

“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”

“Uhhh,”

“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him. 

“Really?” 

“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.

“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.

His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.

“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.

As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door. 

“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall. 

“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.

You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.

As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand. 

“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff. 

“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #the-slumberparty writing challenge

[incognit0slut]

hii, i love you’re writing and i have a song request idea. the song too sweet by hozier would be so cute it could be angst to smut and it could happen late morning or late at night since the lyrics. idk if it makes sense i just thought it’d be cute 😭. again i love your work sm okay, ty, bye 🫶🏾💖🫶🏾💖🫶🏾

Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him.

Warnings: (18+) Professor Reid x Student Fem Reader. Age gap (he’s in his 40s or post-prison era, Reader is in her 20s). Angst and smut. 2.8k words A/n: anon I took your request but I changed it a little to how I interpret this song… which means a lot of ANGST💔 I hope you don’t mind

He knew you were here. He always knew. The usual chaotic sprawl of books scattered throughout his apartment seemed to be in order, and there was a comforting scent lingering in the air that unmistakably belonged to you.

Although Spencer could never really put his finger on your scent. Sometimes you exuded a sweet fragrance, like the delicate petals of a flower, while at other times, a crisp, fresh aroma lingered around you, reminiscent of a morning breeze, or perhaps the soft scent of rain. 

But it didn't matter whether you smelled like a garden in full bloom or the crisp air after a rainstorm, the mere proximity to you brought him the peace he was all too familiar with, and that calmness enveloped him as he made his way toward his bedroom.

You looked like an angel. Sweet, calm, serene. His eyes drifted towards your sleeping form, and he couldn't help but wonder how you could sleep so well after the conversation you both shared this morning. The weight of your mutual decision to end things for good hung heavy in the air, yet here you lay, seemingly unaffected.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, each rhythmic pattern of your breathing seemed to draw him closer. One step, then another, until he found himself standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you, vulnerable in your sleep. And then, as if pulled by an unseen force, he sank into the space beside you.

The bed dipped beneath his weight, and so did his heart. Spencer knew this wasn't the wisest thing to do. He was supposed to be the responsible one, after all, he was older than you. With age came experience, or so he believed, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be the voice of reason.

But as he lay beside you, he couldn't help but question his judgment. Was it truly wisdom that guided him, or was it simply the fear of facing the unknown? Age and maturity seemed like a flimsy construct now, overshadowed by the raw intensity of his emotions. With a heavy sigh, he placed a hand on your waist.

One touch, he told himself, one touch was all he would allow himself.

You felt the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, grounding you in the present moment. Spencer watched intently, well aware he should have pulled back, yet, despite his better judgment, he found himself unable to let go, his grip on you tightening almost instinctively.

His gaze traced your face in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. Despite the early hour, your features seemed to radiate with a warmth that defied the darkness of the dawn. The lines of worry on your brow softened, your lips curved into a gentle smile, and for a fleeting moment, you appeared to embody the very essence of sunshine itself.

It was a peculiar sight, Spencer thought, considering how the world beyond the window remained shrouded in darkness.

"You're home," you muttered as if the word home was a concept you both shared. Perhaps it had once been true, or perhaps it was a dream that had never quite materialized. He felt a pang in his chest, a bittersweet reminder of what once was, or what could have been.

"You're not supposed to be here," he mumbled softly.

"I was going to give you back your keys, but you weren't here," you confessed. "And I wanted to wait for you."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "So you decided to wait on my bed?"

"It seemed like the most comfortable spot."

"You've always liked my bed."

You shook your head. "It's not the bed, per se. It's the feeling of being close to you..." Your gaze softened as you met his eyes. "Even when you're not here."

Time seemed to stand still as he met your gaze, a rush of emotions swirling beneath the surface. "I'm not here most of the time," he said after a pause.

"I know."

"That's not fair to you."

A heavy silence fell into place.

"I know," you replied quietly.

"And the next time we do see each other," he continued, his tone tinged with resignation, "Is when I'm standing in front of class with you sitting between the seats."

"Spencer, I know," you pressed, your voice barely concealing the ache in your heart. "We went through this conversation this morning."

"Then why are you still here?"

You held his gaze, your eyes reflecting countless emotions—sadness, longing, and perhaps a hint of defiance. "Because," you began softly, "I still can't bring myself to leave."

His heart clenched at your words, the weight of them settling heavily upon him. He had expected defiance, anger, perhaps even resentment, but your quiet admission caught him off guard.

"Why?" he asked.

You looked away. "You know why."

He knew the reasons, of course, he knew them all too well. But hearing them spoken aloud, seeing the pain reflected in your eyes, brought the harsh reality of the situation. He reached out, gently grasping your chin and guiding your gaze back to meet his.

"This is for the best," he replied quietly, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. He knew the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears, but he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth—that perhaps, deep down, he was trying to protect himself as much as he was trying to protect you.

"For me or for you?"

He hesitated, the lump in his throat growing heavier with each passing moment.

"For both of us," he admitted softly.

It was the truth, undeniable and painful. He couldn't deny the impact of your relationship if it continued down its current path. Not only was he much older than you, but he was also supposed to be your mentor, your teacher, your professor.

His role was meant to guide you. He was supposed to impart knowledge, not to engage in illicit affairs behind closed doors. He had allowed himself to become too invested in you, to give you more attention than was appropriate, more than was fair to his other students.

But it wasn't just about him anymore—it was about you. He couldn't bear the thought of tainting your pure, sweet soul with the darkness that came with him. He had done things he wasn't proud of, and made choices that he wished he could undo, and now, as he looked at you, he couldn't help but feel a sense of shame.

You deserved better than to be with someone who carried the weight of his past like a heavy burden.

"So this it?" You asked.

All he could do was nod. A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. "Fine. Just..." You paused, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. "I'll leave as soon as you tell me the truth."

He felt a knot tighten in his chest as he waited for you to continue.

"Tell me you don't love me and I'll leave."

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, the pain evident in his eyes as he struggled to find the right response. He knew that he had to be honest with you, no matter how difficult it might be.

But as he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat. How could he deny the truth when every fiber of his being longed for you? How could he let you go when you were the one thing he couldn't bear to lose?

"I..." he began, his voice faltering as he searched for the courage to speak the words you so desperately needed to hear. But no matter how hard he tried, the words refused to come.

"Say it," you urged. "Say you don't love me and I'll leave you for good."

Taking a deep breath, he met your gaze and braced himself for the pain his words would inflict on you.

