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hanjisick · 1 year

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— CHAI LATTE

order #4 of the coffee shop series: a chai latte.

ingredients y/n x heartthrob!barista!artist!hyunjin. strangers to lovers.

allergies. contains: makeouts. lots of cheesy content.

size. 2k

special add ons. instead of passion for his looks, you had passion for his art. that’s what made him fall for you.

“hey,” a girl shuffled her feet awkwardly, “do you see the girl in white over there?”

hyunjin’s lips pressed together, nodding.

“she wanted to ask for your number, but she’s shy, so i came instead.”

his response was almost engrained in his head at this point, looking straight into her nervous eyes. “tell your friend that she’s very gorgeous.”

her eyes lit up for a second, and he felt a pang of guilt in his chest, knowing that he’d have to put out that fire immediately. “but i don’t want a girlfriend at the moment.”

“oh, i understand. thank you anyways.”

hyunjin’s paintbrush dipped into the glass cup of water once again, brushing the girl off as he tried to seem heavily distracted by his work.

“how’s it coming?” jisung leaned over the counter, “do you need another tea?”

“i’d love a chai latte.”

“of course,” he stood close by as he turned on another machine, able to keep the conversation going as muscle memory kicked in, “where will you hang that painting?”

“i don’t like it all that much, to be honest. it might find a nice spot in the trash can.”

“i like it,” jisung poured the hot water into a cup, “trust the process. maybe you could hang it in the back.”

hyunjin nodded his attention back to his art. a few minutes later, jisung hands him his tea.

“those girls left, you can relax now.”

hyunjin dropped his shoulders, “it’s so uncomfortable.”

“oh,” jisung fake mocked, “poor pretty boy can’t get away from the girls.”

“it’s not as fun as you’d think,” he scowled at jisung’s antics, taking a sip of tea.

“i wish i had that problem.”

“jisung! stop getting distracted!” chan called out as the dark-haired boy flinched, scrambling to take another order.

hyunjin glanced between his reference photo and his artwork for the next few hours, the sounds of soft vinyl music and chatter drowning out his deep thoughts.

he watched his coworkers come and go through their shifts and soon enough, his own shift was only thirty minutes away.

the afternoon rush had slowed down, with only a few customers left in the shop during the evening hours. each was sitting in the back, earbuds in, focused on their studies.

hyunjin was focused as well, his eyes tired from staring for so long, almost thankful that he was getting a break from painting soon. but he was almost finished, and jisung was right— it was turning out wonderful.

his focus caused him to miss the tapping on his shoulder for a few seconds, turning to find another girl in front of him.

right as he opened his mouth, you began to talk first.

“i noticed your painting, and i was wondering how much you would charge for them?”

hyunjin’s eyebrows raised, staring for a long second, trying to process your words.

nobody had asked him to purchase one of his paintings before.

“i don’t sell them, i hang them around the shop,” he pointed towards the array of decorations, your gaze following them around the room.

“they’re beautiful,” you commented, “i noticed you working and i think that would look amazing in my living room, but i’m sorry for bothering you.”

“no, it’s fine, please, i’m flattered,” his smile only grew by the second, “i could give you this one, for free.”

his interactions with customers were rarely comfortable. but you looked at him with admiration, in a different way than most girls had— it made him feel as though you valued him for his talents instead of his looks. that made him feel euphoric.

“no,“ you turned down his offer. “at least one fifty. it looks like you’ve spent hours on it.”

before he could argue, he had only really spent five, you began shuffling through your bag.

one hundred and fifty dollars in cash. you shoved it into his hand. “that’s all i have on me right now, but if you want more that’s fine too—“

“this is more than enough,” he stopped you there, afraid that you would pay him every dollar you own.

“thank you so much,” you stared at the painting, tracing the lines of the flower stem, “it’s very well made.”

pride welled up in hyunjin’s chest as he signed the painting. “thank you for appreciating it.”

“hyunjin, clock in!” chan called out, grabbing both of your attention.

“got it!” he yelled back before turning to you once again.

“you work here?”

“i do,” he stood up, gathering his brushes from the wooden counter.

“that’s wonderful, because i stopped in for a drink, and i don’t know what to get.”

hyunjin smiled, “my favorite is an iced chai latte.”

you studied the man in front of you, his long black hair tied back, a soft gaze in his eye, the brown cardigan draped loosely over his shoulders. “looks like something you’d drink. i’ll take that.”

“you’d drink me?”

the stupid question slipped out of his mouth. hyunjin wasn’t one to flirt with somebody he had just met. especially something so dumb.

all he could do is study your face as you took in the question, the corners of your lips turning upwards. “i would.”

he cleared his throat. “i’ll ring you up then. what’s a good name for you?”

“y/n.”

“do you want your receipt?”

his hands shook as he prepared your drink, feeling a nervousness that he hadn’t felt since middle school.

you took a seat next to one of his paintings, clutching the one that you now owned in your lap.

he kept meeting your gaze from across the room, only to shyly look away and pretend that he had always focused this hard on making tea.

“order for y/n!” hyunjin called out.

you sprung up from your seat to take your drink, “thank you.”

“thank you,” he grinned in his absolute best customer service voice, watching you bring the drink up to your mouth.

“it’s wonderful. just like your art, you’re a very talented person.”

perhaps he had found his soulmate.

“i hope you have a great day, hyunjin.”

his voice caught in his throat as you turned away. how did you know his name? his signature. right.

the next day you had come in during the evening hours, hoping to find hyunjin once again.

as always, he was in the same spot.

“i hung your art on my wall. it looks wonderful there.”

he couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face. “you did?”

“i did,” you sat down by his side with your chai latte.

“the other barista doesn’t make these as well as you do.” hyunjin glanced up to see who was working at the bar. jisung again.

he let out a snicker, speaking loudly so that the boy could hear it over the groaning machines, “jisung is my sworn enemy, of course i make better chai lattes than him.”

“hey! you should see my latte art! it’s way better than his!” he yelled out, looking as though he was going to charge at him.

a muscular barista grabbed his arm almost out of instinct, “stop bickering!”

“he was totally about to fight you.”

“that’s the third time today that he’s tried.”

“that explains why that guy grabbed him so quickly.”

“changbin’s reliable like that,” hyunjin pointed out, continuing to sketch, “we’ve all been friends for years. then chan opened a coffee shop.”

“chan?”

“the one who’s always yelling at us to stay on task. he’s always working here, never sleeps. this shop is his most prized possession.” he nodded over to the curly-haired blonde at a table with headphones in his ears. papers were spread out around him as he bounced his leg, obviously stressed.

“don’t worry about him, he always looks like that.”

“you’re a true artist, paying attention to all the details,” you took a sip, “it’s cute.”

his sketching halted briefly as red dusted his cheeks. he had been called cute almost every day of his life, but it was different coming from you. you meant it in a way that others hadn’t.

he couldn’t put the gratitude you made him feel into words, so the only thing he could say came out of his mouth after a long pause— “thank you.”

“do you have a shift soon?”

“no, i’m actually off today.“

“but you come here anyways?”

“it’s just the same thing i’d be doing at home but in a pretty café with my friends instead.”

“but don’t you get bored of it?” you watched his hands grip the charcoal pencil, drawing lines of a building from a reference photo.

“not really. this is like my second home.”

you nodded in understanding, falling back into the chair.

the tension between the two of you grew as you both fell into silence.

hyunjin kept stealing glances at you through the corner of his eyes. it was obvious that he wanted to make a move. ask for a number, a date, or something.

right as he began to build up the confidence to speak, you spoke first.

“there’s an art museum nearby that i’ve been dying to check out. if you’re ever bored, we could go together.”

“what time does it close?”

“around ten, we could make it with an hour if we left right now,” you opened your phone to double-check the time.

“is this a date?”

“it could be.”

“it should be,” he corrected, gathering up his materials to put into his bag.

“i agree.”

deciding on his car for the spontaneous date, he opened the door for you like a giggly teenager.

he started the car, turning the radio on to softly play music to cut the once again building tension between the two of you. it didn’t work and instead felt as though he had been driving for hours.

you fiddled with your hands, glancing between him and the road. the sun was setting in the distance, ironically looking as if it were a painting itself. it went from hues of pink and yellow to deep blues and orange.

“you should paint the sky,” you commented.

“i love to paint the sky.”

“you should show me one of yo ur paintings of it sometime.”

after what felt like forever, hyunjin pulled into the parking lot, stopping the car.

he turned to you, illuminated by the little light still left by the day.

“you’re very pretty, y/n.”

“you seem like the type to stare at a girl's lips in a parking lot of an art museum during the sunset.”

“would i seem like the type to kiss you right afterward, too?” he replied, catching you off guard.

