#do i particularly like these friends? nah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adiraargent · 4 months

Text

Kiss Me Again - Mattheo Riddle

Request: heyy oh my God I seriously love your work, could you do one where they are best friends but like each other and won't confess but one day they both realise they are in love wc: 4.2k warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing Summary: you and Mattheo have been friends since the beginning of school, the two of you like each other but neither wants to admit it, scared that it would damage your relationship. The two of you decide to take a break from studying and sneak around Hogwarts and then one thing leads to another...

Mattheo Riddle, he had been your best friend for pretty much as long as you can remember. You grew up together, helped eachother threw everything, stuck by each others sides. You were fortunate to have most of your classes together, and even outside of class the two of you hung out.

You had the same friends, got pretty much the same grades and had very similar hobbies... it was rare to see one without the other.

The Hogwarts library stood as a citadel of tranquility, a bastion of wisdom and knowledge amidst the bustling halls of Hogwarts. Right now, you and Mattheo Riddle found yourselves engrossed in your studies, the air thick with the scent of parchment and the soft murmur of whispered incantations.

Seated side by side at a wooden table tucked amidst towering shelves, you and Mattheo immersed yourselves in textbooks and scrolls, the task at hand a mere facade for the unspoken emotions that danced between you.

Mattheo’s voice cut through the silence, "You alright, you've been pretty quiet for a while?"

You shot him a playful glare, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well we are in the library Mattheo, we're meant to be quiet."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips, "yeah well you practically never shut up," a small laugh falling from his lips. This of course earnt him an eye roll, which he caught onto, yet he somehow managed to miss the little sparkle that glinted in your eye as you looked at his smiling face.

You sat there for a while, occasionally bickering or leaning over to ask for help when getting stuck on something, but due to exams coming up in only a few days, the two of you understood that you had to try your best to stay on task. Textbooks sprawled open, parchment filled with notes, and a shared determination to conquer the complexities of magical theory.

"Have you seen this spell?" you queried, pointing to a particularly intricate incantation in your book. You had been looking at it for the past 10 minutes or so, waving your wand around trying to get the right movement, but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, it just wasnt working how you wanted it to.

Mattheo leaned closer, his presence enveloping you in a warmth that sparked an indescribable sensation. You felt the hairs on your arm stick up, a warm feeling flushing in your chest as he leaned over your shoulder. "Ah, that one’s tricky. Let me show you a more efficient way to cast it."

His nearness sent a flutter through your senses, a magnetic pull that threatened to unravel the careful veil hiding the unspoken desires within. He reached over, his hand landing on top of yours and guiding your hand smoothly, "there you are, easy peasy."

"Thanks..." you murmured out, finally taking a breath as he leant back away from you.

As the sun dipped lower, signaling the arrival of evening, you and Mattheo began to gather your belongings. The unspoken feelings simmered beneath the layers of laughter and stolen glances, a silent understanding that bound your hearts in a dance of friendship and concealed affection.

Mattheo broke the tranquil silence, his voice softer than usual. "The library is closing soon, we should continue this in my dorm. You should head back to your dorm and get in something more comfy then come over"

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, ok are the boys in the dorm?"

"Nah Jasper and Theodore are over in Lorenzo's dorm and Draco is with Blaise," Mattheo replied, his gaze holding a depth that hinted at more than mere friendship as he packed his books, "so it'll be just us."

"Cool, see ya soon," you grinned widely, brushing your hair behind your ear unconciously.

After getting changed into something more comfortablein your dorm and a fresh spritz of purfume on you began your walk back to Mattheo's dorm (I'm trying my best to make it so it doesnt matter what house you are in so sorry if it's a little confusing). You couldnt help it as your mind trailed off to Mattheo. You knew you shouldnt be feeling this way, but you couldnt help it... this is wrong, he's my best friend.

He was more than that though, he was an important aspect in your life, and you couldnt imagine life without him.He’s always had your back and stood up for you. He's defended you against teachers and students, he's protected you from the dark horrors that come with being born to Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle, growing up in Malfoy Manor.

You were well aware of the fact that you've liked him for a while now, just a small girl crush... but lately its only seemed to get worse. You’ve caught yourself staring at him frequently, admiring his brown curls and earthy eyes, you've tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of butterflies that you get every time he laughs, or the tingling sting that you get whenever your skin comes in contact with his.

In the embrace of his hug, you find solace, pressed snugly against the contours of his toned chest. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat against your skin forms an intimate symphony, a melody that soothes your very core, making you feel inexplicably safe.

His gentle touch, brushing away a stray tendril of hair from your face, sends a wave of warmth coursing through you. It's a tender gesture that beckons you to close your eyes and surrender to the comforting sensation of his fingers against your skin.

As his hand encircles your waist, drawing you nearer, an undeniable sense of belonging washes over you. In that moment, with Mattheos’s touch securing you, it feels like the perfect fit—your bodies in sync, entwined in a moment that feels destined.

The yearning for more intensifies, an undeniable craving for closeness, for the electrifying sensation of his touch. It's a desire that lingers, urging you to lean into the embrace, to savor every shared moment with Mattheo, wishing for an eternity in his arms

Shit I sound crazy you rolled your eyes at yourself, shaking the thoughts off and continuing your walk.

What you didnt know was that Mattheo had felt the same way. You didnt notice how he had started sitting even closer to you now, or the fact that he was constantly trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch you. You didnt notice the way he would put his hand on your back and lead you threw the halls when there were lots of people, or how if you were ever close to hitting your head on the corner of a cupboard or desk he would reach over and cover the surface with his hand.

Once you finally get to the door of his dorm, you knock a few times before pushing the door open, walking in to find Mattheo on the bed. "Hey Theo," you grumbled, dropping your bag to the ground and then jumping on the bed next to him with a tired sigh.

"Hey love."

“come on, you've got it, just try it a few more times and it'll be perfect”, Mattheo says from his desk, his chair rolling around to face you where you were lying on his bed, books laying around you.

“I cant do it Theo”, you sigh loudly, throwing your head back dramatically, “it's a stupid spell and I probably wont even use it after we leave school so why the hell do we even have to learn it.”

“Quit whining”, Mattheo replies, laughing whilst shaking his head, "it's not even that hard."

“It's not fair, why does an idiot like you get to be so smart without even trying”, you pout softly, pulling yourself up in a sitting position.

Mattheo's insistence on revisiting the notes for the umpteenth time made you almost desperate. You were tired and this was beginning to get frustrating, you hated it when you werent good at something. You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak up. "Please, Theo. I understand that good grades mean everything to you and how pressured you are with all of this, but I'm seriously starting to go out of my mind. I have hardly slept and this is giving me a really bad headache."

His silence made you nervous; you hadn't intended to come across so harshly. Mattheo seemed absorbed in his thoughts, clearly thinking about what to say or do. He understood that you were tired, the two of you, along with much of your grade had been waking up early and going to sleep late for the last few weeks in order to study for the exams. But this was all important, the two of you planned to become Aurors together when you left school, and you needed really good grades for that.

You bit your lip, grappling with your impatience. "Matth-"

A frustrated sigh escaped Mattheo's lips. You felt guilty, you knew why he tried so hard for his grades. He didnt want to turn out like his mother and father and the people around him at home, he wanted to do good. He needed good grades to help him escape.

Meeting his gaze, you found his intense brown eyes locked onto yours. "I apologize. You're right," he admitted, raking his hand through his brunette curls, your eyes went wide in shock, you hadnt actually expected him to agree with you, and you definietly didnt think that the next words would fall out of his lips, "hell it might even be a good idea for me to have a break, i'm tired too-"

Mattheo stood up, shutting his books and then stumbling over to the bed, a goofy smile on his face as he stuck his hand out in your direction. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, not exactly sure where he was going with this. When you said that the two of you needed to take a break, you just thought that the two of you would just chill and talk for a while, maybe lay down for a bit.

"Up ya hop," he beckoned, making a grabby motion with his hands a few times before sticking his open palm closer to your face, "move it or lose it mate," he continues. You raise your brows at him, hesitating before carefully reaching out to take his hand

Should I grab his hand?