"I don't love you," he whispered, the words feeling like a betrayal even as they left his lips. It was a lie, and he knew it. And yet, he couldn't find the courage to admit his feelings for you.

The air around you seemed to thicken with tension. He had braced himself for the pain his lie would bring, but nothing could prepare him for the look of hurt and disbelief that crossed your face at his words. You were the one who asked for this, yet hearing him admit to it so easily shattered your heart into pieces.

"You're... you're lying."

Spencer felt a pang of guilt shoot through him at the sight of your pain. He knew that he would regret what he was about to do, but he couldn't stand the thought of you walking away without knowing the truth, without knowing how much he truly cared for you.

So he closed the distance between you, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck. And then, without hesitation, he leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. For a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the warmth of his touch, the tenderness of his kiss.

But as quickly as it had begun, it came to an end, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You pulled back and searched his eyes for answers. "You're lying," you repeated.

He sighed heavily, his forehead resting against yours. "I-I don't love you."

Your chest tightened again. How could he say that when his touch was so tender, when his gaze held so much depth? Frustration and hurt boiled over as your nails dug into his skin, gripping his wrist firmly as you held his face close to yours.

"Stop lying to me," you pleaded almost desperately. "Stop fucking lying to yourself."

He closed his eyes. He knew that he couldn't keep lying to you, and yet, the words refused to leave his lips, trapped by the fear of what might happen if he dared to speak them aloud.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart as he pulled you closer, not knowing what else to do to ease the pain away.

So he kissed you again.

He kissed you as if he was apologizing, each gentle press of his lips against yours a silent plea for forgiveness. He kissed you as if he needed to convey his feelings that he couldn't express with words, his touch speaking volumes where his voice fell short.

He kissed you as if you were everything to him, as if the taste of you was sweeter than any other, as if he couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it. He kissed you desperately and unapologetically, it was sweet yet painful, tender yet desperate, as if every moment shared between you was both a blessing and a curse.

You could taste the bitterness of goodbye on his lips, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let go, not when his touch still felt like home. So you pushed your tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him even as you knew it would only make saying goodbye that much harder.

Your breathing became heavy as you felt his hand glide down from your cheek to your neck. He then pulled away, his lips still tingling from the taste of you as he licked them unconsciously. His gaze followed the movement of his hand as it settled on your breast.

You could feel the tension between you crackling in the air, the desire that pulsed between you almost tangible, as he brushed your nipple over your shirt. A gasp escaped your lips as he continued to tease you, each touch sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

You knew that this wasn't the wisest thing to do. You were both playing with fire and giving in to the temptation could only lead to more heartache. But you couldn't help yourself, not when your body was coming alive with the familiarity of his touch, not when you knew that this might be the last time you could feel him as close.

So when his hand slipped further down, tracing a path over your stomach, past your legs, you let him. The anticipation built within you as his touch hiked up your skirt, your breath catching in your throat. And when the rough pad of his fingers ghosted over the material of your panties, you found yourself instinctively spreading your legs apart, inviting him closer.

As the first electric surge rushes through you, the smallest of breaths escapes your lips, signaling the release of the tension you had been holding in your lungs. Your hands found purchase against his shoulders, nails digging into his t-shirt tightly as you felt him pressing onto your folds.

You both stared at each other, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you. There were so many emotions in his—sadness, frustration, and a burning desire that mirrored your own. And yet, despite the turmoil that raged within him, you found yourself unable to look away, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze.

As his hand worked its magic between your thighs, you felt yourself growing wetter by the minute, desire pooling low in your belly. And then, with a sense of purpose, he pulled his hand away, his fingers deftly finding the band of your panties as he coaxed the thin material down your legs. 

How did he manage to bring himself into this situation again? It was a familiar pattern, one that he had promised himself he would break, and yet, here he was, like a moth to a flame, irresistibly drawn to you.

Or perhaps it was more like you were a precious flower, delicate and beautiful, and he was drawn to you like a bee to nectar, unable to resist the sweet temptation that you offered.

Whatever the reason, he knew that he couldn't stay away from you. With trembling hands, he buried his fingers between your thighs once more, finally touching your bare, slick skin. The slickness of your arousal coated his fingers as he explored every inch of your delicate folds, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

And then, unable to resist any longer, he pressed a single finger inside your entrance, the sensation causing you to gasp in pleasure. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your tightness enveloping him, before picking up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment.

"Please," you muttered, gulping and concentrating on the feeling of him slowly pumping his single digit in and out of your tightening, dripping walls. 

But what were you begging for? For him not to stop? Or for him not to let you go? Maybe both, and for now, the only thing he could do was give you the pleasure you so desperately craved.

He could feel the tension building within you, the way your body arched and trembled. And as he continued to pleasure you, he made a silent vow to himself—to give you everything he could at this moment, to make you feel alive and wanted, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

So he continued to move his finger inside you, and as he felt you drawing closer to the edge, he knew that he couldn't stop now. His thumb found your clit, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as he applied gentle pressure. Then with a sense of urgency, he plunged another finger deep inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way possible.

Your grip on his shirt tightened, your nails digging into the fabric as you clung to him desperately. "Pl-Please," you begged, heavy eyes searching for his own. "Please don't leave me."

His heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in your voice, the depth of emotion written plainly across your face. He couldn't bear to look at you any further, so he buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing tender kisses against your skin as his fingers continued their fast-paced rhythm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with anguish. "I'm so sorry."

His words were barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths, but you heard him clearly, and a loud moan ripped out of you. This was the cruelest form of rejection; to find pleasure in his touch only to be denied the warmth of his affection. You wanted to push him away, to scream at him for playing with your emotions, for making you believe there was something more. But as his fingers continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you ever closer to the edge of ecstasy, you found yourself unable to resist.

So you surrendered to him completely, because all that mattered was here and now—the ache between your legs, his lips worshiping your body, and the undeniable connection that bound you together, even as the world threatened to tear you apart.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid angst

[unmarlou]

silver soul.

pairings. percy jackson x fem!reader.

summary. a late night trip to montauk beach.

lacy says. percy jackson the loml since i was like ten LMAO. i seriously love the idea of percy considering his s/o being drenched like an extension of himself. i usually put the song to let u know the inspo but this time i recommend listening while reading! ok bye luv u.