“i could only hope.” he leaned in, meeting your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

after a few seconds, hyunjin tried to reluctantly pull away, only for you to pull him closer by the back of his head.

his hand met your jaw as he deepened the kiss. you could taste the spices of chai on his lips, causing a warmth to spread in your chest.

both of you pulled away for air, the kiss leaving you breathless.

“i think i’m going to fall for you.” you could see the hopeless romantic in his eyes as you opened the car door.

“wait until at least after the first date,” you quietly laughed, watching him try to put himself together.

“would a free chai latte make you fall for me too?”

“i already have, hyunjin.”

#skz #stray kids #han jisung #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #bang chan #stray kids scenarios #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin skz

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lambertdiary · 7 months

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please gf reader and she is just really clingy

I LOVE CLINGY.

I think that Dalton would love a clingy girlfriend, and once he got used to her constantly needing hugs, kisses or just his company he would crave it just as much.

She would hold his hand any time she got the opportunity, even if they were just sitting in a restaurant having a chat, she would reach for his hand under the table and hold it the whole time. And whenever they were walking together she would hold his arm and lean into him, making it a little harder to walk but he didn’t mind. Actually, he loved it.

And the first time he was clingy it made her really happy, it also made her want to be close to him even more.

One day, they were both at the library, studying for different classes but still together. It was pretty empty so they found a free couch and made themselves comfortable, sitting across from each other.

Dalton was focused on his notes, his eyebrows furrowing as he read them over and over again. Y/N, however, couldn’t concentrate, starting to get a little frustrated when everything she read made no sense to her brain. She sought comfort from her boyfriend but stopped herself when she noticed him studying.

He could feel her occasional stare, and when he finally caught her she blushed and immediately looked away.

“Everything okay?” He asked, worried there was something wrong. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded and kept reading her own notes. But Dalton knew what would make her feel better “Come here” He said, patting the spot next to him.

She looked up and made her way next to him right away “I can’t focus” She admitted, resting her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head as she reached for his hand, blushing his skin with her thumb.

“Do you wanna take a break?” He asked, ready to put his notes down, but Y/N shook her head.

“No, I just need to recharge” Dalton smiled and moved closer to her. Y/N started to feel better, and she was sure she would be able to study as long as she stayed right there.

#concept friday #dalton lambert concept #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert imagines #insidious #ty simpkins #insidious the red door #insidious 5

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127luvr · 6 months

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005 The Deal

. ˚ ｡ ° ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⋆˙ ✧ ⋆ ˗ˋˏ ✩ ˎˊ˗ ⋆ ˙ ✧ ⋆ ｡ ° ⋆ ࿓ . ˚

sungchan takes everything you say at face value—never looking for further context or explanation on your behalf. he accepts your sudden short answers and depleted mood that result from texting your friends. he doesn’t like intruding but he wishes he could provide a sense of comfort and ease your worries—worries he wanted to hear about. on a certain level—you want him to ask—you want to talk about what’s been troubling you with someone who wasn’t the one influencing your feelings. but the moment has passed.

it’s been silent for too long. silent while you clocked out. silent during the car ride to sungchan’s gym. silent in the gym.

it’s half past five—usually their busiest time of the day but it feels like you are the only people here.

you watch sungchan’s form diligently, holding your hands just under the bar as he raises it from his chest to as far as his arms go. he’s in a fitted muscle tee that does nothing to hide the muscles underneath it—sweatpants that hang loose around his hips exposing the branded band of his briefs. he has his legs planted on opposite sides of the bench, back arched high in the air as he exhales loudly. there’s a sheen of sweat that coats his exposed skin, the sight of it causing your mouth to go dry. you’ve never witnessed sungchan like this—so concentrated in his form but never overextending himself.

its new. the feeling that flutters in your stomach as you watch him from above, never removing your hands.

“you don’t have to keep your hands there forever.” he puts the bar on the hooks above him, sitting up. “just whenever you see that i’m about to fail or can’t lift the bar anymore, then you step in.” you hand him his water, watching as it spills from the sides of his mouth as he drinks out of it. you look away for a moment—feeling heat creep onto your cheeks rapidly.

“just make sure you don’t put too much weight on there, i don’t know how much i’ll be able to lift.” sungchan smiles, placing his bottle on the floor.

“do you want to try and bench? i’ll take the weights off and you can start with the bar, it’s only forty-five pounds.” you consider it for a moment, stepping away from the back of the equipment to stand next to sungchan. this time he’s looking up at you as you stare down at him—as opposed to earlier when his focus was on the bar—it’s nerve-wrecking. “do you want to see the proper form again or do you mind if i just adjust you?”

“i think i can copy your form, you’ll probably just have to tweak it.” sungchan wastes no time in taking your spot as a spotter, letting you get comfortable on the faux-leather bench. he stands to your side, now studying the way you prop yourself up in position. his large hands find your waist—startling you as he positions your waist higher off of the bench. your eyes avoid his—heels digging into the floor of the gym out of nervousness. “good?”

he doesn’t reply. only nods in your direction as he walks to stand behind your head. the view of him from below is different—it makes your heart beat out of your chest as you position yourself to grab the bar. you touch the cold metal, his hands right next to yours as you bring it down to touch the top of your chest. you have little-to-no-trouble in lifting it as far as you can but you still feel your hands shake. sungchan keeps his hands next to your head, the veins nearly distracting you from your last rep. he helps you put the bar back in its place, hands nearly on top of yours as you finally allow your back to plop down the bench. you’re flushed—sweaty for all the wrong reasons but he takes no notice in your flustered state.

“five reps! that’s awesome, y/n. you should go for more next time.”

. ˚ ｡ ° ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⋆˙ ✧ ⋆ ˗ˋˏ ✩ ˎˊ˗ ⋆ ˙ ✧ ⋆ ｡ ° ⋆ ࿓ . ˚

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leoslosttoolbelt · 1 year

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Valdangelo Coffee Shop AU

Nico pushes the door to the cafe open, body relaxing because of the sudden warmth.

The cafe is mostly empty - which is exactly why Nico comes here every Wednesday at 8pm, almost no seats are taken and he can study in silence for 2 hours. There’s Hazel doing something behind the bar but Nico can’t see any of the other workers - another plus in his open.

He sits at his usual corner table, the one with the best view, before he goes up to the bar to order.

“Hey,” He greets his cousin easily. “Can I have a mocha - with extra chocolate?”

Hazel frowns at his request, “You won’t be able to sleep if you have coffee this late. I’ll make you a cup of Lavender tea.”

Nico grumbles but fishes out some money to pay anyway. The only downside of coming to a cafe that his cousin worked at was that didn’t exactly care about customer satisfaction, not when she made Nico try whatever she wanted him to drink instead of his order.

A small price to pay for a quiet study spot.

He opens his laptop and gets comfortable in his seat when somebody - who is evidently not Hazel - places a cup of tea in front of him.

Leo.

Another reason why he comes to the cafe at this time.

Leo’s almost always working the closing shift and Nico uses his study breaks to argue with the boy about any topic under the sun or to silently watch him work, sweeping the floors or making drinks for the lone customer.

He was secretly hoping that Leo would be sick or something today - he really needs to get this assignment completed as soon as possible and he can’t really work with Leo being - well with Leo being Leo.

He moves like a flame, drawing everyone’s attention no matter what he’s doing. His movements are always so fluid and relaxed, something about him makes someone as anxious as Nico feel relaxed.

Nico swears he’s magic with the machines in the shop. He knows exactly how to get the best espresso pull from the old coffee machine and the milk is always just perfect when he’s the one in charge of the steamer. Even Hazel has talked about how Leo can fix their oven in a matter of minutes - it’s like everything in the shop just calls for him.

But the real reason why Nico thinks that Leo shouldn’t be here is because above all else he’s distracting. He’s always in Nico’s business - asking him about his day and making jokes that make Nico lose his page when he’s reading. One day Leo spoke to Nico for a full half hour - and Nico couldn’t focus for a full day afterwards - his mind replaying all of Leo’s words like some kind of broken record.

So really, he couldn’t afford to have Leo around tonight.

“Hazel’s gone home.” He grins down at Nico, showing off his dimples and impish smile. “I’ll be closing up today.”

Nico hums, he hopes Leo can’t see the red on his ears. “I mean, there’s two hours till you close.”

“Yep - but you’re our only customer.”

Nico looks around the cafe, Leo’s right. He’s the only one inside - now that he thinks about it, he’s usually the only one inside.

It comes out before he has the chance to stop himself. “Y’all will go out of business at this rate - I can’t be your only customer for so long.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t respond with a snarky comment today. He looks to the ground - cheeks flushed, is he embarrassed?

Nico suddenly feels guilty about his comment, he really doesn’t know how well the cafe actually is but he really hopes they won’t have to close down soon - it’s Nico’s safe space as much as he hates to admit it.

“An empty cafe just means I get to spend time with my favourite customer.” The barista teases, never one to let Nico have the last word.

Nico groans. He really has to finish this assignment.