"Merlin," Mattheo groaned, rolling his eyes before just grabbing her hand and then tugging her off the bed

"Hey asshole!" you complained, glaring up at him as he tugged you towards the door of his dorm, grabbing a jumper that was hanging over the back of his desk chair.

"Dont blame me, if we sat around here waiting for you to make up your mind then we'd be waiting till christmas," Mattheo complained sarcastically, pulling her down the hall and towards the main part of the common room.

As Mattheo dragged you along, you stumbled to keep up with his brisk pace, shooting him an annoyed glare. "Seriously, where are we going?" you demanded, trying to slow his progress by digging your heels into the floor.

But Mattheo seemed determined, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just trust me," he said with a smirk, not offering any further explanation.

You let out an exasperated sigh but relented, deciding to go along with whatever crazy idea he had in mind. You allowed him to tug you through the common room and out into the crisp evening air of the halls of the castle. It was late at night and since they were in the dungeons, it was freezing. There were no students anywhere, and the teachers were also more than likely in bed.

"Wait, Mattheo, it's freezing out here!" you protested, shivering as a gust of wind swept by, making you regret not grabbing a jacket.

He chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the cold. "Don't worry, I've got you covered," he assured, reaching for the jumper he had grabbed earlier. With a grin, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting.

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling a bit guilty for calling him an asshole just moments ago.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo resumed his course, leading you through the halls. Mattheo glanced around the halls, noticing the dimly lit corners and hidden alcoves. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in and whispered, "I've heard rumors about secret passages hidden within the castle. Wanna go on a little exploration?"

Your curiosity piqued at the mention of secret passages. Nodding eagerly, you followed Mattheo as he led the way, navigating through the deserted corridors of the castle. Shadows danced on the walls, and the quiet of the night added an eerie yet thrilling atmosphere to your adventure.

Stopping in front of an intricately designed tapestry depicting a hunting scene, Mattheo grinned. "This is it," he whispered excitedly, pulling on a loose thread near the edge of the tapestry.

To your amazement, the tapestry shifted, revealing a concealed entrance behind it. Mattheo gestured for you to follow as he stepped through the hidden doorway. The passage was dimly lit by flickering torches, the air cool and musty.

You trailed behind Mattheo as you ventured deeper into the hidden corridors. The passages twisted and turned, leading you through a labyrinthine network beneath the castle. Dusty tomes and forgotten artifacts lined shelves carved into the stone walls, hinting at the secrets hidden within.

Occasionally, you stumbled upon locked doors or dead ends, but Mattheo's enthusiasm never waned. He seemed to have a natural talent for navigating the hidden passages, leading you further into the mysterious depths of the castle.

After what felt like an exhilarating journey through time and history, you stumbled upon a chamber bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. In the center stood an ancient-looking pedestal with a book resting upon it, emitting a faint shimmer.

"Is that...?" you started, your voice barely a whisper as you glanced at Mattheo, both of you captivated by the enigmatic sight before you.

Mattheo nodded in awe, his eyes reflecting the soft light. "I heard that there used to be this Ancient magic around Hogwarts that only a select few could see and use... apparently a goblin called Ranrok or something tried to gain control of that power but was stopped by a Hogwarts student who could see and use the magic, this is supposed to be her diary or something, there could be some cool stuff in there," he murmured, approaching the pedestal with caution.

You joined him, the book's pages radiating an otherworldly aura. As you reached out to touch it, a distant sound echoed through the chamber—a faint rattling followed by the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps.

Startled, you exchanged a quick glance with Mattheo before hastily retreating back into the hidden passages, leaving the mysterious book untouched. Heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline, you navigated the twisting corridors, making your way back to the safety of the castle's main corridors.

Breathless and exhilarated, you both burst into laughter as you emerged from the hidden entrance, relieved to have escaped without detection.

Caught up in the thrill of your secret exploration, you and Mattheo leaned against the castle wall, trying to catch your breath. The rush of adrenaline and the shared excitement created a bond between you that felt unbreakable.

As you exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken promise of more adventures lingered in the air, filling you both with a sense of anticipation for the mysteries yet to be unraveled within the castle's hidden passages.

"Students out of bed!" They suddenly hear, their eyes widening at the familiar voice or Filch. They turned their heads to look down the corridor, a small hint of light making its way closer from one of the corners further down

"Oh shit!" Mattheo whispered, grabbing your hand and then yanking you through the halls once again.

"You can run but you cant hide!"

"Ouch Mattheo! You're gonna rip my fucking arm off you pri-"

Mattheo had grabbed you around the waist and thrown you over his shoulder. A small 'hmph' falling from your lips at the rough impact of his shoulder digging into your stomach. "Theo that hurts!" you whisper yell, smaking him softly on the back as he continues to run, Filch on your tail.

Mattheo quickly turns the corner and then pulls you both into a cupboard, slamming the door shut behind you both and putting you on the ground in front of him, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, a few small beads of sweat trickling down his forhead.

Mattheo let out an annoyed groan, "Fuck that was cl-"

You slap your hand over his mouth with one hand, using your free hand to put your finger up to your lips, telling him to shush before leaning your head against the door, trying to listen to whatever was going on outside, praying to god that Filch wasnt going to find you.

The footsteps outside grew louder, the sound of keys jingling and muttering becoming clearer. Filch's voice pierced through the silence, his grumbling indicating his frustration at not finding the mischievous students.

Mattheo's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes wide with anticipation and a hint of nervous excitement. You pressed against the door, your heart racing in sync with the rapid beat of footsteps passing by the cupboard's hiding spot.

Silence descended upon the corridor, broken only by the distant echoes of Filch's fading voice as he continued his search elsewhere. Mattheo let out a relieved exhale, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back against the cupboard.

"Phew," he whispered, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shot him a playful glare, still catching your breath from being carried over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Warn me before you decide to play hero next time," you teased, trying to suppress a giggle.

Mattheo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry about that, had to think fast. You know how Filch is, always lurking around looking for cool kids like me."

"I think you mean dumbasses," you shot back jokingly

"Well you're out here too arent you?" he fired, a raised eyebrow paired with a smirk on his handsome face

"Hush," you grinned.

"Merlin im buggered," Mattheo yawned. Mattheo flashed you a grin, his eyes alight with excitement. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the thrill of the chase mixing with the shared relief at narrowly avoiding getting caught. "Definitely an adventure I won't forget anytime soon," you replied, still catching your breath.

You nodded in agreement, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the near encounter. The adrenaline rush began to fade, you went to open the door, pushing on it, but it didnt seem to budge.

“It won’t open.” You mumbled out, trying to push the door again

“What?” Mattheo asked, his breathing starting to go back to normal

“It won’t open.” you repeated with a frown as you pushed against the door yet again, but the hardwood didn’t budge.

"Yeah right," Mattheo muttered out, going to push the door thinking that maybe you just werent pushing it hard enough, "what the hell..."

“It’s…not so bad. It is probably just jammed or something — do you have your wand?.”

The realization that the door wouldn't budge sent a jolt of unease through both of you. Mattheo reached into his pocket, rummaging around for his wand, but his expression turned to one of dismay.

"Damn it, I left it back in the dorm room," he muttered, a tinge of worry edging into his voice. "But don't worry, its only a few more hours till everyone is up so someone will find us soon, and until then we can just chill or try and get the door open"

"This isn't good," you murmured, trying to keep your tone steady despite the rising worry in your chest.

The night was not supposed to go like this.

Heat sweltered between them, and not only because of the walls encasing them on every side, and the small space plus their added body heat, but the fact that they were so close together.

“Stop moving.” Mattheo mumbled as he looked up at the ceiling, his cheeks pink as he forced himself to look away from her, trying his best to stay calm and not freak out from the close proximity

"Sorry," you muttered, but once again shuffled unconsciously, the nerves taking over you as you grew more and more anxious, you didnt do well with small spaces, you were tired, and you were chest to chest with the boy you cared for more than anyone else

"Y/n." Mattheo grumbled sternly

“I can’t help it!” You responded anxiously. “Im tired and my legs are so sore, theres rat shit on the ground so I cant sit down, and I'm fucking cold Mattheo,” She pounded on the door, no longer caring if they got in trouble from the teachers, she just wanted to get out of there

“Hey, hey, you've just gotta stay calm okay, its alright!” Mattheo said softly, realising just how much she was beginning to freak out.