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percy found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes on the road.

by compulsion, he’d sneak a look at his right hand side every few minutes, trying to retain every detail perfectly.

the blue and silver hue curtesy of the night, your image contrasted against the shrubs of grass lining the beach. the way your hair rippled behind you from the strong breeze of the open window, your hand extended beyond yourself in hopes of catching air in your palm.

the only thought that could cross his mind was a desperate wish for a camera, a way to capture this sight and keep it forever.

his eyes reluctantly returned to the empty road. there hadn’t been car to pass in awhile, which made him feel less bad about looking away as frequently as he did. not to mention how familiar it all was, he knew what pace to keep, what turns to make, how much longer it’d be.

the wind brushed past rapidly, giving the skin a break from the exhausting summer humidity. it’d been a bit since the saltwater smell had arrived, but it nonetheless filled the car with a renewed sense of excitement.

the music of the radio echoed beyond itself, reminding the seagulls and grains of sand that they weren’t alone.

rounding a corner that percy knew all too well, he glanced at you again, only this time you were already looking at him. his hair was blown about, his toned arms sharply displayed ahead of him, and there was a gleam in his green eyes you liked to believe was only ever meant for you.

the car was brought to a halt in the middle of a deserted parking lot and you smiled at him, before wordlessly rushing out and away.

he was quick to follow, not before reaching into the backseat to retrieve the beach towels you’d brought. opening his car door and looking beyond, his heart raced with anticipation at the stark white moon shining over the dark water.

he ran and ran and ran after you. you’d discarded the t-shirt worn over your bathing suit in the sand alongside your shoes. he smiled to himself, quickly unfurling a towel and tossing your things upon it.

he then removed his own shirt, throwing it next to everything else mindlessly- he couldn’t be bothered with being meticulous when the sea was calling him. he chased your footprints down the beach but stopped right at the edge as he caught wind of you.

you’d emerged from the water. a story percy had heard about a beautiful creature coming up from the sea foam flashed in his mind but he could barely form a full thought to put a name to it. the moon was bright behind you, lining your silhouette in pure silver. illuminating with each stride, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought you were the most heavenly neried.

water soaked your body and he was absolutely taken by the sight. he felt that in some strange way, you were completely submerged in him. seeing you in the sea, you and him had become one.

you dragged yourself through the waves over, a water dripping hand extended to him, “c’mon!”

without hesitation he accepted, though he was still watching you with half a mind. as you led him farther in, his eyes grazed your rising and falling chest littered with droplets.

waist deep now and unable to help himself, he pulled on your hand, bringing you to him with a small yelp, earning a breathless chuckle at your surprise.

your arms instinctively came to rest around his neck, staring up at him through waterlogged lashes, “hi.”

“hi yourself.”

waves crashed everywhere but around the two of you. one of his hands found its way down to your leg, bringing it to his waist in indication. once you were completely entangled to him, both his hands rested comfortably around your waist.

“it’s not fair, you know,” you told him.

his head tilted slightly, “what isn’t?”

“you get to be all dry.” your eyes narrowed at him and he laughed.

“you want me to get wet?” he mused with his famous smirk.

“mhm.”

“whatever you say.”

on his word, both of you plunged underwater. you stayed tied to him, although bubbles and strands of hair clouded any visions of one another for a few seconds. once they were away, you saw his hair floating off his head and knew he was concentrating well enough to keep it wet per your request.

light seeped in in rays, encapsulating the both of you, creating a comfortable warmth that almost made you want to stay.

a hand left your hips to reach your cheek and pulled you into a kiss. even underwater, his lips were still as soft albeit slightly most salty than you remembered.

arms still locked around each other and lips moving in sync, you breached the surface. pulling away and taking a deep breath, percy seemed to chase after your mouth for a second, forgetting you couldn’t also breath underwater.

catching your breath, and looking at him in full, his dark hair stuck to his forehead and water ran down the tip of his nose. you brushed it away with a giggle, returning both hands to the sides of his face.

looking at you above him, he smiled, “better?”

“much.”

he gave a small nod, mouth slightly agape, searching your features with that same gleam in his now blue-green eyes. his voice suddenly lowered to a whisper, “did i ever tell you you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen?”

you gave a reluctantly shy smile, the temperature in your face rising despite the breeze, “only every day.”

he chided, “not nearly enough.”

he watched you with intent, as your head lifted up to the sky. no matter the circumstances, he’d only ever want to look at you. your shoulders wore streams of ocean that resembled himself. he gently pressed his lips to your collarbone without conviction.

moonlight once again took the whole of you, your skin glowing in an almost religious way.

as you were blissfully unaware and gazing at the stars, percy was able to form his first full thought since you’d gotten in his car all those hours ago; you were now consumed in him, the way he’d always been of you.

· · ౨ৎ · ·

navigation.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo #pjo fanfic #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson fic #heroes of olympus fanfiction #book percy jackson #fanfic #Spotify

[cheqorb]

OFF-SCRIPT ROMANCE ft. reo, sae, kaiser

you’re both just in a fake relationship for both of your own benefits, nothing more is going on behind the scenes! and it’s definitely not actual love!

NOTES: made in mind with characters aged up to maybe around 20+ ish? i’ll continue working on mer-love requests. im even thinking of opening bnha requests since i’ve gotten back into it recently. can’t tell if kaiser is ooc or not, but i’m sure you guys are sick of my apologies so i’ll try to stop LMAOO

edit: wrote this before kaiser’s backstory and goddamn it.

as the heir to the illustrious mikage corporation, REO knew, deep down, that the time would come when he'd have to step into his parents' shoes and take control of the company. and speaking of which, his parents seem to be growing increasingly more eager to see him settle down, constantly badgering him about finding a suitable partner whenever he visited them. however, his career of being a professional soccer player meant that he would probably only be able to see them if he played games in japan itself, which rarely happened anyway.

he wasn’t an idiot; maintaining a relationship with his schedule would be practically impossible, his s/o would certainly get tired of it after a few months, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of forcing them to travel with him to every single match.

the thought of starting a relationship under false pretenses, merely to appease his parents, left a bitter taste in his mouth. he wasn’t exactly the type of guy who wanted to break someone’s heart over this. reo was stuck wondering how on earth he could pull this off, until by some stroke of genius, you came into his mind.

though not close friends, your paths had crossed enough times for him to recognise your presence. considering your own status as the heir to your own family’s fortune, his parents would also approve of you. plus, you’re already familiar with the expectations such wealth brings, surely, the lifestyle of being his significant other wouldn’t be too different from the one you already had?

as reo stumbled over his words, his usually confident demeanor giving way to a palpable sense of unease, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy. despite his attempts to mask his nerves, it was clear that this request weighed heavily on him, even more so than his typical bravado could conceal.