“I’ll give you five dollars if you leave me alone,” he reaches for a wallet and hands Leo the money - who doesn’t even argue before pocketing the bill and disappearing with a wink.

Nico gets 20 minutes of work done before Leo reappears again.

This time he has a cup of coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other.

He wordlessly places them on the table and wordlessly picks up the untouched cup of Lavender tea.

“What’s this?” Nico asks.

Leo shrugs. “On the house - made you a mocha since you hate tea.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Don’t even know why you ordered tea if you barely touched it. Some old lady wouldv’e loved this, yknow?”

Nico’s too flustered to tell Leo that Hazel made that tea for him.

Leo knows his favourite coffee.

Leo also knows that he hates tea.

Leo also willingly made him food after Nico shooed him away.

He should really thank him.

Nico looks up at the boy, blinking like an idiot.

“I gave you five dollars to leave me alone, didn’t I?”

Leo shrugs. Nico wants to crawl up in a hole and die.

“5 dollars gets you twenty minutes of silence - besides, I used it to make you coffee so it doesn’t count anymore.”

“So,” Nico quirks his head. “It wasn’t on the house.”

“Well that depends…” Leo says, Nico can practically feel his smirk forming. “What does that phrase even mean? Everything is on the house if you really think about it.”

“What does that even mean?” Nico starts to ask but Leo’s gone once again, disappearing just as fast as he came here.

Huh.

Leo only comes back once after that, to take away his empty cups and plates. Nico’s a little disappointed that he didn’t stay and talk but it’s for the better - he really needs to work on his paper.

He works for another forty five minutes before deciding that’s enough for the day.

Quickly, he packs up and walks to the coffee bar, hopefully Leo isn’t doing anything too important right now.

And there he is, sitting behind the bar and playing SubWay surfers.

“Didn’t know you were allowed to have your phone out on the clock.” He greets, Leo meets his eyes with his usual dimpled grin - effectively killing the little character on his screen.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘On the clock,” He says, motioning around them.

Nico looks around the cafe - Leo’s words falling into place as he takes in the cafe for the 10th time this week probably.

It’s empty.

Spotless.

The clock only reads 9:30 pm which would mean that there’s half an hour till closing time - but all the tables have chairs stacked up on top of them and all the machines are basically spotless. The floors have already been sweeped and all the cups are nicely stacked in the cupboards - and that’s when Nico sees it, the shops ‘Open’ sign is facing the inside.

They’re closed.

He pieces everything together. Why the cafe is always so empty when Nico arrives, why Hazel is almost always just on her way out and Leo’s the only worker left. Why Leo cleans up while Nico’s still inside the cafe and why he’s usually fooling around or doing homework instead of his actual job.

“The cafe is closed.”

Leo smiles, slinging his already packed bag over his shoulders. “Cafes don’t really stay open till 10 pm y’know?”

“Then why…” Nico trails off, eyes trained on Leo.

The boy in front of him shrugs, once again avoiding Nico’s gaze like he’s embarrassed. “We usually close at 8, but Hazel said you like studying when it’s quiet and I don’t really mind.”

“I usually just clean up and finish up my own work while you study - so really it’s not really that big of a deal, and I asked my boss Reyna about it and she said to do whatever as long as I get the shop closed so-” Leo starts to ramble, looking more flustered by the second.

“Hey!” Nico interrupts, for the first time this month he thinks that maybe he thinks about him in the same way Nico thinks about him. Or maybe he’s secretly insane and has no friends. Either way - no one’s gone out of their way to do something like this for him before.

“Maybe you can close up for real this time and then tell me about why you keep open so late after that.”

Leo blinks at him. Then he smiles again, this time he’s shy. “Are you asking me to walk you home?”

Nico shrugs. “Only if you give me 5 dollars.”

That makes Leo bark out a laugh, “We can go outside - I’ve got the keys and my bag already.”

Nico hums, following Leo and watching as he closes the shop for the night - despite it being so late his body was buzzing with excitement. He’s not quite sure if it’s from the coffee or Leo - maybe both.

And then Leo turns around from the door with a toothy grin and - yeah Nico’s realised why he’s feeling jittery now.

#pjo hoo toa #leo valdez #nico di angelo #valdangelo

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pleasurebuttonwrites · 2 years

Text

Hung the Moon (Chapter 1)

Masterlist | Chapter 2

Pairings: Jake Lockley x f!Reader

Summary: Your boss has sent you to retrieve an artifact. Jake Lockley is willing to help you. But are you willing to do something in return?

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: smut, technically coercion - but it’s all consensual, public-ish sex, unprotected piv, oral sex (male receiving), swearing