The cramped space amplified the tension between you, a mix of frustration, anxiety, and the unspoken feelings lingering in the air. Mattheo's attempts to keep the atmosphere calm were admirable, but the situation tested both your patience and composure.

"I know, I know," you muttered, attempting to steady your breathing. "I'm just... I'm not good with this. It's too much."

Mattheo's eyes softened with understanding, his usual mischievous demeanor giving way to a more caring expression. He reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay. We'll get through this," he said, his voice calming, though the unease lingered in his own words, "im here okay, you're okay."

You looked up at him, gazing into his brown eyes. He gave you a small smile

Damn it, theres that stupid feeling again.

His smile was then replaced with an unreadable expression. "You okay?" you muttered, confused by his atttitude change

Mattheo's eyes lingered on you, an unspoken question reflecting in their depths. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Your heart raced, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. "About what?"

"I uh... nah its stupid," he muttered, shaking his head, looking annoyed with himself

"It isnt stupid Theo, you can tell me, I wont judge you," you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He hesitated, "well its about..." his usual confidence faltering as he looked away, his words carrying a raw vulnerability. "About us... about our friendship."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart beating a frantic rhythm. "What about it?"

"We've been dancing around something," Mattheo confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "something we've both been too scared to acknowledge."

Your breath hitched, the gravity of the moment sinking in as your gazes met, an unspoken understanding passing between you.

"I've been... feeling things," Mattheo admitted, his voice trembling slightly, "things that I've been too afraid to voice."

Your eyes softened, your vulnerability mirroring his own. "I know. Me too."

Even the cupboard seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your shared revelations hanging in the air. In that moment of quiet confession, the unspoken words that had lingered between you for so long found their voice, weaving a tapestry of emotions that had been hidden away.

With hearts laid bare and emotions laid bare, the unspoken became spoken, and the unacknowledged became understood. Love, so long restrained by the fear of losing a cherished friendship, now flowed freely between you, binding you in a bond deeper than friendship.

Your eyes widened slightly as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. "Mattheo..."

Are we moving too fast?

"Can I kiss you?" Mattheo asked softly, a pleading tone in his voice as he anxiously knibbled on the inside of his cheek. His anxiety wasnt soothed as you stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that all of this was actually happening.

He went to pull away, his cheeks flushing in embarassment, "I uh, you know... joking... just jo-"

You cut him off, pushing your lips against his, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened, his breath getting caught in his throat but he quickly regained composure, pulling you against his chest firmly as he kissed you deeper.

The two of you pulls away for a second, wide, giddy grins on your faces as you looked into eachothers eyes for a few seconds before leaning forwards again, your lips moulding together perfectly. The kiss became heated, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands cupping your face, his thumbs rubbing against your skin softly. You stood up on your tippy toes, leaning into him even more.

You were the first one to pull away, looking up at Mattheo whose eyes remained closed for a few more moments, basking in the taste and feel of your soft lips. You smile widely, his smile matching yours as his eyes flutter open. His left thumb moves from your cheek to your lip, rubbing it softly.

You look up into his eyes and you see it.

Love.

"Kiss me again?" he whispered

"Only if you say please," you joke, leaning forward once more.

Credit to adiraargent. Please do not copy or repost anywhere. Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to leave a request :p

Wattpad: adira_argent

793 notes · View notes

usedpidemo · 6 months

Text

Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)

(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)

You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:

> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)

> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:

> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved

> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet

> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh

> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun

> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:

> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo

So of course, you chime in as well.

> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams

You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:

> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?

> You: Next week, why?

> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck

> You: You’re in Korea?

> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be?

> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad

> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ

Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.

> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry

> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today

Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.

> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it

You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather.

It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.

> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen

> You: Happy now?

> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am

> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight

> yerimiese: goodnight

> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:

—————

The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.

> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:

It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.

Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.

Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you.

Almost.

An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself.

> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ

> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?

> You: About 13 hours

> yerimiese: cali?

> You: Yes

> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles

> You: How come?

> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you

> You: does she know about this?

> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.

> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!

> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard

> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god

> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL

> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…

> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??

> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime

> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer

> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’re in a hotel?

> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?

> You: Sure

—————

It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand.

It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts.

And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.

Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.

“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.

Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.

Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen.

“Shit.”

She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

—————

Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.

And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.

By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.

And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes.

Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.

When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.

At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.

> You: Just got out of immigration

> yerimiese: fuckin finally!

> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?

> You: Not yet

> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here

Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.

> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P

And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.

Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point.

And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.

Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.

And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again.

You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.

Like the very first time.

Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.

Well, this is awkward.

Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.

Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”

In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through.

She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.

“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”

“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”

—————

The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.

Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better.

Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.

But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.

When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.

You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.

You wonder if she feels the same way about you.

“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.

“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”

“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”

“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.

“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”

“Are your members used to this?”

That didn’t come out right.

She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right.

“Used to what?”

“Well, uh, I—I mean—”

You gulp your throat.

“Stop.”

Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.

“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”

—————

It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.

You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new.

This is different.

“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”

Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.

“What?”

Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape.

You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!”

If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places.

Surely the signs of virginity were right there.

“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her.

It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.

It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.

“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.

She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.

To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy.

“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”

Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene.

She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:

“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart.

“Let me be your personal titty towel.”

Halfway there.

“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”

Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.

You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer.

Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.

She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.

Then, she begins moaning.

Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more.

It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.

You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.”

In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.

By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.

You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”

You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige.

Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.

The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over.

While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you.

“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.

“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”

It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”

“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”

And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve.

In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:

“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”

“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”

“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”

You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”

To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices.

“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”

“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.

“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”

You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.

“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”

And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it.

You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.

“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”

“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.

You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.

Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.

“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.”

Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.

Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.

“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.”

Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.

“Cum for me.”

You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.

“Yerim, I—”

The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless.

In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window.

“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste.

After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.

There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark.

“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”

You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:

“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”

—————

(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

#smut #kpop smut #yeri #red velvet

683 notes · View notes

littlespoonevan · 21 days

Note

If you are looking for prompts.... Eddie and Tommy realising they unintentionally excluded Buck ?

ohohoho this was fun to write but Sad also bc eddie is clearly thinking one thing and tommy is clearly thinking many things and buck is off in his loft thinking many, Many things but i hope you like it, friend 💛

Eddie hobbles over to his couch with Tommy’s help.

“There you go, man,” Tommy says as he gets Eddie situated on the cushion. “You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Eddie replies, waving a hand. “There’s beer in the fridge though; help yourself.”

Tommy doesn’t take him up on the offer, instead moving to sit on the coffee table next to where Eddie’s propped up his injured leg.

“So, uh, Buck can get pretty competitive?” He says it like a question, nodding to Eddie’s wrapped ankle as if in proof and it’s, well-

“No, actually,” Eddie says, and he feels…stuck between a long-ingrained need to defend Buck and confusion as to how they ended up here in the first place.

Because this isn’t like Buck. Because Buck usually spends his every waking minute actively trying to keep Eddie out of harm’s way. He sure as hell is never the cause. And Eddie knows he didn’t mean to, is the thing. But just calling it a simple accident doesn’t feel quite right either.

“I don’t-” he starts and then reconsiders what he’d planned to say. “Honestly, Buck’s been a little off this week so I think…”

He trails off. It feels weird talking about Buck with someone who isn’t close to them, who doesn’t just implicitly gets all the intricate mental gymnastics behind Buck’s every action.

Then again, Eddie’s not sure if anyone is actually as adept at figuring out how Buck gets from A to Z as he is.

“Is it because of me?” Tommy asks and he looks genuinely concerned.

Eddie replays every conversation he’s had with Buck this past week – every too bright smile Buck flashed him, every enthusiastic assertion that he thought it was great Eddie had a new friend – and then he, inexplicably, thinks about when he first joined the 118 and some things slot into place.

“I think he was maybe a little worried,” Eddie allows. “That I was replacing him with you.”

Tommy’s eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep of the living room and the multiple photo frames of him, Buck and Christopher on the mantel and the side table before he looks back to Eddie. “Is that even possible?”

Eddie shakes his head, letting out a laugh. “I mean, no. Obviously. But Buck just- sometimes he needs reminding how much he means to people.”