“so, i was hoping you could consider—“

his tentative smile faltered as you swiftly interjected, a curt “yes” escaping your mouth before he could even finish his carefully rehearsed proposal. the relief in his eyes was unmistakable, though tinged with a hint of disbelief at your response. his expression softened, a mixture of surprise and relief evident in his features. “you…you don’t need to make your decision so quickly,” he stammered, clearly taken aback by your immediate acceptance. “i understand it’s a difficult thing to ask of you…”

reo couldn't help but feel nervous, in hindsight, the arrangement had fallen a little too seamlessly into place. your willingness to dive headfirst into a relationship without a moment's hesitation freaked him out slightly, but it did ultimately solve his problem! with you by his side, he could continue his career while still making his parents happy.

of course, he still had his doubts but you seemed perfectly happy to spend your days in comfort and go on luxurious vacations with your friends if he had matches coming up.

and as if his luck couldn’t get any better, you’re quite the lovely person yourself. even in the absence of his parents, you always go above and beyond to maintain appearances (he thinks that’s what your trying to do anyway?) and ensure he’s happy. whether it was a home-cooked meal awaiting him after a long day or your presence in the stands, cheering him on during matches, your seemingly genuine care for him truly warmed reo's heart.

in return, reo finds himself taking extra care of you, making sure you’ve got nice clothes to wear, randomly calling you in the middle of the night, a slip of the tongue petname here and there…

nagi could only only sigh (internally in his head, it’s too much work to actually sigh) as reo picked up his phone for the umpteenth time this hour. “maybe they’re just sleeping..?” he offers, though it doesn’t seem to help very much.

“they haven’t responded to any texts, they won’t even pick up the phone…” the man laments, sulking in the corner of the room, “my dear (name) could be in danger and i’m not there to help them-“

a quick ding from his phone soon shoots him upright from his misery, a hopeful look now on his face. he only seems more cheerful once he notices it’s a voice message too, he just loves listening to you speak! your voice is always so— ‘reo, please go to sleep, it’s late in (country) right now, isn’t it? call me back in the morning, don’t you dare think of staying up to text me.’

huh? does he really do that?

SAE’s attitude and abrasive personality is definitely one of his manager’s least favourite qualities about him. the midfielder's dislike for interviews and meet-and-greets, coupled with his unabashed insults towards those he found irritating, posed a significant challenge for his public image. while some die-hard fans may have been drawn to his aloofness in the first place, it was hardly the ideal image for sponsorship deals or modeling contracts.

his manager entertained the idea of sae entering into a relationship. perhaps, he mused, the presence of a significant other could soften his rough edges and make him more approachable to the public. though he doubted sae would ever agree to such a scheme, he was a bit desperate now. can’t hurt to try, right?

as you sat outside the room, the tension hung heavy in the air. each candidate that emerged only served to heighten your nerves, leaving you questioning your decision to agree to this dumb offer in the first place. the obvious heartbroken expressions of the people leaving the room, along with the unmistakable voice of itoshi sae uttering the word "rejected," did little to ease the growing pit in your stomach.

finally, your name was called, and you entered the room with as little flair/flamboyance as you could, no need to embarrass yourself more than you already will. his bored expression did little to boost your confidence and you found yourself avoiding direct eye contact as you introduced yourself in a sheepish manner. “hello, uhm, it’s nice to meet you. i’m (l/n) (name).”

despite sae’s initial perception of you, there was something about your genuine yet unassuming nature that intrigued him. you spoke about yourself with an honesty that bordered on indifference, almost as if you had resigned yourself to an inevitable rejection so you didn’t care how genuinely insane the things you were saying were. (seriously, wdym in college you went to a skate park and came home with a horse…)

the words escape his mouth before he can even think of what he’s saying, “look up at me.”

his request caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but stammer out an apology before reluctantly meeting his gaze. under the intensity of his teal eyes, you felt a pang of self-consciousness but thankfully maintained your composure until the end. “but, uh. that’s all I can really say about myself. thanks for listening to me.”

you flash him a smile, before swiftly getting up and exiting through the door without even letting him get a word in. ‘finally, that’s over with…’ you do feel a little bad for sae though, hopefully he would take an interest in at least one of the candidates that came in after you.

you truly believed you had created a lasting impression of someone who was most definitely not a good fit for a prodigy like him (as well as a bit of a weirdo), so imagine your shock at the email sent to you the very next day by his manager. to make a long paragraph short, you got the position! well done..?

and now, his manager arranged for you and sae to meet together for a first date to truly make sure this relationship would, at the bare minimum, allow you to be cordial with one another. well, that’s what he was hoping for anyway. if you’ve got a person like sae on your hands, you learn to not expect things to turn positive.

his blunt remarks and stoic demeanor could’ve easily derailed the evening, but to your credit, you held your own with decent resilience considering how timid you seemed upon your first meeting. in spite of the occasional falter at his words, you continued to only show kindness towards him.

he’d never, ever, admit it out loud but he does feel a little guilty at how you just take his words without complaint. he had expected some form of resistance or annoyance from you, yet you only met his words with a laugh or simply ignoring it, leaving him feeling unexpectedly unsettled. also slightly questioning your self esteem.

just as he was contemplating bringing the date to a close, you suddenly bow your head with a smile on your face. one that really captivated sae because of the actual, sheer sincerity in it.

“thank-you, sae, i mean it. you’ve been very nice to me considering i’ve just been talking your ear off this whole time, so thanks for that. i liked today a lot.”

with your words hanging in the air, sae was at a loss for how to respond. what was he supposed to do after hearing that? not decide right there and then that he wanted to give you the entire world and more? (I’M SO SORRY I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME WRITE SAE WITHOUT HIM BEING EXTREMELY OOC)

unlike the other two, KAISER’s situation can vary a little more. as in, his reasons for needing a pretend relationship can differ depending on anything. it could stem from dissatisfaction from his management, a desire to maintain his image, or simply on a whim. regardless of the reason, you’re stuck with him one way or another.

his overconfident demeanor can be jarring at times, even though you thought you had steeled yourself for it beforehand. it doesn’t seem to disappear even when the two of you are alone together; which by common sense, should be when you’re most comfortable with each other, no? yet, there are also instances when his bravado feels forced, the occasional slip in his facade.

for better or for worse, you hesitated to say anything; not wanting to overstep any boundaries. you weren’t his actual s/o, you were getting paid like the relationship was a career. besides, would someone as arrogant as to call themselves ’emperor’ even want help from you? if you’re the more compassionate type, you may just immediately cave in and try to help. well, even if you aren’t, you’ll find it increasingly difficult to ignore him, ultimately realising he definitely doesn’t plan on seeking help himself.