Word count: 2.4K

A/N: This was my first time writing second person fic. It was super fun! No Y/N. Also I’m new to fic in general and I don’t know all the terms or what all to tag. Please let me know if I got anything wrong or should tag something I didn’t. Thanks!

~~~

You’re sitting at an outdoor cafe in London waiting for your contact. You’re finally meeting him after months of messages and a few brief phone calls. He says he can get you what you’re searching for. And it’s not a moment too soon. Your boss has been breathing down your neck. He’s already sent his thugs after you twice and you had to sweet talk your way out of it. You’ve made so many promises and you’re really not sure you’ll be able to keep them. All of it comes down to this contact and what he can deliver.

You focus on the glass of water in front of you - you know better than to look around like you’re waiting for someone. If anyone is watching you, you can’t appear nervous. But you are. You watch bead after bead of condensation form and slip down the smooth glass as the minutes tick by. Your heart pounds in your chest when you start to think he might not show.

Then from the corner of your eye, you see someone. Your breathing picks up and you can hear your heart pound in your ears because he’s the absolute last person you want to see. You recognize him from the photo in his file. The heavy brow and large nose. Your mark, one Marc Spector, mercenary. You’re sure he doesn’t know who you are - how could he? But you turn your face away in any case hoping he’ll be gone in a minute.

Instead he heads straight for your table. He drapes his jacket over the chair across from you and sits down. You’re frozen to the spot, waiting to see what he’s going to do.

“I didn’t think you’d still be waiting,” he tells you - in Spanish. Your brain slowly realizes two things: one, Marc doesn’t speak Spanish, at least it’s not listed in his file. And two, he sounds exactly like your contact: Jake Lockley.

“What the fuck?” you say a little louder than you expected to. The women at the table next to you glance over.

“Tranquilo,” he says. Take it easy. “It’s me, Jake.”

He says it simply like he’s stating the obvious. You continue to stare at him. What can you even say?

He looks at you, partly confused, partly concerned. Then his brows shoot up in realization. “Oh, shit. I didn’t know that you knew what he looked like. I’m not Marc.”

“If you’re not Marc, then, what, are you two like twins or something? Seriously, what the fuck is going on?”

“No, not exactly,” he says.

You get up to leave but he reaches out and holds onto your wrist to stop you. “Do you want the s-” - he stops before he mentions the name publicly - “the amulet” - he calls it instead - “or don’t you?”

It’s not just that you want it, if you don’t get it, you’re dead. You sit back down. But you still don’t know what’s going on. You’re not even convinced that this guy isn’t Marc.

“Mira, I know you don’t believe it, but I’m not Marc.” Probably due to the look on your face, he elaborates, “Yes, this is Marc’s body, but I’m Jake.”

After a moment to think you ask, “So you’re like, what do they call ‘em, an alter?”

He nods. This was not in Marc’s file. You’re going to have to do a lot more research on this guy.

You still find it hard to believe. But the alternative, that he’s really Marc and he’s just pretending to have an alter named Jake to fuck with you, just doesn’t sound like the guy you researched. He’s a ruthless mercenary, sure, but nothing to suggest that he’s a sick sadistic fuck.

You study him, trying to decide if you trust him or not. You’re thinking that you might not have a choice even if you don’t. He looks right back at you, and there’s an openness to the way he doesn’t avoid your gaze. There’s no challenge to it. He actually just looks a bit…tired. You decide you think he’s telling the truth

“How do I know Marc isn’t listening in right now? He cannot find out about this.”

“Relax, he doesn’t even know I exist, ok? I told you I can get you what you’re looking for. And this is how.” He gestures at his body.

Your eyes travel over his body at his gesture, from the cap on his head and the soft brown curls escaping beneath it, to the hard line of his jaw, to his broad shoulders and the way his biceps strain the sleeves of his t-shirt. You’d be lying if you said Marc’s picture didn’t at times drive you to distraction. More than once you’d had to give yourself a release just so you could get back to focusing on your research.

You mentally shake yourself out of it, but if you’re not mistaken, Jake has noticed you looking at him. If the smirk on his face is any indication.

“Are you sure he has it?” you ask him.

He hesitates, then nods. That’s not much reassurance but even if this is a dead end, you have no other leads. You have no choice but to jump feet first. “Alright, what’s the play?”

“I can get you into his flat.”

You’re quiet as you think that over. “Why don’t you just retrieve it from his place and we can make the exchange tomorrow?”

He looks away. “Because I don’t think it’s in his flat.”

You bite back the string of curses that jump on your tongue. “Then what the f-. What good is getting into his place then?”

“He’s got like a thousand maps and papers and shit that might be like, I don’t know, a clue. I don’t know what to look for, but I’m guessing you do.”

You low-key want to strangle him for this shitty lead, but it’ll have to do. “When can you get me in?”

“Hold on a second,” he says. “Let’s talk payment first.”

“Name your price.”

“5 mil.”

You scoff and glance away. No way in hell you can secure that, not for what he’s giving you. And you feel sick at the idea of overpromising to your boss again. But if Jake doesn’t budge, you’re screwed.

When you look back, Jake is taking you in with his eyes. A chilly breeze rolls in - it’s the first day that summer has given way to fall - and it ruffles the thin material of your shirt sending goosebumps over your arms and causing your nipples to harden. You squirm in your seat under his gaze.

He licks his lips before he says, “I’ll take 1 mil, and the rest… you can pay another way.”

He gazes at you steadily before his eyes fall to your lips. You clench your thighs because you can feel that deep ache start up and you know you’re soaking your panties. It might just be your pussy talking but you’re more than up for paying him this way. And the 1 mil will be easy to get.

He sort of chuckles and you’re pretty sure it’s because the look on your face is pure unadulterated lust.

“I’ll take some of that payment now,” he says and stands up. He grabs his jacket and motions for you to follow.

You play it cooler than you feel, rising and following after him. You’re worried that you’re so wet that there’s a wet patch on the outside of your pants and that people will see. But the thought also turns you on more.

Jake leads you around to the alley behind the cafe. Down the other end is a busy street, and you can see pedestrians stroll by. If they were to look they’d be able to see you, but you’re far enough away they wouldn’t see much. The end closest to you is a walkway but it’s deserted. There’s a building that shields you from the street beyond, but who knows who could be watching from the windows.

Jake closes the distance between you and backs you up against the brick wall of a building. You’re enveloped in his heat when his body comes into contact with yours. He cups your face with both hands and his lips part yours as he sucks one lip then the other before sliding his tongue into your mouth. His lips are softer than you imagined but oh so strong. You have to practically fight to kiss him back. You break away so you can suck on his neck and when you reach the hollow above his collarbone he groans and presses his hips into you. You can feel how big his need for you is through his pants. You can’t help but moan.

You instinctively reach for him, to take him in your hand but he grabs your wrist. With his other hand he pops open the button on your pants and unzips them. He slips his hand into your panties and when he slides his fingers between your folds and feels how wet you are he exhales in a rush. He finds your clit and makes circles around it, starting slow but picking up speed as you clutch his shoulders. Your hips start to buck with how good he’s making you feel. He steadies you and holds you in place. He buries his face in your neck, whispering - in Spanish - about how beautiful you are and placing the softest kisses on your neck.

You can’t stop clenching your thighs around his hand and you know that you’re close. Jake seems to know it too because he abruptly pulls his hand from your pants. You whimper from the loss of his touch and you whimper again when you see him put his two fingers in his mouth and suck them clean of your juices. He grins at you and you don’t think you can take another second without him inside you. You start to undo his pants and he stands still watching your face with half-lidded eyes as you tug them down. Your eyes go wide when you see how thick it is, and not just the head but all the way down. You wrap your hand around him and he lets you stroke it one time before he spins you around. He slides your pants down your legs and you brace yourself against the wall - the rough brick prickling your palms - as he lines himself up behind you. With your pants around your ankles you can’t spread your legs for him and you can feel his thick cock pushing between your thighs.

His arm is wrapped around your middle holding you in place which is a good thing because when he finally thrusts into you, there’s no way you’d have been able to keep steady. You’re so wet for him that you take him well and the fullness of him inside you is oh so satisfying. He slides over that spot deep inside you and before you can stop yourself you cry out. He doesn’t miss a beat before saying, “That’s right. Let them all know what we’re doing back here.”

You wonder if he’s being sarcastic but he sounds so eager you don’t think he is. Another loud moan slips from you as he varies his thrusts and he says, in a voice more strained than before, “Let them know this is the best fuck you’ve ever had.”

That pushes you over the edge and you start to cum over his cock. You reach back with one hand to grip his thigh and he rides you through your orgasm, making sure you feel every last ounce of pleasure with your release. When your body settles and softens, he gently pulls out of you. He pulls your pants up for you and kisses the back of your neck. Both of you are breathing hard and you can feel his heart beating through his chest on your back. After a moment of tenderness he whispers in your ear, “Get on your knees for me.”

You turn to face him and your breath hitches at the look of pure need on his face. You kiss his mouth hungrily and he moans into yours, before you drop to your knees. Small bits of gravel against press through the fabric of your pants, but your whole attention is on his cock, glistening with your juices. You slide your tongue along the base of his shaft all the way up to his head. You love tasting yourself on him. He leans forward to brace himself and you let the motion push his head past your lips. You can’t take him far and he doesn’t push you. You just focus on relaxing your jaw and moving your tongue. You use your hand to work his base and once you get into a rhythm it’s like time ceases to pass and you could worship him forever.

He places a hand gently on the back of your head. You can hear him muttering curses in Spanish which turn into groans as his hand makes a fist in your hair. You don’t stop working him as he starts to release in your mouth. His seed is hot and salty and each spasm delivers a fresh load on your tongue. You suck every last drop from him before you let him pull out. He pulls your head back and your mouth falls open, showing him his seed on your tongue. You love the way he stares as he wipes up your bottom lip with one swipe from his thumb and then releases your hair. You savor his taste for one more moment before you swallow his cum.