Guilt settles between his ribs then. He’s been too distracted this week, too excited about having someone he had so much in common with around to talk to. If he’d taken half a second to look a little closer he would’ve realised Buck was spiralling.

“I should’ve spoken to him,” he sighs. “Reassured him that we weren’t trying to exclude him.”

Tommy frowns. “You really think that’s how he felt? I thought you said he never wanted to play basketball when you asked?”

“I think it was more than just the basketball,” Eddie says, wincing – the memory of him asking Buck to babysit instead of coming to the bar with them feels particularly bad.

Tommy nods slowly, mind clearly working. He’s quiet for so long Eddie thinks about telling him not to worry about it, that he’ll deal with it, but then-

“Why don’t I go talk to him?” he suggests, confident and sure. “Clear the air? I don’t want him to think I’m trying to get in the middle of you two.”

It takes Eddie by surprise. There’s a strangely defensive part of him that wants to say he and Buck don’t need anyone to mend their fences for them but he shoves the thought aside and reminds himself that’s not what Tommy means. Buck had sought Tommy out too last week and they’d seemed to get along. Maybe Tommy wants to clear the air for his own sake.

So he says, “Yeah,” probably a few seconds too late and makes himself smile. “Normally I’d be the one driving to his house and forcing him to talk. But I guess I’m kind of out of commission right now.”

He nods at his foot and Tommy laughs, pushing himself up off the couch to stand. “Well, hey, I’ll be sure to pass on your regards.”

“Thanks,” Eddie snorts.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder as he rounds the couch. “Don’t forget to take those pain pills, man. I’ll let you know how things go with Evan.”

He calls the rest of his sentence over his shoulder as he heads for the door and Eddie manages a half-hearted, “Will do,” as he hears the click of the latch.

And he feels…how Buck has felt all week, probably. Confused and irritated and a little possessive. Like Tommy’s stealing his job. As if Eddie hadn’t just told him it was fine. As if Eddie could even make it over to Buck’s place right now. At least he managed to hold back the petty, “His name is Buck,” that had immediately rose up in his throat as soon as Tommy had called him Evan.

Shaking his head, he reaches for the paper bag with his prescription that Tommy had left on the coffee table.

He’ll talk to Buck tomorrow and everything will be fine.

#my fics #7x04 #911 related #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #buddie #or like buddie adjacent #also bucktommy adjacent #asks #anon

268 notes · View notes

impishjesters · 6 months

Text

Agents of Cat-astrophe

warning(s): none unless you count Jax note(s): This gave me a good chuckle as someone who's consistently dropping more curse words than regular words, I'd imagine the system to just censor anything and everything that comes out of my mouth at that point. A/N: (In response to the requester) I wish I was taking breaks (I mean I am sorta), I'm fully aware I'm running myself ragged right now. But it's hard for me to stop myself... I'm caffeinated and chaotic and I don't wanna stew in my brain for too long. At least I get up and stretch every now and then. Request: Anyways, I’m requesting a Jax x reader (crushing stage) where the reader is sorta at the same level of meanness as Jax and likes to do pranks with him on the other characters. Also the reader’s digital form is a short cat that at first glance makes them look nice/friendly (obviously not an actual cat but yk what I mean), and they have a sailor’s mouth that is unfortunately censored but that doesn’t stop them (can also purr and does so when they’re content which is usually when there chilling in Jax’s room or with Jax in general). I think it would be fun if the reader surprisingly was sorta nicer to Kinger and has a small soft spot for him and does more playful pranks on him than mean/harmful ones.

When you first showed up, you looked so small and frail, like a literal little kitten completely out of place in this big colourful nightmare world

Ragatha thought you’d be like Pomni, and boy howdy was she wrong

You just ended up being another Jax—who you later met and found out was also an agent of chaos

Similarly to Pomni you cursed up a storm when you first arrived and the endless censorship that came with it

You have a knack for testing Caine’s patience when it comes to your sailor’s mouth, much to Jax’s entertainment. It’s not every day Caine loses his cool like that and you’re just a newbie, needless to say, you caught his interest

That sailor’s mouth also gets used towards the other’s and Jax won’t lie and say it’s not funny because shit’s hilarious.

Sure they all curse from time to time, but you just laid out an entire sentence that was completely and utterly censored. Like the system said “fuck this I’m gonna censor the whole damn sentence”

Unlike Jax who doesn’t show any remorse for who he pranks or how cruel they are, you draw the line at messing with Kinger.

Okay, that’s a lie you still mess with him but it’s not like how you mess with the others. Kinger has this sweet unstable dad/grandpa vibe and it kind of makes the place more homey in a weird way. (plus that man has been through enough trauma, give him a break, and talk about his bug collections or some shit)

The upside is that his mind is so scattered sometimes that using the same pranks on him always results in something hilarious. So you really don’t need to try for any new material. (he also really needs to consider actually using the lock on his door, he makes it too easy)

Jax considered you his little partner in crime the more time passed—not exactly a friend nah, but like a good ol pal that also likes to partake in joining him and his bullshittery

The first time he hears you purring is when the two of you are lazing about in his room, he’d gotten distracted collecting things for a prank on someone and heard the loudest rumbling coming from behind him

“Are you fucking purring?”

It’s a little embarrassing at first, you’ve uh, never done that before..

Jax has the biggest shit-eating grin, if he wasn’t using dumb cat-themed nicknames before he sure as hell is now

“Oh, like you don’t stomp your feet like a petulant child you overgrown rabbit.”

He does not stomp his fuckin feet like a temperamental rabbit, thank you very much (that’s a fuckin lie if I ever heard one)

Jax already had mixed feelings about you before, nothing particularly bad, just feelings he couldn’t place…that was until the prank…

He doesn’t know how you did it, or how he got so wrapped up in it. But you pranked him, and you pranked him good.

Oh, oh okay that feeling is new… butterflies don’t typically belong inside your gut, now whether Jax has ever experienced a crush before or not is probably beyond him. But these little butterflies are a bitch and it takes awhile of placing two and two together to realize he’s… caught feelings to some degree

You, however, probably had a crush on him for a while, perhaps really noticing it after the whole purring fiasco when you learned that it only happened around Jax

#the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax #tadc

635 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 6 months

Note

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love.

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills.

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections.

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole.

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead.

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you.

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice.

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched.

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned.

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink.

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song.

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him.

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had.

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back.

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that.

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you.

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating.

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.”

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape.

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.”

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic:

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it.

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse.

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes.

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room.

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!”

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff.

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind.

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls.

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing.

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off.

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you.

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you.

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off.

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you.

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away.

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours.

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful.

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you.

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.”

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes.

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head.

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day.

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek.

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess.

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors.

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge.

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle.

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable.

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea.

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you?

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you.

“What if…he gets bored?”

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you.

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent.

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile.

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.”

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder.

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror.

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!”

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!”

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting.

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses.

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face.

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed.

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking visibly annoyed as he continued.

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead.

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin.

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart.

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate.

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own.

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth.

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #big advocate for softie floyd leech #its what he deserves

424 notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 10 months

Note

Hi!! I rlly love your fics and i saw your requests are open so can i request svt with idol reader that gets shipped with another idol that reader is friends with?? Like what would their reaction be I hope this isn’t too much thank youuu !!

idol partner gets shipped with another idol | OT13

I'm SO sorry you had to wait so long for this one, but I've just started my vacation and wanted to take some time off. Still, I hope you enjoy this one <3 !

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

𓆩♡𓆪 CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

As a leader and an idol himself, he’d know that there was nothing he could do about it. Of course, he’d be jealous and very protective of you, but I think for the most part he’d be sad. Sad because HE’S the one you're supposed to be shipped with, HE’S the one that’s supposed to show you off 24/7, HE’S the one who should be allowed to share your adorable face on Weverse with his fans. But in the end, he would be very mature about the situation and keep your relationship as low-key as he could, still showing how much he loves you in every way possible.