initially, he adamantly opposes any attempts from you, making it clear he preferred to deal with his troubles alone or that he didn’t need your help. your persistence is slightly alarming to kaiser, whose probably wondering if you’re trying to increase your allowance or something, but he still doesn’t give in (yet).

suppressing a sigh, you turn on your heel after placing a cup of water and a modest plate of food on the coffee table. staying where you're evidently not wanted seems pointless. "try to eat something before heading to bed, kaiser…need anything, just tell me, kay?" the words spill from your mouth almost automatically, probably since they’ve already been said countless times before.

as you take a step forward, a sudden tug on your arm sends you tumbling to the floor. "ow-"

kaiser remains silent, clutching your hand as if it were his lifeline. awkwardly, you place your hand on his shoulder, engaging him in small talk. though he doesn’t respond, he doesn't push you away either. it's progress of sorts, you suppose?

after that, there’s a gradual improvement in your relationship! kaiser appears to be coping better, even seeming happier than before. good for him, you think to yourself.

even so, you figured that your dynamic with each other still wouldn’t change all that much. you’d help him out whenever he needed you to, you’d both continue with your lives as usual. however, fate clearly had other plans.

for starters, he’s much more affectionate in private moments rather than it simply being for the public eye. gone are the days when displays of affection were reserved solely for public appearances. now, it’s like there isn't a day that passes without his presence: resting his head on your shoulder, intertwining fingers, or wrapping his arms around your waist. and then there’s also the random pet names he bestows upon you.

another change would be that kaiser genuinely cares if you’re around or not. attending his matches had become routine to you, necessary to maintain the image of being his supportive significant other but nothing more.

while you had no intention of not going, you couldn't help but notice kaiser's new habit of personally inviting you to his matches. with a smug grin, he would insist on you showing up, emphasising how he wanted you in the crowd, cheering him on. instead of receiving tickets through the usual channels (his manager, mostly), he even took it upon himself to hand-deliver them to you!

with the crowd roaring with excitement, signalling the start of the match was close by, kaiser's gaze finds its way to you. he takes a stride in your direction, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin to face him.

you meet his eyes, a questioning expression flickering across your features, as he lets out a dramatic sigh. "how cold of you, (name). i mean, a supportive partner would offer a kiss for good luck, wouldn't they?" he says, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

he’s ever so slightly more unbearable like this though. how awful!!

#CHEQ. writing #CHEQ. from the heart #CHEQ. bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader

[blackswan446]

Could you please write about yandere who's a fuckboy? At first he was just gonna play with her reader's heart but ended up being obsessed with her. Any member is fine. Thank you so much in advance if you end up writing it!

lifetime.

→ pairing: yan!jjk x reader

→ synopsis: we live for so many years, why not make them the happiest you can?

→ wc: 5362

→ cws: kidnapping/coercion, death, funeral, sexual advances

→ notes: yay my first ask! hope you enjoy, and sorry it took so long :(

part two || m.list

jungkook was a womanizer.

at least, that's what everybody else called him. he liked to think of himself as...social. sure, he got around a bit, but that's just how young men lived. especially young men like him. born with a silver spoon in his mouth, the man was set up for success from the moment he was born. who cares if that success came at the expense of a childhood with present parents and a sense of family beyond a name?

needless to say, jungkook's reputation followed him wherever he went, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing for him. it gained him a different type of respect from other men of his status, and only seemed to draw more and more women into his addictive orbit, no thanks to his looks and suave personality. assistants, secretaries, office workers, even the wives of others, you name the woman, if she was around jungkook for a while, it's more than likely they had something going on.

what a shame he never stuck around. what a shame he would lure them in, with promises of extravagant dates, fancy dresses, and luxurious houses, all to have the chandelier fall back down on them in the form of "we're just not compatible!" although they acted sad, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were really so heartbroken over. the life of their dreams was hanging just within their grasp, all for it to be ripped away and dangled over the head of another girl. anyone would be sad about that.

did it ever get boring?...sometimes. but there lived no fun without the dullness. for every batch of girls that cycled in and out of his life, there were always a few sticklers. sticklers, who didn't leave quietly, but put up a fight, refused to leave, spat insults at him, one even keyed his expensive sports car. these ones were usually paid a hefty sum to see their way out of his life, and what was funny, is that every single girl who was offered the money took it and left. they didn't even give it a second thought.

the idea of settling down sounded nice for about a year, until he quickly realized that it was easier said than done for a man of his rank. it would be far too easy to lock in with a woman that married him for his house, his cars, his fortune, than for him. he didn't need to be bled dry by some selfish woman who resorted to marrying rich after her failed acting career. so alone he stayed, or rather, lonely. he was rarely alone with himself. but he always had this aching feeling of loneliness in his chest.

that was, until one little choice altered his entire life.

"this is who we've narrowed down for the secretary position, sir. it was difficult, as there were a lot of highly qualified applicants, but these are my choices. i figured you could get the final say, if you don't mind." sehyun concluded, leaving the stack of folders in front of jungkook on his desk. sighing deeply, he looked at he pile, then back to the man before him. "are you sure you want me to choose?"

sejun nodded. "yes, sir. unless, of course, you don't want to." he clarified. jungkook shook his head. "no, it's fine. i've got it." he said, reaching for the pile. shutting his eyes, and shuffling the folders in his hands, he grabbed a random one from the middle and held it up. "this one." he declared, handing it back to sejun.

taking it from the male, he opened the file to read the contents. "who's our lucky winner, sejun?" he joked, leaning back in his chair lazily. "looks like it's [first name/last name]. sound alright to you?" he asked, looking to his boss for approval. he nodded. "sounds great to me. she sounds pretty." he remarked, smiling at his own words. with a courtesy laugh and farewell, sejun left, shutting the door behind him. after he was gone, jungkook looked at the pile of papers left behind, and tossed them in the garbage without thinking twice.

it's almost as if he knew he would never need them again.

tapping your foot anxiously, you glanced around the clean waiting room, observing the decorations, the paintings, and even taking note of the sweet smell of the room, the smell of a fresh flower garden in the midst of spring. the only sound that filled the room was the typing of the receptionist on her computer, along with the occasional conversation from the office behind her. the seconds passed like minutes, the minutes like hours, as you waited for in the chair the receptionist sent you to. why were you in a chair? who knows, you told her you had been hired, but she still sent you to wait amongst the clients. you certainly fit in with them, wearing your nicest clothes and cleanest shoes.