He helps you to your feet and he watches your face as he zips and buttons your pants for you. You’re not sure what he’s seeing but he’s wearing the cockiest expression. And fuck, if that doesn’t make you want a second round. He zips himself up and bends to retrieve his jacket. He slips it on and pulls out his driving gloves from the pockets. He steals knowing glances at you as he tugs them on. Then he fetches a piece of paper from his pocket and holds it out to you.

“Meet me at this address at 3am tomorrow.” He pulls you in for a rough kiss. “Don’t forget the cash.”

Masterlist | Chapter 2

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley smut #moonknight fic

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zenni-gotcha · 2 years

Note

Ello! Love your writing!

Was wondering if I could have the gang with a Poetic s/o, as in they speak like they came out of the Victorian Era. Going as far to describe things in intricate detail whenever they can, going along with the phrase "When they speak, instead of words it's flowers coming out of their mouth" Or just simply a very talkative s/o

Just wondering how they'd feel about it, I'd think it would be cute having said s/o describe the members in their own fond way. 🌺 Thank you!

[Hi there! So sorry for the late reply]

Lupin

Here’s the thing, he’ll try his best to keep up

But that attention span of his just can’t

It’s one of those things where he can focus on something for a long time

As long as it’s only one thing, or little things that all clearly relate to each other like when he’s on a job

The problem here is that there are so many words that you use that he doesn’t know, that he gets dizzy

You might have to remember to reword somethings if he doesn’t seem to be catching on to what you are saying

You could best describe him as, “A beautifully focused man, as long as it is something that is easily focused on.”

He might try to argue the description, but only in a playful way as he knows that it’s true

Jigen

He might be able to keep up a bit more than Lupin does

Bit that still doesn’t mean that he won’t complain about it

According to some sources he was raise in the crime family in the Bronx

So, while he might have a certain taste for fancy things, words aren’t one of them

You say what you’re saying in as few words as possible

He actually won’t mind it if the sentence isn’t too flowery, but the minute you start to wax poetic his patience goes out the window

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he doesn’t like you personally, just wishes you were a bit more to the point

That being said, if you speak poetry when he’s drunk? He’ll have done a complete 180º

Because of this he hates that you can accurately describe him as, “A blunt force weapon with the heart of a bouquet.”

Knows deep down that he has at least a bit of a soft spot for softer things, but will die before he verbally admits it

Goemon

He loves it

If the two of you are resting, the breeze blowing gently, while you talk about whatever as poetically as possible?

That’s pure happiness right there

He himself has a taste for the poetic, though he might not show it through speech

There will never be a time where he doesn’t understand you either

Out of the gang, he’s actually the one that paid the most attention in his studies when he was younger

Sure, most of them were on swordplay, but you still have to know fancy words to know the history and legends for the swords, right?

Loves that you describe him as, “As fierce as his sword, but elegant and gentle as a sweet haiku.”

He sees what you did there and he appreciates it

Fujiko

After Goemon, she is the most excited for your poetry/poetic speaking

She could just sit there and listen to you talk for hours

Would also be the one to find actual poetry interesting and not just poetic speaking

She might have a time or two that she might have to ask you what a word means, but knows most of them

Will absolutely melt if you describe her along the lines of, “A goddess who’s beauty and wisdom were not dimmed in the slightest when she took on human form.”

Make sure that you mean it though, and that you’re sure to compliment her smarts as well as her beauty

She’s gotten too many people saying such things to pretend that they saw her that way, that it sort of throws her off when she meets someone who means every word of it and isn’t trying to use her for something

Zenigata

Like Lupin, he’ll get dizzy

But, unlike Lupin he’s not going to be a good about pretending that he knows what’s going on

You’ll just be talking and then see that he’s just sort of glazed over

He likes the way that it sounds though, even if he doesn’t understand you

Like Fujiko he could listen to you for hours, but more so he likes that tone of your voice rather than what you’re saying

He will put effort into learning new words though, during the rare off times he has at the office, little bits at a time right before he goes to bed, when someone else is driving them somewhere, any time that he can fit it in

Let’s you describe him with things like, “As fierce as a hell hound, as protective as a guard dog, and as sweet as a puppy.”

He at least knows what that means

Doesn’t tend to mind other ways you describe him either, because even though he might not know what you’re saying specifically, he knows you wouldn’t say anything hurtful about him

#daisuke jigen x reader #jigen x reader #goemon ishikawa xiii x reader #goemon x reader #fujiko mine x reader #fujiko x reader #lupin iii x reader #lupin x reader #koichi zenigata x reader #zenigata x reader

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journeyofthemoonprophet · 11 months

Text

When the tears finally slow down, your body and spirit feel like lead. Is it always this hard to catch your breath after a crying fit? It certainly hurts to do so against your already aching ribs. You’re definitely on your last remaining threads, your grief having drained you of what precious energy you had left to begin with.

Akemi busies herself with trying to keep you awake, doing her best to be comforting at her tiny size. At one point, she busies herself picking out the leaves and twigs caught in your hair, saying that she’s too small to tend to your wounds, “but at least this’ll make you feel a little better.” You can’t tell if it’s working or not, but at the very least, you appreciate the sentiment.

Maybe you should be a bit more embarrassed, wearing yourself out wailing like a child, but honestly you’re too exhausted to care. You’re already the lowest you think a man can go at the moment.

The minutes seem to stretch into hours (though that might be the fatigue kicking in full force), but you finally hear movement from much larger feet. “Ah! Ikken’s back!” Akemi climbs your shoulder to slap her little hands against your face, hoping to make you just a little bit more alert. “Waka, look, he’s brought the Oina with him!” She scales your head as you look up, but the moment your eyes focus, you freeze.

Three of the wolves from the village are once again staring you down, clearly just as shocked to see you as you are them.

“You!” the leader barks, and you can’t tell if he’s surprised, irritated, or both. He wants to react further, and probably would have if there wasn’t a poncle balanced on his nose. Everything aches again as you flinch, and as you grit your teeth it starts to sink in that, if things go south, you won’t be able to escape this time.

“If you you wish to kill me,” you manage, “at least grant me some last words...”

“Wait, what?” Akemi tries to lean over enough to look you in the face. “No, Waka, remember? Ikken went out to bring back help!” You can feel her bouncing on your head, maybe trying to get the other’s attention. “The Oina are here to help, right?”

You squint a bit more at the glowing spot on the wolf’s snout, and amid the warm yellow light, you can just pick out the shape of a poncle wizened with age. Unlike Akemi’s butterfly wings, he wears a beetle shell, a large pair of mandibles jutting from the forehead. This must be Ikken, and something tugs at the back of your mind, though you’re finding your sluggish thoughts struggling to catch up with the ‘what’.

Ikken hums as he takes in both the leader’s and your reactions, then turns around to look the wolf in the eye. “Explain.”

“We found this man near Lake Laochi’s gate, reeking of demons,” the bear masked wolf starts curtly. “When we questioned him, he fled instead of answering--”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Akemi shouts, and you can nearly hear the steam whistling out of her ears. “He smells like demons because he was attacked by them, dummy!” She hops down from your shoulder--is she... really brandishing a twig from your hair? It’s nearly twice her size, but it doesn’t bother her as she waves it menacingly. “If you’re just gonna be bullies...!”

“Either way, this is a bad omen,” Ikken muses, turning back to study you once more. You must look like a fright: skin and clothes bloodied and torn, eyes red with tears and hair a wild mess. It must be easy to tell what kind of luck you’re now carrying with you. “With the demons now running loose, the gods will need their people’s faith more than ever.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m going to have to appoint the next Celestial Envoy soon... I fear I’m growing much too old for this duty.”

The tugging thoughts suddenly snap forward with a gasp. It’s as a if a final piece has clicked itself into place, the picture becoming sharp and clear. That feeling in the back of your skull fully flutters to life, dropping down into your throat. You finally know who it’s for.

“Ikken...” You force yourself to sit up a little further, gritting your teeth as a wave of dizziness washes over you. “I have a prophecy for you.”

The word brings everyone from arguments to stunned silence, and to your shock the wolves shift into... people. The masked visages of animals are now pulled down over their faces, and the bear-faced leader is now holding Ikken in his hands. You’re stunned silent yourself, wondering if maybe now is when your injuries are making you delirious, but you’re snapped out of your thoughts when Akemi’s bouncing light catches your eye.

“Right, right! Waka said he had a vision in the forest.” She bounces closer to Ikken, trying to get his attention. “That’s why the gods guided him here!”

“An oracle...?” Ikken hops down from the bear-faced man’s hands, approaching with all the authority of a man your size. His head tilts back, and while your vision’s swimming too much to see his face beyond the glow, you can feel his eyes fully focused upon you. “I am listening.”

You nod, shifting to steady yourself. With a deep breath, your senses flood over once again as you speak. “... I foresee a proud beetle’s horn,” you report, “inspired to paint a holy face in red ink.”

The vision’s weight slips off of your chest with a sigh, the voices around you blurring even further with the breath. Ikken hums as the masked figures murmur to each other, and you think he’s rubbing his chin in thought? It’s hard to tell at his size, especially with your vision dimming.

“A beelte’s horn,” his muffled voice repeats. “Do you possibly mean Ishaku...?”

You don’t answer. Your job is done, and your body knows it. Akemi calls your name, and the world goes dark before you even hit the ground.

#Okami #Waka #Waka Okami #Okami fanfiction #Okami Waka #Journey through Nippon #And thus Waka finally hits the wall #The post-breakdown crash is v real #Combine it with the injury and prophecy wombo combo and it's lights out for a bit

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baraqi · 2 years

Text

enha’s reaction to a s/o who loves plushies