𓆩♡𓆪 YOON JEONGHAN

For the most part, Jeonghan wouldn’t really have a problem with you being shipped with other idols - friends or not. He knows that situations like these might occur, so he’s ready for any new headlines with you and someone else's face in it, but it usually never really bothers him. Sometimes, especially if he’s feeling particularly insecure, it might slightly get to him. He will always tell you about it though, he doesn’t want to keep any of his emotional insecurities from you, nor cause any miscommunication that might arise from such a situation.

𓆩♡𓆪 HONG JOSHUA

Does not care. He is very confident in the relationship that you have, he trusts you with his life, so there is no reason for him to be jealous of someone else that you’re getting shipped with. He knows that there is no point in doing so because if he were to focus on silly stuff like shipping he would spend all his energy on that instead of you. So in his mind, let them ship you with whoever they want to because at the end of the day, he’s the one you’re going back to.

𓆩♡𓆪 WEN JUNHUI

In the beginning of your relationship when situations like that happened, he would get a little bit sad and distance himself from you for a while. You’d tell him every single time that he’s the only one that you love and want and that you would never choose anyone else over him. Thanks to your reassurance with time he stopped paying attention to any “shipping news”, realising that they’re a lot of bullshit anyways. It’s not like you’d run away with a random dude from the headline you’ve never even met.

𓆩♡𓆪 KWON SOONYOUNG

Might get a bit insecure and a bit sad. He would try to put on a brave face for you, not wanting to add any more worries for you, knowing that you wouldn’t REALLY leave him. But inside, he couldn't stop the insecurities from getting to him. Every time he’d see any new news with you and another idol, he’d be really torn and full of worry, especially if it was a friend of yours. What if one day you decide that he’s better than him and leave? You’d quickly realise how sad your boyfriend seemed and get him back to his usual self with a lot of reassurance and kisses.

𓆩♡𓆪 JEON WONWOO

Nah, he doesn’t care. He knows that you're his and he’s yours, period. There is no point in dwelling on stuff like that, he knows that it’s bound to happen eventually, both to you and him. Sometimes you’d even laugh about the absurd shipping and dating rumours, finding it hilarious how you could be accused of dating someone you haven’t even met before. If you were shipped with one of your friends, the situation wouldn't be that much different, he’d be just a bit more touchy with you in the presence of your friend, reassuring himself that you weren’t going anywhere.

𓆩♡𓆪 LEE JIHOON

Another one that wouldn't bat an eyelash. Does not care in the slightest. You’re both very confident in the relationship that you have, you trust each other and always talk about any insecurities you have when it comes to your relationship, so there is no reason for him to be jealous of you. Both of you find the rumours hilarious, making some kinds of bets on who's going to be the next person you’d get shipped with. You’d turn these situations into games, making fun of it and not taking it seriously whatsoever.

𓆩♡𓆪 XU MINGHAO

Couldn't care less. He finds the whole “shipping” concept funny, because how can people ship you with someone you just GLANCED at? And you’re supposed to be in love just because you looked at each other? Please. He knows the consequences of your jobs, that you’d get shipped with other idols, so you both had to be ready for any new rumours that were bound to happen. He would be the one to reassure you every time anything happened, that he is IN LOVE with you and nothing could make him leave you.

𓆩♡𓆪 KIM MINGYU

Even though he trusts you COMPLETELY and tries explaining himself that you wouldn’t leave him, he’d get sad and really heartbroken. He’d be pouting every time he’d see any new news of you being shipped with a new idol, getting a bit insecure about himself. He’d try to cover his emotions about the situation around you, trying to be strong and unbothered, but you’d know immediately how he was feeling. You’d baby him and kiss him endlessly, telling him that he’s the only one you love. If you were shipped with an idol friend though, he’d be VERY touchy with you around him, showing him that you were only his.

𓆩♡𓆪 LEE SEOKMIN

Another one that would need a bit of reassurance. In general, he wouldn’t spend that much time focusing on any rumours or scandals that might occur because of shipping, but from time to time he’d need a bit of extra love from you. It happens usually when he’s away on tour or doing promotions when thousands of kilometres are between you two and he can’t be with you in person. He’d try to distance himself, but you’d know immediately what was going on. You’d stay on FaceTime for hours before one of you didn’t fall asleep, and you’d text a lot, more than usual, trying to silently reassure him that he’s it for you.

𓆩♡𓆪 BOO SEUNGKWAN

Soooo dramatic. Wouldn’t be jealous, but a bit angry. Not on you of course, but on the people shipping you with other idols. He knows it’s normal in the field of your work, but non the less, gets so annoyed every single time. He’d walk around your apartment with his phone in his hand and talk his head off, about the edits and photos he’d seen on his feed, bitching on the people that made them. Just because you breathed around another man doesn’t mean you’re in love. In the end, he would still seek a bit of reassurance from you, which you’d happily grant him - kisses and cuddles always brightened his mood.

𓆩♡𓆪 CHWE VERNON

He wouldn’t even know that you were being shipped with anyone. “Babe, did you I’m being shipped with Wonwoo?”. “What? 🧍” Neither of you cared about the rumours, you didn’t even bother checking any headlines or news. Jealousy wasn’t a big thing in your relationship, as you both had a big trust in each other and the communication between both of you was at its finest, so there were no reasons to feel any insecurities or doubts. If you were shipped with any of your friends, you’d just laugh about it, not making it a big deal.

𓆩♡𓆪 LEE CHAN

He would reassure you that he didn’t care every time you’d get shipped with other idols, but you knew he was actually sad about it (as if the big pout on his face wasn’t the biggest giveaway). You would give him a lot of kisses, telling him again and again that he was the only one you loved. Then, when all of his doubts were gone, he’d laugh with you about the situation. You’d probably go on TikTok and make fun of all of the absurd edits of you and the person you got shipped with. Even when you were sure he wasn’t feeling bad about it anymore, you’d give him some extra kisses, just in case.

834 notes · View notes

salemoleander · 1 year

Text

"My teeth hurt," Martyn says.

He and Scott are on the deck, enjoying the morning sun before it has the chance to get humid; Scott is busy crafting sugarcane into paper while Martyn is (ostensibly) trying to carve a bowl.

"What, like- cavities? We've only been here for a few days, and I know you're eating the same fish and dried kelp as me." Scott pauses, holding a fresh sheaf of paper. "-and if you're not, and you've been holding sweets out on me, I'll be pissed."

Martyn huffs a laugh, then grimaces when pain shoots up through his sinuses. Ambling over to the table, he half-sits, half-leans on the back of one of their deck chairs.

"Nah, same food as you. Man, I don't know what I did. TNT to the face carry over, d'you reckon?"

He grins, and Scott blanches. Well, shit.

"Alright, what's wrong with my mouth?" Martyn asks, stress rising when Scott doesn't answer. "I've still got teeth, right?"

Scott nods sharply. He wavers on an answer for a moment before sighing. "Yeah. You've just got some new ones, seems like."

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------

The hard part of suddenly having shark teeth, Martyn quickly discovers, is that they are not particularly designed for beings with lips, and certainly not ones that talk.

He tells Scott this, nursing several sore spots on his lips and tongue.

"Have you considered talking less?"

"Oh, screw you."

Scott rolls his eyes, and they go back to sorting through chests in companionable silence. Waves gently lap against the edge of their island, while bamboo canes creak and shift. After a few minutes Scott says, "In the- last time. I remember being relieved, a bit, that even though Cleo and I chose each other-"

"Exactly the conversation I wanted to have," Martyn deadpans.

"Would you shut up? Honestly." Scott smiles, but his jaw flexes as he does and Martyn resolves to shut up and let him say this, whatever it is. At least for the next ten or fifteen seconds. Probably.

"Anyways. I was a tiny bit relieved that I was paired with Pearl, because she was human. And I'd seen how it was for BigB getting canine features and Joel getting whatever the hell from Etho, and you, y'know..."

"Rotting?"

"Eugh. Yeah." Scott looks through their fence-lattice walls and out to the water. "But Pearl didn't stay human."

Martyn raises an eyebrow. (For effect. If Scott is doing a dramatic monologue towards the ocean, Martyn at least gets to make faces, whether or not Scott sees him. Them's the rules.)

"She got kind of... wolf-y? Or more accurately, the game made her wolfy. Not like Ren, not nearly that elegant a combination."