finally, you heard the call of your name from behind the desk, and looked up to see a man rushing towards you. "[name], i'm so sorry to keep you waiting. how long have you been here?" he asked apologetically. you shook your head. "oh please, don't worry about it. i haven't been here for long." you reassured him, smiling in an attempt to ease his worries. "well, welcome to jeon industries. on behalf of everyone, we're all very happy you're here." he beamed, leading you down a carpeted hallway to a small, messy office. "here, have a seat--i guess you've been doing a lot of that today," he chuckled, "and i'll get you setup with your badge and login information."

you nodded, accepting his invitation to sit down in the cushy chair in front of his desk. the office was disorganized, but not in a way that made you want to leave. it looked more like the office of someone who was always hard at work, rather than someone who just didn't bother to clean. 'so you're fresh out of college, right? how's the real world been treating you?" he asked, typing away on his computer before searching around for something on his cluttered desk. "so far, so good. i'm here, aren't i?" you replied, half-smiling. he nodded slowly. "right you are...alright, here's a temporary badge. we'll get you an official one once we can get the photographer in for your picture. and this," he said, handing you a yellow sticky note with some writing scribbled on it, "is your login information for your computer. now i'll bring you to your desk, and get you setup with your trainer, and you'll be good to go!" he said cheerily, standing up from the chair and heading for the door.

a long series of hallways led to your desk, which was situated right outside of a sleek wooden door, on which a gold plate that was engraved with the name "jeon jungkook". the door had glass on either side, that peeked into the office, where you caught a glimpse of the supposed mr. jeon, on a phone call at his desk. unfortunately, he looked up from his desk at the exact moment you were peering into the office, resulting in one second of awkward eye contact before you turned your head away and your eyes met the ones of a new girl.

"hi!" she grinned, "i'm aera. i work in accounting, right down the hall. you're [name], right?" she asked, sticking her hand out for you to shake. taking it, you introduced yourself. "yes, hello, it's nice to meet you, aera!" you said confidently, her kind manner easing your burning nerves. "i'll let you two get started here. aera, thank you for your time, and [name], if you need anything, you can come to either of us, and we'll help you out. alright?" he asked. at your nod, he gave one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

aera clasped her hands. "well, isn't this exciting! i love when we get new people here. let's start your training, shall we?"

jungkook saw you. you tried to look away, you tried to act like you weren't staring him down, but he always saw the stares. it's not like he had any issue with it, of course. he loved when people looked at him, especially pretty girls such as yourself. and to think that you were just going to be sitting outside, doing nothing else but running around for his sake! he had been looking for a new distraction from his work, his life, his everything. and it looks like he just found it.

three months had passed, three months of your little desk, new friendships, and great work. the job was going great for you; of course, it was work, so it did have its downsides, but the good far outweighed the bad. your coworkers welcomed you in with open arms, despite your young age and inexperience, they respected you and valued your opinions, which alleviated about 80% of your worries.

as for the job itself, it was great. all you really did was secretary work, like scheduling meetings, booking dinner reservations, and calling other businessmen, all for the ceo.

jeon jungkook.

what an interesting man.

right off the bat, jungkook was very...friendly...to you. the first day you were there, without aera by your side to help you, he moseyed on out of his office and right to your desk, taking the opportunity to "personally introduce" himself to you, and by that, he meant saying his name and staring at you like a piece of meat as he carried on a meaningless conversation.

from then on, he was always just around. wherever you were, he always seemed to find himself. for a while, you thought he was just being welcoming. but when it didn't let up after the first month, you started to think that there were some sort of ulterior motives at play. no ceo has any reason to be getting his secretary gifts every week, nor any reason to grab the small of her waist every time he passes behind her. the questions in your head came to an end when aera revealed the young man's real self, in a serious conversation over some hot breakroom coffee.

"he's a major...manwhore!" she revealed, going on to recount all the numbers of women she had heard him being with in her few years there. "he's been with virtually every woman here." you looked at her in disbelief, and you didn't need to ask the question for her to give you an answer. she nodded slowly, staring into her mug. "i'm not proud of it..i was young, and i liked the attention. i feel so stupid now." she admitted.

it all made sense to you now, the touching, the presents, the prolonged conversations about the lobby decorations. it all clicked. he only saw you as another trophy to win and put into his glass case with all the other girls he had tainted. you wanted to be shocked, but with someone of his authority and resources, it'd be a lie to say you expected differently. it was a shame, sure, but at least you knew now.

jungkook, on the other hand, had no clue what your problem was. it didn't usually take him this long to seduce a girl. what more did he have to do? he did everything he knew of--gifts, of pretty flowers and expensive candies, having long and invested conversations together, he even resorted to the subtle-touching method. how long was this going to take?! did you have a boyfriend, or were you saving it for marriage, or were you just a prude?

as frustrating as this loss was, especially for someone who always won, there was something strange about it that he...liked? he didn't know either. but it was oddly addicting, the challenge of it. the unfamiliarity of it. of not being given into at the first smile. the need to actually try, even if it was for something so shallow,

he just liked trying.

the night had come, and left a wash of black over everything that was once bright and clear. you could see the night sky from your window, and the stars glittered like moonlight on the ocean. throwing your things into your bag sloppily, in a hurry to get out out of the office and into the cool nighttime air. you were scheduled to have left an hour ago, but a cold had set you back a few days last week, and you needed to catch up on the work that was left waiting for you.

slinging your purse over your shoulder and pushing in your chair, you walked to jungkook's door to bid him farewell for the evening. as grossed out as you were by him, it would be rude to not say goodbye to your boss, at least, you thought it was. poking your head in the door, you barely got the word 'goodbye' out before noticing something strange.

jungkook wasn't hunched over his desk, or talking on his phone, or even on his computer. instead of bidding you a cheeky goodbye, he was standing at his large window, which overlooked the city and its bright lights. furrowing you brows, you debated going further inside to ask what was wrong, but the young man had already picked up on your presence, so you couldn't back out now.

"[name]," he said, not in his normal flirtatious tone, "heading out?" he glanced at the time on his watch. "i guess so. it's pretty late." you took a few steps into his office, staying close to the door. "yeah, i was. but are you alright? i saw you just...standing there." you asked quietly, nervous that your simple question had overstepped some type of boundary.

he nodded quickly. "yeah, yeah. i'm alright, thanks...just thinking, i guess." he said, turning his body to face you entirely. you cocked your head to the side. "about what? anything in particular?" you asked, mentally slapping yourself. this is probably exactly what he wants to happen, you thought, you were being too kind to him. but you couldn't exactly leave now, you were too far in.

he sighed. "honestly? yeah. i was just thinking...what if i'm not fit for this? i mean, today, i noticed that our revenue numbers have gone down, and not by just a little bit. i mean, i hear all the time that it's normal for companies to fluctuate in their numbers, but nobody ever talks about it. and it scares me. it makes me think that i'm doing something wrong." he confessed, looking down at his shiny leather shoes.