this has been marinating in my drafts n i just finished it so here’s some fluff

heeseung

loves ittt. prolly would give u his if he was cleaning out his things and finds one he can do without but wants it to go to a special home. bc who would take care of them better than his own special girl/boy? which then ends up being ur favorite and taking a spot on ur bed like a king. and it makes his heart all fuzzy seeing u fall asleep with it in ur arms or treating it so gently. almost jealous bc he wants to cuddle u while u sleep :’). so he’ll carefully move it up so it’s still in ur reach but allowing him to slip next to u n gives u a kiss on ur forehead while u snuggle into his chest.

jay

thinks it’s adorable. knows all of their names, where u got them, which ones u sleep with most, he’s got this shit DOWN. starts to have his own favorites too. if ur watching movies or smth u both grab one or a few to keep alongside. “nono i need stitch i always have him🙄” and would buy a lot of the bigger ones/ones that can be used as cushions too (he’s the poster boy of the bf who stops at nothing to win a big plushie for his s/o). sometimes if he wants to kiss u he turns the ones near him around bc “how can i focus on kissing you while hello kitty’s eyes are burning into my skull” “jay i doubt she cares who’s she gonna tell with no mouth?” “you seen how toy story works!”

jake

when he sees ur room, u look at him for his reaction, expecting his eyes to widen or a perplexed “woah” or smth. he just looks around and goes “hehe cute” and pats ur head. wouldn’t say anything else abt it. he had come by to help u study so u guys would do that for a while until u excuse urself to go to the bathroom. he’d sit there for a second just fidgeting a bit until he looks at a lil dog one that was on the chair. he holds it n just looks at it, smiling at the little name “jake” on the back of its collar. u come back and u feel ur cheeks grow hot bc u never told him abt that. “is this lil guy named after me?” “sorry if it’s weird-” “no i like it! he’s cute. his fur’s the same color as my hair too!” would buy u mainly dog ones bc cmon he’s a dog person. you’d probably have a special spot where u keep the ones he’s given u. refers to them as u guys’ kids. “this family of ours is getting large, jakey.” “get a bigger couch then because we’re not disowning them🙄.”

sunghoon

he doesn’t get it 100% but still likes how they make u happy, so he’s happy too. if he’s over ur place and absentmindedly tossing a small one back and forth in his hands you’ll whine at him to stop bc “you’re hurting his feelings i bet he’s getting dizzy” “love, he can’t feel dizziness” u ruffle his hair and he laughs. he’d point around ur room asking their names and where u got them bc he loves seeing u talk abt smth you’re passionate about. in the middle of ur sentence he’ll lean in to kiss u softly on ur lips bc he thinks u look so cute going on and on. when u both pull away he laughs at ur astounded face n tells u to finish ur story.

sunoo

he’d love it idc. idk if he actually does but i feel it in my spirit he has his fair share at home. brings one or two if he’s staying over once he finds out so they can “get to know each other.”

“if tokki doesn’t get along with them i’m afraid this relationship will not work🙄”/j. another one who does that thing where he makes the plushies kiss u even if u find it cringey.

if he’s out and sees one that reminds him of u or that you’ve talked abt, he’ll buy it without a second thought. he loves being able to add to ur lil collection. he’ll come home like “i have a present for you close your eyes and hold out your hands (⌒▽⌒)” so u do and u feel smth soft placed in ur hands. u open ur eyes and smile at the plush fox u hold in front of u. “aaa thank you sunny thank you thank you!” u say in excitement as u bring him in for a big hug, his face breaking out in a bright smile. and idk if they’re in korea but build a bear dates with him☹️☹️

jungwon

found it a lil odd/didn’t see the appeal at first but quickly grew used to it bc he loves u ofc. it’d take more than some stuffed bears to change his view of u. ur not hurting anyone and it makes u happy so who is he to judge? would buy u one sometimes for special occasions or just because. if u name one after him he’d be so smiley and honored bc wow! ur thing that u love and u want him to be a part of it! dimples out n all.

niki

it was his first time over ur house. u guys go into ur room and the first thing he notices is a few on ur bed and a bunch others scattered around the room. “friends of yours?” he nods towards a couple on the chair. u laugh “sorry if it’s weird.” he reassures u that it’s not. ik he’s got that curious george one so if he sleeps over he brings him so u don’t feel awkward being the only one sleeping with one. he’d poke fun at u a lil bit sometimes, or hold one above ur head so u can’t reach to see u pout n whine at him to give it back, but at the end of the day, he thinks it’s super cute n loves all the things that make u happy!

#enhypen reactions #enhypen soft hours #enhypen fluff

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twilight-orchid · 3 years

Text

How the Undatebales React After A Fight

Thank you to my friendo @wholelottatiffy who helped me brainstorm this one. I’m only on chapter 19 at the moment, so I haven’t interacted with anyone but Diavolo much. And thank you to everyone who wanted a follow up to my previous post, I did not expect that. Y’all are super sweet!

tw: Fighting (a bit more in depth than my first post), description of panic attack, minor name calling, insecurity, depression, angst with resolution.

Diavolo:

Diavolo doesn’t know what to do with himself.

To start, we need to talk about how the argument unfolds.

He’s not used to arguing.

He’s Lord Diavolo, Prince of The Devildom, head of the RAD student council. No one defys him on anything.

So you raising your voice at him, trying to get him to see your way,

It was very overwhelming.

He tried to reason calmly with you at first, but he felt cornered.

When fight or flight kicked in, his body chose fight.

His wings burst open in all their glory as he screamed back, his towering frame far more intimidating than yours.

The blind rage is slapped out of him when he sees your terrified face.

If you’re at the castle, he’ll order you to leave if you haven’t already. Anywhere else, he’ll turn and leave without a word.

He wants to put distance between you both for fear of making things worse.

He absolutely cannot believe he just blew up at you. He would have never thought he'd raise his voice at his partner regardless of the situation.

He can’t shake the image of you flinching from him from his mind.

Now, being the prince of hell certainty has it’s perks; He has power, influence, and everything he could want.

But the one thing he wants the most seems to evade him no matter what: a friend.

A real friend.

He has Barbatos and Lucifer, but it’s Barbatos’ job to accompany the prince, and Lucifer is bound to Diavolo whether he likes the future king or not.

MC was the first person who chooses to be with and around him for no other reason than the fact that they love him.

And now he’s terrified them. Gotten in their face and screamed at them.

He assumes he’s permanently driven you away.

As soon as you leave or he gets home, he rushes to find Barbatos. To explain what happened and hope his butler would know what to do.

He’ll text Lucifer and ask him to check on you as well.

He just feels lost.

He wanders the palace aimlessly and he can’t focus on his work without his thoughts drifting to you.

He doesn’t feel like going to school or even getting out of bed. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone - to put on a happy face and pretend his world isn’t shaking.

Yet, a prince has his responsibilities. He will go about his normal public appearances as usual, smile and laugh and carry on, but it’s a mask.

Those close to him clearly notice the prince isn’t himself.

After school he visits the spots that you two visit together frequently.

Anything to make him feel as if you are still at his side.

If you don’t sleep in his bed that night, he’ll take it as proof that he was right and that you don’t want to be with him anymore.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He clutches your pillow that still smells of you and just bawls.

He will tell Barbatos he feels unwell the next morning and to postpone his obligations for the day.

This prompts Barbatos to seek you out and see if he can help resolve the issue.

Barbatos tries to stay out of your relationship as he doesn't feel it's his business, but his job is to assist Diabolo in any way necessary. And right now, he needs you more than anything.

If you sleep at his side still, it will be a glimmer a hope. That all may not be lost.

He’ll give you you space that night. He’ll walk around you on eggshells but always watch you from the corner of his eye to gauge the temperature.

He avoids your gaze, stays on the other side of the room as you prepare for bed, and as much as it kills him, doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight.

He spends the night staring at your sleeping face and making silent promises that, if you forgive him, he will never let this happen again.

He thinks of how to apologize. What he could say, what he could do.

Ultimately though, it feels like everything he could think of is too little of an apology.

He pretends to be asleep when he sees you stir and decides to let you choose if you want to forgive him on your own.

You will have to approach him first.

He thinks losing his temper with you was unacceptable and feels like he has no right to ask for your forgiveness.

Worse, he’s terrified of not being given forgiveness.

Thus, I feel a fight with Diavolo will take as long as you let it. He’s willing to suffer as long as you need him to.

Barbatos:

Barbatos doesn’t argue. He sits quietly and watches you, his responses calm but absolute.

He’s no pushover, he will defend his side, but he’s not going to enter a screaming match. It’s just not him.

You know you’ve really gotten under his skin when he offers a tight, forcefully pleasant smile.

He finally shuts down the conflict with "It's your right to feel that way just as it's mine to disagree." And leave it at that.

Post argument, he will avoid you and lock his feelings about the fight inside.

He tells himself he doesn’t have time to deal with the terrible feeling clawing at his heart and takes to his duties as an escape.

If you sleep in another room, he realizes that this isn’t a minor disagreement and he’s suddenly very distressed.

His instinct is to use his future vision.

To scour the timelines and see how the different versions of himself handle it and to replicate the one with the most desirable outcome.

However, he stops himself. He feels it isn’t fair to you.

You have a right to be upset about things and he doesn’t want to manipulate the situation, and by extension, you.

Thus, he must find another way to cope.

He’s always a devoted butler, but it’s not his whole life.

He takes time for himself throughout the day and in the evenings. Unless Diavolo needs him, nights are usually his to do with as he wants.

Now, however, his identity becomes Diavolo’s butler.

He’s constantly asking for extra work and hovering more than usual around the young lord in hopes of being given a task.

Diavolo finds it odd and asks about it, but he brushes it off. This isn’t anyone else’s business, least of all his employer’s.

Even though Barbatos won’t tell him, Diavolo can clearly tell his friend is off.

In hopes of giving him something to distract himself with, Diavolo requests hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies and Barbatos jumps on the opportunity.

Baking has always been his escape as well as his happy place. Diavolo’s favorite isn’t easy to make, so he looked forward to the task.