Scott's voice is bitter, an edge to it that Martyn associates with fireworks going off too-close by. "I woke up one morning and my teeth were sharp and there were too many for my mouth. And it hurt, and the worst part was knowing this wouldn't be happening if we'd just done what the game wanted."

Blinking, Martyn says, "Oh." Brilliant. Nailed the response, there.

"I just wanted to tell you. That it might- those might be my fault, because it seems like whatever runs this game doesn't like me very much. There's a reason I set up alone out here."

Martyn- ignoring the ache from his jaw and the kernel of self-interest that tells him to get while the getting is good- scoffs. "None of that, thank you! I don't care if bloody Herobrine has it out for you, we're sticking together."

Relief washes over Scott's face. Martyn adds, "If whoever runs this circus thinks unlimited knives for teeth is a punishment, they're mad."

"Clearly! You were already enough of a menace." Released from whatever tension kept him still, Scott reaches over to flip another chest lid up and starts rifling through. "It's like trying to annoy Joel by giving him too many TNT minecarts."

Martyn snorts. "Right! Once my mouth gets the memo about where everything is now I'll be doing fine- probably better than I was before! A supernatural entity trying to tell me who I can be friends with? C'mon, nothing that stupid is busting the Mean Gills up."

He almost believes it.

#martyn #scott #scott smajor #inthelittlewood #i dont know how this happened??? i just wrote for like. an hour straight #this is not normally how writing works for me but I am not complaining #limited life #mean gills #24lsmp #fic #life series #trafficblr #salem tag #salem fic

1K notes · View notes

bikiniarmorbattledamage · 3 months

Text

Granblue Fantasy, "Woke" International Standards and pandering to toxic trash gamers

So, I'm not going to name him because I don't particularly want his fans finding it via searches and sending me weird nonsense to my inbox, and honestly I don't want people who don't know him receiving psychic damage due to exposure to his opinions - but a certain streaming personality whose primary contribution is toxicity is getting angry that various mega-corporations that happen to originate in East Asia are continuing to focus on marketing broadly to get the most sales, rather than just pandering to miserable straight white men who are scared of anyone different to them.

Basically the same people who used to scream "Sex sells! Deal with it! Facts don't care about your feelings!" are now having breakdowns when it turns out massive mega-corporations don't want to be their friend/nanny/punching-bag, they want to make as much money as possible and the obvious way to achieve that is to broaden their audience, to make more people interested in buying their game.

Because the $100 from a personal with a marginalized identity who joins the series midway, spends exactly as well as the $100 for the cishet white guy who then goes on to start a harassment campaign against a developer via his social media clout, and uses the proceeds to buy Hot Pockets and bootleg NSFW merchandise (I assume).

Granblue Fantasy is a game series which has... largely resisted this trend. It's been releasing games, etc for ten years so, so many depictions of the player characters could be used as an illustration of our double standards tag.

(Also the male protagonist, Gran, is the one the series is named for when translated into English... there is no Djeetablue Fantasy - despite the many attempts by the fanbase to use memes to manifest it. However her name is incorporated into the native Japanese title... nobody tell him in case he decides that's "woke".)

So this guy who screams about studios who go woke, and was 100% going to play the latest entry in it... he'd support it right?

Nah, he complained he didn't like the story, he didn't get it and posted videos of him doing his signature "this is so bad" face. Man who lives off Hot Pockets and has unreasonable expectations of everyone else, failed to have his expectations met.

It's probably good he bailed out there before he found out that Granblue Fantasy, and a lot of game series like it - often have a lot of female fans who are in it for the story, the characters, the cute boys and the generally fun of the world.... all the stuff he hates.

If you doubt this, there's a foolproof way to check....

Oh wow I wonder why more and more studios are deciding it's a bad idea to court the attention of guys like him.

-wincenworks

#granblue fantasy #female armor bingo #commentary #double standards #bikini armor #plate armor #image #fantasy #RPG #video games #Bikini Armor Battle Damage #BikiniArmorBattleDamage #BABD #marketing #rhetoric

190 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for this disagreement with some of my friends/colleagues?

So I(40s F) used to work in local level government. I quit to pursue other career opportunities because of burnout, but they asked me to stay on in an official-unofficial advisory capacity, and I'm still pretty close with the current office holders, particularly the current occupant of my former office (A, 30s X). Their boyfriend (H, 30s M), who also works there, isn't fond of me but more or less tolerates me when they're around, which is okay enough. Both their job and my current one necessitate a lot of travel, so it's not often an issue.

Things run pretty smoothly, overall, and I do think the entire city council has the people's best interests at heart. However, recently a natural disaster devastated our area and caused a lot of disagreement over how best to deal with it, and frankly the proposal that was eventually put forward was an awful one that would return a privileged few (about 25% of the population, after estimating numbers) to a semblance of normalcy while neglecting the other 75%. Neither A nor I are willing to back the group's play on this one, for what I feel are obvious reasons. A has gone completely no contact with all of us and I don't even know where they are right now, which aside from worrying me a lot, also hurt my position in the discussion since I officially hold no office anymore.

So I took pretty decisive action to stop them, and now three of our original council (H, plus other members E and L) are extremely pissed off at me and are trying to rally the rest to oppose me, while making some extremely shortsighted and harmful moves in the process that will hurt a lot of people. They don't seem to care, however. It's like they consider the majority lesser human beings and only care about that privileged 25%. I don't think I did everything right, but I did my best. We have to let go of the past and make the best of what we have now, for everyone's sake. No more shall man have wings to bear him to paradise. Henceforth, he shall walk.

AITA for sundering reality into fourteen reflections to stop my coworkers? Or should they have accepted that their paradise is gone, and ceded the reflections to their new fragmented, imperfect inhabitants?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #fandom aita #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #unreality #good enough to post on purpose #shadowbringers spoilers #endwalker spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #(i don't normally tag spoilers but since i'm familiar with this one and it's a big moment)

972 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

shy!reader who study medicine and spider!jj always goes there when he's hurt for care 🥺

˚ ༘ 🕷️⋆🩷｡˚

answering the door at 4am, there’s only one person it could be. the blonde listens to you unlatching your door before you’re revealed in all your sleepy glory, rubbing at one eye in the cutest little pyjamas.

he’s pretty banged up this time — a busted lip and his suit is ripped at his rib cage, nothing he couldn’t fix but the gash beneath it was definitely something you were going to have to stitch up. your brows knit together, eyeing him over.

“you should see the other guy, cupcake.” he jokes, despite being in clear pain. you huff out your nose, tugging him inside.

“why are you using the front door? did anyone see you?” you stress, leading him by the hand to your quaint little living room. it wasn’t much, rather shabby if anything — but living in the city wasn’t cheap and it was the best you could do.

“ah, i used the fire escape. this asshole spared me some brain cells when he was kicking my shit in. you really think i’d just walk up in here?” he scoffs, dropping down comfortably on the couch as you frantically make space on the coffee table, spreading out your first aid kit.

“you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, jayj.” you pout, beginning to dig for the antiseptic.

“oh but then who will patch me up everytime i get my ass beat?” he tilts his head and his messy blonde hair flops with it, grinning lopsidedly in the dim light of the room, the cut on his lip glistening with it. you hate how your stomach stirs with butterflies for your best friend. your face gets all hot, averting your eyes and you feel him grinning harder — he always did love how bashful you got.

things get quiet when you start to wipe up his rib injury, aside from his dramatic winces and curse words tumbling from his mouth.

“you’re going to wake my neighbours.” you giggle, after a particularly loud ‘fuck’ from him.

“hey, maybe they’ll think you’re gettin’ some.” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows. as you reach for another cotton pad, your mouth moves on autopilot.

“i wish.” you remark, straying from your usual shy ways. his brows instantly jump up with intrigue, and you avoid his eyes, pressing your lips together as you busy yourself. you’d always been shy, since he’d met you — that’s why he’d taken you under his wing. he was dorky where it counted sure, but also boyish and confident in a way a lot of guys your age lacked. it made sense that he was spiderman, the unexpected amounts of unbridled swagger mixed with the scrappy awkwardness you’d expect from your best friend. he was drawn to your shyness because of how different you were, and because he knew deep down there was a freak just waiting for him to break it free.