"i see." was all you could say. what else was there? were you supposed to give him business advice? "and i have my father breathing down my neck, always reminding me that i need to have this big, important life, that i need to get married, and run a corporation perfectly, and learn french, and piano, and racquetball, and all this other bullshit, and i can barely keep my head above water!" he complained, having shifted from the window to his desk chair. he chuckled slightly, after a moment. "i'm sorry, [name], god, i get asked one question, and i go off on a tangent. you don't deserve that."

you smiled softly. "don't worry, mr. jeon. i'm the one who asked. as for everything else you said...nobody said you need to do it all at once. you're young, sir. you have a lot of life ahead of you. you have plenty of time to do all of those things, and even more things, that you can choose. you're not running out of time. and i'm sorry you feel like you are." you consoled, scolding yourself for the cliché advice you just gave.

instead of scoffing, he nodded his head slowly. "i guess you're right. i mean, i'm only 28. i won't be going anywhere anytime soon." he mused. you smiled, this time more broadly. "you've given me a lot to think about, [name]. thank you. seriously." he said, his signature grin returning to his face. with a quiet goodbye, you scurried out of the office, eager to get out into the fresh air, and away from the incidental therapy session you just had with your boss.

the next day, you walked in, and as you approached your desk, you were greeted by the biggest arrangement of flowers you had ever seen in a vase. you didn't even need to read the card to know where they came from.

that day at lunch, a pair of dainty knuckles went up to meet the sleek wood of the door. a flat voice from behind it admitted the person to the room, which they entered and shut the door behind them.

"mr. jeon."

glancing up from the paper in his hands, he met aera's sharp eyes. "aera. what can i do for you?" he asked, turning his attention back down to his work. she moved forward, to sit in one of the sleek leather chairs in front of his desk. "well, you can tell me what you and that little assistant of your have going on, for starters."

looking up, this time with much more intensity than before, he stared into her brown eyes. "what are you talking about?" he demanded. she laughed, as if it were the stupidest question she had ever heard. "don't play dumb. you know exactly what i'm talking about. you and that little puritan that sits outside of your office all day?" she laughed again, "always sending her flowers and that other bullshit. i mean, you're not a stupid man. what could you possibly see in her? she's obviously a prude, obviously inexperienced, and so boring! what a sad excuse for a woman! why keep chasing after that..." she paused, standing up and circling around the desk to where jungkook was sat, seating herself on the arm of the chair, "when you could have...something so much better, and all you have to do is say the word?" she whispered, leaning in close to his ear.

clenching his jaw, jungkook turned his head away from aera. "get out." he seethed, refusing to say anymore than that. she scoffed, standing up and placing her hand on her hip. "i--you cannot be serious. don't be shy, sir, i know you want this. all you have to do is tell me yes."

"okay, well, i'm telling you to get out, before i call the front desk and have you escorted out, by security." he boomed, standing up from his chair, sending it flying into the shelf behind him, "and don't bother coming back. not today, not tomorrow, not next week. just pack your shit and leave."

mouth agape, and standing there awkwardly until jungkook motioned for her to get out, aera stormed out, heels thumping on the floor. "unbelievable. un-fucking-believable!" she shouted, slamming the door behind her as she left. she stormed past your desk and as she walked by, spat "he's yours, you little bitch."

confused, you watched her back disappear down the corridor and into her office, where she noisily started slamming things around. jungkook came out of his office, rushing to your desk as he heard her shout at you. her obnoxious throwing and swearing could be heard as she grabbed all her belongings and left out of the back entrance.

looking at jungkook, with whom you were still not totally comfortable with, he patted your shoulder softly as he talked to you. "are you alright? i don't know what her problem is. did she do anything to you?' he asked. after assuring him you were okay, he went back into his office. you wondered all afternoon what she meant by "he's yours".

ever since the night you had caught him all stressed out, he seemed to be different. like he held a higher respect for you now. instead of passing by you by grabbing your waist, he politely excused himself. instead of extending conversations about nothing, he asked you genuine questions, and replied with interested answers. as for the gifts...they didn't really stop. but his shift in behavior was nice, you appreciated the new high regard he held you in.

as for jungkook, he had stopped looking at you like a piece of ass. he didn't see you like that anymore. see, it wasn't the first time he had been asked if he was alright by a woman. it had happened plenty of times. it also wasn't the first time he had answered with that exact thing: the fear of not living up to what he needed to be, that ate away at him every single day. but it was the first time he had gotten an actual response. not a one-word answer, not an 'oh', not a subject change. an actual response, with substance and meaning. it was weird, such a small action was the most heard and seen he had ever felt in his whole life. furthermore, it inspired hope, something that he had long given up on. and it was fucking euphoric.

needless to say, he was smitten. maybe it was destiny, or maybe his standards were just low. either way, he had never felt this way for anyone before, and couldn't imagine feeling it for anyone else. so naturally, he didn't take too kindly to someone coming in and disrespecting you like that, much less one of your closest friends! through his anger, he couldn't help but wonder, why? was she jealous, because she knew that an ugly beast hid behind her mask, and there was no changing it? or was she just that shallow?

whatever her reasons, jungkook didn't really care. all he knew is that she was a problem, one that took priority over any other issue he had. she needed to be gone, not just from the company, but from society. your heart was too golden, too shiny and beautiful to float around, unprotected from the tarnish of others.

oh, you. what would happen with you? it was already decided, at least, in his mind, that you were his and he was yours. it was that simple. you just didn't know yet. that wasn't what the issue was here. you would no doubt be upset over the tragic loss of your best friend, but who would hold you as you cried? who would hug you as you struggled to fall asleep? who would be there for you in your hour of need? jungkook would, obviously. the roles in your life were open, the role of boyfriend, best friend, provider. and he had enough love to fill all of those spots to the max, plus more left over to shower you in, to drown you in. what better person could there be?

the decision was made, he knew what had to happen, and he knew he would get away with it. normally, he didn't like to risk dirtying his hands with anything even remotely like this, but for you, he'd crawl his way through the mud. besides, what harm was there in getting your hands dirty, as long as you washed the muck away?