And it worked. Keeping track of the ingredients, the steps, and the technique required was enough to occupy his mind.

But then it was time to wait for it to bake.

He suddenly feels trapped in the suffocating silence of the kitchen.

His mind replays the argument on repeat as he falls down a rabbit hole of what ifs.

He loves you more than anything and the last thing he could ever want is for you to be mad at him.

No, the worst thing would to no longer be able to call you his.

Suddenly, he becomes aware of the sharp scent of burnt food.

He jumps up and runs to the oven. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the timer go off.

He pulls the blackened desert out, puts the cookie sheet on the stove top, and just stares at the burnt cookies.

His sight blurs and a soft sob escapes from the prison he’s created in his heart.

He wasn’t crying because he burnt the cookies, but because they were a visual representation of everything he’s been trying to suppress.

Once he collects himself, he knows he can’t continue like this.

He doesn’t want to invade your space in case you’re still mad, but he needs a resolution.

He’ll send a quick text and silently begs you to respond.

“MC, I understand if you are still upset with me, but would you be willing to talk though it? I look forward to hearing from you.”

If you still sleep with him that night, it is a great weight off of his shoulders.

He hopes it means that it will be easier to make up with you and that you aren’t too mad.

When you wake up, he will be watching you like he has all night with a small, tired smile.

He’ll put on your favorite tea as you get ready for the day then asks if you’d be willing to talk things over.

Because of how it affects both his job and himself, a fight with Barbados will not last long. He’ll seek a resolution by one, maybe two days tops.

Solomon:

Lucifer may be the avatar of pride, but Solomon can certainly give the demon a run for his money.

In the moment of a particularly heated argument, he absolutely will not admit he’s wrong.

In fact, he really doesn’t consider it a possibility.

There’s no point in trying to get him to see your side until things have calmed down. It’s like talking to a brick wall.

He won’t yell, but he gets a pissy, condescending tone and almost talks down to you.

If you really push his buttons, his patience with this “useless” argument runs out.

“Oh please, listen to yourself! You’re acting like a dull child!”

Freezes as soon as it leaves his mouth.

He didn’t mean to say that.

He opens his mouth to apologize immediately, but upon seeing your hurt reaction he becomes flustered and can’t get the words out.

He’ll simply turn and leave.

He’s absolutely furious with himself.

Solomon is old and wise. He’s seen many things, been many places, and he knows many things.

Sometimes though, he needs a reminder that he doesn’t know everything.

Even if he still feels he was right, he knows name-calling is unacceptable.

In fact, he doesn’t miss the irony that he was the one being childish.

His self-fury is replaced by overwhelming worry if you sleep in another room that night.

Of all the treasures he’s come across, none were as precious as you.

He can’t stand the thought of losing you because of his thoughtlessness.

For once, he feels like an idiot.

He locks himself in his study that night and brainstorms on how to make it up to you.

He decides to approach you in the morning at RAD. He’s terrified that you think he actually meant the insult and wants to clear the air as soon as possible.

He’s afraid of you taking anything less than his highest praise to heart or for you to think that he views you as below himself.

The thought of how he must have made you feel makes him sick to his stomach.

The more he thinks about it, the more his body demands that he act.

While he has many virtues, patience is not high on his list.

Assuming you returned to The House of Lamentation that night, he’ll text Asmo to explain what happened and asks if he’d let him in first thing in the morning.

Thus, when you leave to head for breakfast, be careful not to trip over your sorcerer who’s seated against the wall outside of your room.

He scrambles to his feet, his hair and clothes a mess and bags heavy under his eyes.

“MC! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just- *sighs* I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Would you be willing to discuss the matter again? The right way this time.”

If you do sleep with him, he’s at least relieved that you don’t seem like you plan to leave him.

Once again, however, he wants to clear the air as soon as he can.

You’ll both be sitting in silence as you get ready for bed. He’s clearly lost in thought, his eyes focused unblinking on his feet and any movements slow and disjointed.

He's not sure how to apologize, if it's too soon, and is afraid to make things worse if it's not an appropriate time.

However, seeing you move about the room he decides to risk it so he doesn't risk losing you.

Suddenly, he stands up straight and locks eyes with you.

“MC, we don’t have to talk about the fight tonight, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”

It’s up to you if you want to forgive him immediately, but he will at least apologize for the insult as soon as he gathers his thoughts.

Simeon:

If you yell at him, Simeon is just gonna sit there stunned

Your relationship is usually as laid back as he is, so he doesn't know what to do with you blowing up at him.

All he knows it that this is bad and he needs to find a way to make you happy again.

The thought of losing you takes precedence over everything and, though he will not sway to your side just because you’re upset, the argument loses any worth it had to him.

He’ll go to Solomon almost immediately in hopes your fellow human might know better about how arguments are resolved between human couples.

He becomes very distressed when Solomon says everyone handles it differently. He then asks what he should to make up with you specifically.

He doesn't have a defined emotion right now, he's just on edge. He wants to gather information first and foremost so he can figure out what to do from there.

He’s just a walking ball of anxiety and those close to the angel even become concerned. No one has seen him like this before.

If you decide to sleep in another room, the anxiety just takes over.

His chest feels like fiery chains are crushing his ribs, he can hear his heart is hammering in his head, and his body begins to shake as if he were buried in an avalanche.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying as he struggles to breathe.

Solomon had expected something like this may happen so he made sure to be nearby to help coach him though it.

Once he’s calmed down, Solomon urges him to talk to you as soon as possible.

Simeon isn't sure though. True, he wasn't in a good place, but he didn't want to push you if you weren't ready to talk.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t feel like he can think let alone coherently tell you how he feels.

He begins to feel overwhelmed again and decides to try writing down his thoughts in hopes of it helping him sort through the tsunami of emotions consuming him.

While it doesn't completely calm him down, it does help.

He stares down at the messy, tear blotted papee and has an idea.

The next morning you should expect to find a hand-written letter slipped under you door.

The letter is long and and rambling. His usually pristine handwriting is as shaky as his hands were when writing it.

It's not as dense and heartbroken as his original one, but the further it goes the more desperate his words become.

He writes about how much you mean to him and apologizes for allowing things to get that intense. He writes that he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.

He reminisces about his favorite memories of you two together more than once.

Finally, that no disagreement you two could ever have is more importantly to him than being with you.

It's really just a collection of everything sitting on his heart at the moment.

That day at RAD he’ll watch you from the sidelines and pray you approach him about the letter so you two can work things out.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’ll be very conflicted about if he should approach you yet.

He’s afraid of making it worse if you’re still mad.

However, Simeon is an open book when it comes to his emotions so you will absolutely be able to tell that he’s freaking out.

So please, save the man a terrible night and talk it though with him.

He wants you to not be angry anymore, but even if you’re still upset just having concrete information to cling to will help him immensely.

He’s thinking of all the worst case scenarios and needs reassurance that the relationship isn’t over.

Simeon will try to make up within a day, so however long it lasts after that is up to you.

Luke (MC is his best friend):

Luke will be very, very distressed.

You’re his best friend aside from Simeon. Friends don’t fight like this, right?

Wait, so if you’re fighting with him, does that mean you’re not his friend anymore???

As soon as the thought enters his mind, he decides that must be the case.

Real friends don’t fight with each other like this.

Externally he takes a “I don’t need a lousy human like you for a friend anyway” attitude.

He’s not just testy with you though, anyone who interacts with him that day learns that chihuahuas bite.

Simeon immediately realizes something isn’t right and is very concerned.

As soon as he asks him what’s wrong, Luke's mask of anger is discarded and he tosses himself in the older angel’s arms crying hysterically.

He doesn’t want to lose you for a friend.

I doubt Luke has ever truly argued with someone so this uncharted territory is earth shattering to him.

Simeon, as he tries to calm Luke, he will text you and ask you to come to wherever they are immediately.

Because of Simeon’s intervention, the fight will only go undiscussed for a few hours max.

Again, sorry if I don’t know these characters as well as I’d like yet. Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #Obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #obey me luke #obey me undateables #obey me headcanons

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softxsuki · 2 years

Note

hey uhm this is random but can I make an urgent request? I haven't been well mentally bc finals are coming up at uni and I feel overwhelmed. Just wanted to kindly ask you if you can make a drabble with Denki since he's my comfort character, I don't want the exams topic to be mentioned just some fluff with Denki. It could be anything like spending the day together, playing video games idc I just want some of the fluffiest fluff with my baby denks🥺❤️❤️❤️

Playing Video Games With Kaminari

Pairing: Kaminari x Gn!Reader

Warnings: bit of brief description of kissing lol

Genre: Fluffffffffffffff

Post-Type: Drabble

Word Count: 780

Summary: In which you and Denki play video games in his dorm room together

[A/N: Hello lovely! Of course I can write this urgent request for you. I wish you the best of luck with your finals, I know how stressful they can be :/. Sorry for the delay with this request though! I hope I'm not too late D: Hopefully Denki can cheer you up with all the fluff in this drabble <3. Thank you for all your support and make sure you take breaks in between studying so you don't feel so overwhelmed. You got this!]

“Oh come on! I was so close!” You hear your boyfriend, Kaminari, yell from his dorm room as you walk by.

Having nothing else to do for the day, you creak his door open and make your way inside, closing it behind you.

“Denki?”

As soon as he hears your voice, his head whips around. At the sight of you, he pauses his game and sends you a huge smile. Kaminari is the epitome of an excited puppy whenever he sees you--he’s immediately jumping up from the floor to greet you.