“you know, if you ever wanna set up a — uh, lil payment plan, if you will — i could show you a real good time, mama.” he lays it on thick, too thick — incase you reject him, and then he can play it off as a joke. the problem is his tone is so teasing, you don’t know if he’s joking. your eyes flicker up to him from your knelt position, all doe-like and sweet in the way that makes him wish his spider suit wasn’t so tight as to not reveal his excitement.

“huh?”

“nah nothing. unless…you really get desperate. can totally step in and help you out. y’know in the…sex department.” he shrugs, tonguing at his lip cut and internally cussing himself out for being such a weirdo.

you blink a couple times, shifting to sit on your feet.

“are you concussed?” you speak after the pause.

“am i conc— no, okay it was a — an offer. but i feel like i kinda made it weird so that’s my bad let’s just pretend that didn’t happen and we can—”

“i wouldn’t mind.” you suddenly but quietly break through his ramble. he blinks a couple of times, lips parted in surprise.

“you wouldn’t mind — like… pretending this didn’t happen? or… the other thing?”

“the other thing.” you’re reduced down to a whisper now, eyes locked. he sits up slowly, leaning forward on the seat with his elbows on his knees so that your faces were close. in the low light, your pupils are all blown out, searching his eyes.

“you mean that?” he smirks, almost like he doesn’t believe you. you swallow and nod, not trusting your voice. something about it being 4am made you braver, and you’d completely forgotten about tending to his injuries. “well alright then. how ‘bout when i’m not bleeding out on your couch? gotta be in top condition when i put the moves on you.”

just like that, you’re brought back to reality — this time with the whisper of a promise that the two of you could be something more. you could be more than a late night emergency patch up.

˚ ༘ 🕷️⋆🩷｡˚

#anon #jj maybank prompt #spiderman!jj

221 notes · View notes

sinsofbeauty · 1 year

Text

Mine

Fandom: COD MWll

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem Sergeant! Reader

Requested: Nah :3

Warnings: FWB relationship, A little bit of Soft! Simon, Simon calling you “princess”, SMUTTYYY!!!, Very mimimal Dry Humping, Oral F! Receiving, Unprotected Sex!, Passionate, Rough?, Creampie

Overview: A friends with benefits relationship takes a turn, as Simon Riley starts to develop feelings for the young sergeant. He told himself he couldn’t let what they already had get the best of him, but he couldn’t resist.

A/n: A bit unedited guys, I’ll come back later to freshen it up but I was too eager to post this. Hope you all enjoy!

Y/n L/n, one of the Sergeants of Task Force 141. Unquestionably attractive, a true team player, and a certified badass on the battlefield. It was amazing how proficient she was with a rifle, and how beautiful she looked doing it. The woman was a crucial member of the squad, who excelled at stealth missions and was well recognized when it came to anything done undercover. She was someone who drew attention, particularly Simon Riley's.

The man was a brute, cold with pure fight to his masked beauty. Though when it came to her he didn’t know what the hell happened. His chest felt warm with comfort looking at her, regardless of whether she was seriously stern or joyfully smiling. He couldn’t help but stare. Sometimes he would stare too long, and when she would look at him he became tense with anxiety. Even though his eyes would show only blank emotion, he would casually look away moments after with his heart racing like a freight train.

He liked her, that much was clear. Simon wasn't sure how to feel about it even though it was evident she liked him back, from the way she flushed at his simple comments or occasionally flirted with him. Even after experiencing trauma, the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The sight of mere attraction made him feel…strange.

“Do you wanna try?”

Were the words you said that started all of this. The very words that made the man crack, his figure stiffening as hard as his cock that had already throbbed with excitement. Just looking at you made him grow a fucking tent, let alone horny. When you said this it was in reference to him kissing you after all the countless encounters of flirting back and forth even if it was minor. Long story short, that day he fucked your brains out, absolutely destroying your pretty pussy with all his throbbing cock could offer.

Since then, the both of you had been Friends with Benefits. Whenever there was an opportunity, he would fuck that pussy up like no tomorrow. He drowned in it, craved it, oh he absolutely loved it. Nothing that he had felt before and he knew you loved it too. A minor issue, though, had emerged recently. According to Simon's feelings, the relationship was beginning to develop into much more. He started to feel envious when you spent time with the boys and they were able to flirt with you without issue, because they were unaware of what you both have done. His frustration at not being able to have you all to himself led to frequent episodes of anger. Could he, though? You, all for him? Simply put, you were a friend, sergeant, simply a coworker. There was just no way in hell that he could have such intense feelings, as much as he tried not to. You wouldn't genuinely love him in such a way. That kind of love wouldn't be possible…would it?

—

“Ghost?” The man who had been changing in the center of the room had paused, staring at your half-naked figure as it lay on his bed, with hooded eyes. "You seem a bit...preoccupied," You said curiously.

And he was, in fact. He slowly removed his gear, barely giving you the slightest glance as he did so. He didn't feel the same way he had when you two originally started this some months ago; instead, he behaved very differently.

“It’s nothin’,” He had replied to you, unbuckling the belt to his pants to pull them down. “Just a little stress.”

“You sure?”

His medium blue jeans fell to the ground, revealing his strained erection that tightly pressed along his black boxers. He didn’t bother taking off his black long sleeve, nor did he remove his skull balaclava. “Why do you ask?”

He simply approached the bed, grabbed your legs, and dragged you over to the edge. He bent down and placed his hands on either side of your head as he fixed his gaze downward on your vulnerable body.

“You seem a little different today, that’s all.” You replied to him as he tilted his head to the side. “Plus, I thought you said last time would be the…well, last time.”

He stared at you with no change in emotion, but you could see his brows twitch a little. He said, "I know," as his forearms dropped to the bed. “You're just fucking irresistible.”

With your legs slightly dangling off the bed Ghost had spread them with his knees, putting himself in between you as his clothed cock touched your slick panties. You whimpered lowly as his face was close to yours, the man bucking his hips slowly. His dick made his way up and down your clothed cunt, his eyes closing, enjoying the moment.

“Can I try something?” He asked. You nodded your head as he opened his eyes, humming a yes as he did so. “You’ll have to close your eyes then, princess.”

Despite your bewilderment you complied. He lifted himself off the bed as you were closing your eyes, seizing the hem of your underwear and dragging it down your legs. He growls, and you hear the gentle thump on the floor. He then gently patted your outer thigh before grabbing it with one hand. From the angle you felt that from, he must’ve been crouched on the ground.

“You ready?” He asked, since you couldn’t see he probably didn’t want to startle you. Which was…quite considerate.

“Yes but-“

As soon as you said yes you felt his finger dive into your already wet pussy, but that is not what made you tense up. For the first time you had felt his tongue planted flat on your sweet bud. He had taken the balaclava off, at least the bottom portion. Pushing his fingers between your sensitive flesh he fucked you, pressing against the spongey region of your delicate insides almost immediately. He traced his tongue over your clit, flicking lightly in a perfect rhythm.

“Aaah~!”

His tongue moved up and down on the dripping slit of your genitalia. God damn did he know what he was doing, and you writhed with delight as your hands captured the covers. Your inner walls spasm, making Ghost take you into his mouth while your legs began to shake. He keeps going, sucking, tasting, and savoring after each stroke. He pulls his fingers out from you when you begin to pull away, grabbing onto your thighs and pulling you back to him.

“Where are you going?” Ghost’s amused huff is heard before he goes back to eating your pussy like a french dessert.

You couldn’t help but fist the sheets with your sweaty palms, a feeling building up inside of you. Your toes curled, eyes still clenched shut as your back began to arch just barely. You couldn’t believe that you were already so close to orgasm. This man was gonna make you cum in less than five minutes! Your breathing becomes labored as you grind against him, bringing you closer to release. His tongue then descended into the folds of your pussy making you purr with satisfaction. Through the darkness of your eyelids you began to see stars, feeling his thumb fondle with your oh so sensitive clit.

It threw you over the edge. Your body convulses as cries of pleasure echo through the room. Falling apart beneath him your back arches high, thighs colliding with his head as you squeezed tightly.

“F-Fuck Ghost-“ You sharply exhale.

He continues to play with your clit until you’re practically crushing his head with your thighs, and releases you completely afterwards. With a loud sigh and the rise of your chest, your legs had spread apart, and you put a hand over your face. God…no one has ever made you feel that good.