the news had hit you like a freight train. aera, one of your very best friends, struck while walking on the street late at night, by a drunk driver. how awful! and just that day, she had gotten into a conflict at work...the poor girl. she was so young, too. she had so much going for her, so much to wait for in life.

putting on your nicest black outfit, combing your hair out, and grabbing your plain black umbrella, you parked your car on the road across from the cemetery. your umbrella came in handy, as it was a grey day, rain drizzling from the sky, almost like God was crying right along with you. faces, familiar and not, all flooded to the open grave.

looking around, you recognized a few coworkers, and most notable, jungkook. he had on a black suit, one that looked nicer than his everyday ones, and was standing around with a few people. he didn't look like he was sad, but more solemn. like he was only there because it was the right thing to do.

you shied away from the crowd, preferring to stick to yourself and process the loss on your own. you visited the casket, which had the lid shut up tight, and you just stood there for a minute. memories of aera flooded your mind, from the first cheerful greeting she gave you to the final words she hurled at you as she stormed away. who knew that would be the last time you ever saw each other?

as you mourned, you felt a hand snake around your waist, rubbing your side gently. "hey, [name]. how are you holding up?" jungkook asked quietly, leaning into your ear as he did so. you shook your head. "i'm fine, it's just..so shocking. i mean, we just saw her." you said, not totally believing the words that left your own mouth.

he nodded. "mmh, i get that. it's horrifying, isn't it? absolutely..horrifying." he said, looking down at the polished brown casket and the spread of flowers that sat on top of it. "hey, you've been standing in the rain for a while. aren't you cold? here, take this." he offered, taking the soft suit jacket off and hanging it over your shoulders. "how about we go sit down? the service is going to start soon." he said, carefully leading you to two chairs underneath the tent, away from the cold drops of rain that were hitting your skin.

you thanked him quietly, and before you could do anymore, the service started. the array of speeches and memories shared in aera's honor brought tears to your eyes, and you couldn't help the few that rolled down your cheeks. the whole time, jungkook kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, at some points even pulling you closer to him and almost cradling you in his arms. admittedly, it was nice to have someone there for you as you hurt, even if it was him.

the service ended, seemingly as quickly as it started. the crowd dispersed, some going up to say their final goodbye to aera. you and your fragile heart couldn't bear to do it, not again, and after leaving jungkook's suit jacket on your chair, you slowly started to make your way back to the car, wiping your tears on your hands as you did so.

"[name]!" you heard a familiar voice call. turning around, jungkook, suit jacket in hand, walked swiftly towards you, arm outstretched. "come on. i'll take you home." he said, reaching to grab your shoulder. you shook your head. "thank you, but my car's parked here. and thanks for the jacket. i'll see you at work." you replied, trying to turn and leave.

"i don't think you should be driving. you know, with...everything. your mind is foggy. it's dangerous to drive like that. come on, i promise i don't mind." he pleaded, a desperate look crossing his features. hesitantly, you obliged with his request, and he wrapped his arm around you once again as you walked to his fancy car. some heads turned, and there were some whispers, and your face burned because of it, but jungkook didn't seem to notice.

his car was nice, and undoubtedly expensive. with only two seats, it looked like something a movie star would zoom up to a party with. getting in, and buckling your seatbelt, you heard the door locks click, and as the car started up, you felt your grief fire up again, but this time, it manifested in your stomach, specifically, a pit feeling, similar to nerves.

"don't you need my address?" you asked him as he took off down the road. "i have your address already." he said, "you know, from employee records." he clarified, smiling at you innocently. there wasn't much conversation. only the sounds of the asphalt beneath you and the feelings of devastation at aera's death heightening in your stomach, now giving you sweaty palms and a racing heart. all you needed was to get home, to your shower, your pajamas, and your bed.

it was only after jungkook drove past your road that you realized the feeling in your stomach might be a bit more than pure grief. "sorry, but you drove past my road." you informed him. he shook his head. "no, [name]. we're not going there. i have something i need to tell you, and i really need you to stay calm, because it'll make it a whole lot easier for you. got that?" he asked, putting his hand on your thigh and making mindless patterns with his thumb.

"what are you talking about? i'd really just like to go back home, jungkook, my house. please." you beseeched. he shook his head again. "listen to me, baby, just listen, yeah? you are going home--well, not your home, but we're going to our home. sound good? i don't want you to worry. i know this is weird, but i promise, you'll love it. okay? stay calm, for me." he explained, slowly, as if you were a child. tears welled up in your eyes all over again. "but why? i don't want to!" you cried.

"why? why do you think, darling, because i'm bored?" he chuckled at his own sick joke, "because, i love you. and i'm the only one you have, now that aera's gone. i know you're sad about that, but trust me, it was for the best. if you heard what she said, you would hit the floor, baby." he said, he laughed at it, as if it were some type of hilarious joke.

it didn't take a genius to figure out what he was implying. disgusted, you froze in your seat, breath catching in your throat. "you...don't tell me...you did that..to her?" you choked out, barely able to annunciate the words. he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "what can i say? she wasn't good for you, darling, that's what you need to understand. she was such a hateful person. she deserved it." he assured you, voice calm and even.

vision blurring, whether it was from the tears or dizziness, you weren't sure, but you clawed at the handle of his car. "let me out. right now. just let me go, and i won't tell anyone. please." you begged, desperately looking around for anything to help you. suddenly, you felt the car stop abruptly in the middle of the road. jungkook leaned over, hand unmoving from your thigh, and spoke directly into your ear. "try to get out of this car again, and so help me god, i will not hesitate to do to the both of us what i did to aera. you wouldn't want that, would you, sweetheart?" he asked, voice sweet and innocent, as he leaned back, and even had the audacity to give you a kiss on the cheek and smile at you as he did so.

slowly, you sat back in your seat, hands folded in your lap. as much as you wanted to, you had no doubt that jungkook would run the both of you off the road if you tried anything else stupid. your ideas for escape started diminishing as more and more trees and fields filled your vision, and the buildings of the city faded away.

"listen to me. i got us a beautiful house in the country. it's huge, and we have anything and everything you could ever want. i'll keep on going to work, and all you have to do is stay home, and wait for me. okay? be there for me when i get home. spend time with me. be my wife. and whatever happens, happens." he told you sternly. "you know, [name], i think you were right. we have so much life left to live, both of us. we have decades left. and what better way to spend it,

than just the two of us, together?"

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #asks

[janaispunk]

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

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#fic: wildest dreams #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york smut #pedrostories #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dbf!dave york

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)

release date: april 17th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist

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Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

...

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