“You called baby?” You heard his voice for only just a second, until you felt his lips press gently on the skin of your inner thigh. “Keep those eyes closed.” Another shift made you realize that he had moved again, your eyes obeying him and not opening. The heat on your face told you that he had kept the bottom part of his balaclava off, as it still exposed his face.

“Coming so fast for me. I love that.” His voice was taunting, deep and oh so sexy.

“Shut up.” You giggled softly. “When can I open my eyes?”

“When I say so,” Ghost commented. “Do you wanna try?”

“Try what?”

His lips brushed against yours, making your heart almost stop. “That.”

“Yes…” You immediately responded. It made you whimper, simply because those lips were literally right there.

That time you guys kissed, had been the only time. You didn��t know why, but now that the opportunity presented itself once more, hell yeah you were going for it. Without another moment to waste, you felt his lips on yours. He took a hand up to your chest and groped your breast, grazing his thumb over your puckered nipple. Your head becomes light as he kisses you tenderly, the slight turn of his head deepening it. You could taste what Ghost had been devouring, your juices mixed with his own distinctive taste. Fuck it was good. His lips danced onto yours with ease, soon turning into a slow, passionate kiss. Your hands had made their way up to the man’s face, grabbing the sides that were still covered by his balaclava with part of his stubble jaw. His cock, felt against your slit rubbed its rosy head up and down as you both fondly enjoyed each other.

Ghost had pulled back, you letting go of his face before he stood to his tall form. “You can open your eyes now.”

When he did, his balaclava was covering his face again.

“You’re such a dick.”

“I know, but you love it.”

Your face changed immediately, subconsciously looking at him with eyes that only could express love. Maybe you did, who knows. His erection pressed against his defined abs when he lifted the front of his shirt up, letting his body get some cool air before the fun. “Gorgeous, don’t look at me like that.” His voice was playful, making you snap out of your trance and smile at him with a giggle. “Making me melt over here, dripping like a faucet.”

“You’re telling me,” You playfully shake your legs. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm~.”

“You’re such a tease.” Ghost softly put his fingers around your hips.

“Speak for yourself.”

“Hm? I didn’t hear that.” His head tilted to the side.

“Fuck you Ghost.” You shook your head looking away from him, a blush appearing on your face.

“I’m trying,” With that he positioned himself and sunk his dick into you. You moaned deeply as he went in slow, your eyes going back to his as he stared deep into your soul. His cock was so perfect, every inch of your pussy was filled to the hilt, no space left untouched.

“F-Fucking…hell…” You mutter, your fingers taking some locks of your hair.

“You good?”

“Yeah…it’s been a little while. You’re just so big Ghost.”

“And you’re so tight love,” He groaned, taking his hands off of you. “You’re lucky no ones here to listen to your pretty voice.” Ghost had rolled up the sleeves to his shirt before momentarily taking your hips again, making you flinch in pleasure as his cock moved slightly inside of you. “You drive me wild, you know that?”

“Maybe,” You smiled, feeling Ghost pull out before thrusting back in steadily. “Fuuuck Ghost…you fill me up so well.” You breath out, making him nod his head slightly to the side.

“Damn right,” He huffed, cock twitching inside you. Ghost began moving his hips in a consistent pace, thrusting his cock into you. He loved watching your face change, twisting with pleasure as he fucked you slowly. Though it was too slow, and he knew that. “Tell me how you want it baby.”

You stared into his piercing blue eyes, your own squinting up at him. “H-Harder.”

“Harder?”

You nodded your head, mumbling a yes under your breath. “Like how you usually do it. But…n-not as fast.”

He hummed, readjusting his fingers on your hips to a more comfortable position. Ghost then looks down, pulling out his cock to the head before thrusting his hips back into you harshly. Not something wind knocking or ruthless, but just enough to make your cunt spasm around him tightly. He took note of this, going in a little deeper to hit your G-Spot and oh did that drive you fucking insane.

With his slow pace but deadly hard thrusts into your tight hole, your mouth couldn’t contain the forced moans and shouts that escaped. The pleasure was pure, eye rolling, and did he do it just right. Your core tightens and grips at his dick while he makes your body jolt back from the hard force.

“Like this?”

He was doing it just right, but unfortunately it wasn’t as much as you wanted. You craved him much more than you had thought. “Faster~.”

Ghost cocked his head to the side, a small growl vibrating the pit of his throat. Plunging himself deeper, faster inside of you, made his head fall back in pure ecstasy. The sound of skin smacking as he quickens his pace fills the room, your back arching as he hits the deepest parts of your core. He knew what you wanted, and without another word he began pounding into you relentlessly.

You eagerly beg, desperate to feel him, “Aaaah~! Yes- Fuck! More, more Ghost..y-you make me feel..mmhn~.”

“S-Shit…” Ghost stuttered, slamming into your cunt with urgency.

You cried out to him, legs beginning to shake when he bent down. His body was planted on yours, your legs subconsciously locking around his waist. Ghost fucked you mercilessly, his eyes locked on you with no emotion. Gasping for air, your nails dug into his back that was still clothed from his long sleeve. Beads of sweat dripped down the mans neck, and you could feel the dampness of his shirt as you clawed at his back. You could just imagine how hot he would be under the balaclava. You could hear him panting behind the mask as your orgasm rapidly built.

“Just like that baby. You feel so good around me..”

You could feel his cock twitch inside you, but your mind was too fogged up from the stimulation to notice completely. “You fuck me sooo good” You could tell his thrusts had gotten weaker, but the pace was still the same. “Don’t stop,” You urge, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

Ghost had took your hands into his, eloping his fingers with yours. Your arms were above your head, pinned while his eyes just couldn’t look away. “Fuckin’ hell love.” he groans, sinking into you over and over. Momentarily he slows to adjust himself, before aiming right in the special spot of your core.

You gasp, immediately shutting your eyes as a shout escapes you, not long after a scream of pure ecstasy. “Yes” You encourage. “Right there!” The bed rocked back and forth at this point, hitting the wall over and over.

“So,” Thrust. “Fucking,” Thrust. “Beautiful.”

Climax rips through your body without warning, consuming you, Ghost fucking you through a wave of everlasting euphoria. With one last thrust Ghost had buried his cock deep inside of your, eyes closing shut as ribbons of cum spurt inside your pussy. You gasped at this, his pulsating cock harshly throbbing as you milked him dry, white coating your inner walls. His face buried in the crook of your neck scrunched with pleasure, body twitching. He panted hard, slumping into you as his hands held your own tightly. Your own chest rose and fell heavily, your hazy eyes looking up at the ceiling as the stars faded away.

“I…I-I’m sorry…” Your eyes looked down at the man who’s head was on your chest. “I forgot…I wasn’t wearing protection.”

He lifted his head up, his baby blue eyes staring into yours. His body was next, taking all of his weight off of you. In that moment he had slipped his cock out, his groan low while he watched his cum drip from your slick cunt. He looks down at you, sweaty and adoring your weak body on the bed.

You thought he was so adorable, you couldn’t help but lay there so he could get a good view. Feelings began to worsen, that heart in your chest racing. He was so lovely. “It’s okay,” You replied with a weak smile. “I’m on birth control.”

“Luckily,” Ghost turned, going to the small dresser he had in the corner of his room. There already prepared laid a towel, in which he picked up and came back to you with. It made you tilt your head at him, but as soon as you were going to get up he stopped you. Ghost had cleaned you up nicely afterwards.

—

“Ghost,” You said, dressed as you came back from the bathroom. He was sitting on the bed at this point, tying the strings to his sweatpants. “Is this the last time?”

For the first time you saw something spark in his eyes when he looked up at you. It made him look away from you as if he noticed himself, his leg beginning to bounce up and down nervously. “Do you want it to be?”

“No,” You reached out to him, taking the sides of his face between your hands. His eyes closed, taking in the warmth of your palms that were planted softly on his face. “Do you?”

“No love.” His response was in a harsh whisper, eyes fluttering open, bringing him back to you. His gorgeous blues took you like an ocean, blinking in perfection at your own beautiful irises.

“I want you to be mine, and only mine.”

#simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #cod smut #cod x reader

3K notes · View notes