“BABE!” He cheers, wrapping you in his arms and drowning you in kisses, making it nearly impossible to escape his arms–not that you were complaining.

You end up having to push him away to get some air, laughing at his cuteness; he certainly knew how to make you smile straight away.

“I heard you yelling from the hallway. What were you playing?” You ask as he reaches for your hand.

“Just this new game that I got, it’s a lot of fun.”

“Can I play?”

*Insert excited noises* You don’t even need to repeat yourself, he’s already dragging you over to where he was sitting earlier, placing you between his legs and passing you a remote. He doesn’t care whether his solo game saved or not, he quits immediately, goes to the home screen, and loads up the multiplayer version of the game and helps you connect your controller so you could play together.

His arms wrap around your waist as he holds his own controller in his hands, explaining each of the controls you’d need to use for the game, along with a brief summary of what the mission of the game was. Luckily you pick up on how to play fairly quickly and even end up surpassing Kaminari’s skills.

“Babe you just walked right past me! Why didn’t you revive me!?” He whines behind you, pointing desperately at his fallen player that was crawling towards your own player for help.

You laugh, but quickly revive his player, “Did you really die again?”

“Stoppp don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” he pouts.

“Okay okay I’m sorry,” you quickly turn around to kiss his pout, which instantly cheers him up.

Gaming is one of Kaminari’s favorite things to do, so being able to play games with you brought him a new level of happiness that he could hardly contain. Everything was perfect at that moment. He found himself just admiring your profile–the concentration in your eyes was captivating as you focus on the screen, trying to avoid the enemies in the game. He watches the way your eyes widen whenever you spot an enemy, and smiles at the little shrill screams you let out whenever an enemy manages to hit you–he was whipped. It was part of the reason why he kept dying and why you had to keep reviving him.

“Babe, you’re so good at this,” he praises you, squeezing you tightly in his arms.

“Well, I had the best teacher after all,” you say with a smile, turning around to look at him.

He can’t help it anymore, the way you look at him with the most appealing smile on your face made him weak. He leans in to connect his lips to yours, his game controller now abandoned on the floor beside him. He grabs both sides of your face and gently caresses the soft skin, continuing his attack on your lips, savoring the taste and feeling of them. Your own hands find their way around his neck, now fully on his lap as you lean into his touch, completely consumed by the way his lips felt on your own, moving together in sync.

“Game-Over,” the game says from the TV making the both of you pull away with a laugh.

“Guess we failed,” you say, leaning your head on his forehead.

“Eh it was worth it,” he shrugs, leaving one last peck to your lips before bringing you both to your feet.

“We’ve been playing for a while, why don’t we head to the kitchen to see if anyone’s cooked yet?"He suggests with the tilt of his eyebrow.

“Mmm, yeah. Good idea.”

He shuts his console and TV off before sliding his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together as you both make your way to the kitchen to join the rest of your class. The small bubble you had both created, a world of your own, was now long gone, but the happiness you felt together carried all the way to the kitchen.

Neither of you really realized how happy you made each other, but you’d have plenty of time together to figure it out.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 1/17/2022

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detectivehannibal · 3 years

Text

Studying with Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal Lecter x Student! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cock warming.

Request: Hannibal x fem student reader? She’s trying to focus amd write her exam online but hanni gets horny from watching her?smut pleeeeeeaze

A/N: Disclaimer that the reader is over the age of 18!

Going back to college you finish your education was one of the best and worst ideas you ever had.

There were definitely pros and cons to the situation.

The pros were that you were working toward achieving something that you could use for the rest of your life.

You would be able to consider yourself an expert in your field.

Not to mention the bragging rights.

On the flip side, you were always slammed with work and all the studying you were doing was giving you flash backs to high school.

It didn’t help that you were a perfectionist, and that you would literally study until you fell asleep or Hannibal dragged you away to bed.

Hannibal is more than happy to share his home office with you, allowing you to sit at his large desk and use whatever material you might need.

Hannibal tries not to bother you when you’re studying or working on an assignment.

He’ll poke his head in every so often to make sure you don’t need anything.

He’ll bring you tea, coffee, a snack, etc.

You name it and he’ll get it for you.

Sometimes though, you’ll ask him to come sit with you so you can chat while you work.

You knew that going back to school had taken your attention off of him and he was beginning to feel distant from you.

So you try to reach out to him as best you can.

He’ll pull up a chair and sit next to you.

Sometimes he’ll even do some of his own work and the two of you will work together and make small talk.

He did what he could to lower your stress levels.

He wanted you to be successful.

But sometimes your workload was just too much.

There was one evening particular where you were REALLY stressed out.

Like, you came home and holed yourself up in his office without saying a word.

It sparked him as odd, considering that you always took the time to ask him about his day, no matter what you had to do.

He waited a couple of hours before going to check on you.

He stood near the doorway, watching as you typed furiously on your laptop.

He originally wasn’t going to say anything, but the longer he watched, the more...aroused that he got.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why something as simple as you working hard got him hot and bothered.

He figured it was because he hadn’t really been intimate with you in a while.

That and there was something so attractive about seeing you so focused on something.

He approached you quietly in his socked feet.

He rested his hands on your shoulders carefully, breaking you from your trance.

“Hey, Hanni.” was all you could really muster to say at the moment.

“My love...why don’t you take a break?”

Normally, that was all it took for you to tear away for a bit,

But today you were determined to power through.

“No, I can’t. I’ve got to finish this.”

“You’ve been working for far too long. I really wish you’d take a break.”

His thumbs started rubbing at the tense muscles in your shoulder, making his offer so hard to refuse.

He could see the stress on your face and he could practically smell the tension.

You needed some relief...some stress relief.

“Just 15 minutes. That’s all I ask for.”

His lips had fallen to your neck now, kissing and sucking softly.

A sigh escaped your chest, reluctance coursing through you.

But eventually, you agreed.

Hannibal stood you up from the desk chair, only to sit down himself and pull you on his lap.

You straddled him, the two of you making out and sharing passionate “I love yous”.

You felt bad when you felt how needy his kisses were.

They said nothing short of “I’ve missed you”.

Hannibal started to get handsy, his fingertips teasing the waistband of your shorts.

His hard on was obvious underneath you.

He slipped your shorts off of your legs while you worked on getting his belt and pants off.

He turned you around to where you were facing the desk again, raising you and lowering you down onto his erection.

The moan that you let out was music to his ears.

You went to start moving, but his hand stopped you from doing so.

“Hannibal, what-”

“Go on, darling. Read to me what you have so far.”

He had to be kidding.

He did all this to get you to stop working and now he wanted you to review it?

You tried to shift your hips to get some kind of friction, but he held you extremely still.

You started to read off of your laptop screen.

You were stuttering through it, an occasional curse sounding out.

He was buried deep inside of you.

His tip prodding at your cervix.

He made noises of interest and affirmation as you read, clearly impressed with what you had so far.

He turned down all of your pleas, prompting you to keep going.

You finished reading, ignoring the way that the words had began to blur.

You were begging now.

“Hannibal, please fuck me.”

“But I thought you liked feeling me like this?”

“I do, but...it’s so much better when you’re moving. Please, baby, I promise I’ll be good.”

Finally, Hannibal couldn’t bear to hear your whimpers anymore,

He wanted to make you feel good.

He lifted you off of his dick momentarily to turn you back around.

He took a second to marvel at how you had soaked him.

You barely waited to sink down onto him completely before you started rolling your hips against him.

Hannibal groaned in your ear, his voice rumbling and low.

He guided your hips in a rhythm, loving the way you bounced on his lap.

You angled yourself back a bit so he’d hit your g-spot every time you landed back onto him.

He wanted to get you to a fast, but good orgasm.

His fingers rubbed at your sensitive clit to bring you closer to your finish.

He thrusted up into you hard.

Each new thrust melting away more and more of your stress.

He sucked hickeys on your neck and praised you endlessly.

“You’re so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Such a good girl. You’re so perfect.”

He worked you until you unraveled around him, your release hitting you full force with a flash of white.

He came inside of you, milking your walls white.

Your head fell onto his shoulder as you went limp, too tired to move.

His hands rubbed over your back as your breathings returned to normal.

He left sweet, lazy kisses wherever he could.

Your voice sounded out shortly after, drawing a laugh from him.

“I think...I can stop here for the night.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #Hannibal TV #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x reader imagine #hannibal lecter x female reader #hannibal lecter smut #hannibal lecter headcanons #detectivehannibal

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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struggling-with-time · 3 years

Text

Does your father know? [Sapnap x reader]

Paring: Sapnap x Gender neutral!reader

Summary: A couple of nights out, that the local adults certainly aren't supposed to know about. But definitely does. And the things that happen at those parties. College AU SBI!reader.

Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff

Words: 4.6K

Masterlist: Sapnap's Masterlist - SBI Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: This has been brewing in my head for days, so here it is. Please request if you feel like it. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You are casually chatting along with Karl, and a very drunk Quackity. The music is loud in the house. You don’t remember whose parents own the house, it's more likely it's an involuntary frat house. But it sure isn’t a place you are used to coming to. You can spot Sapnap as he makes his way over to the three of you, and before you know it.

Sapnap pulls you along onto the dance floor, barely giving you time to put your drink down. You are already a good few drinks down and can’t help but feel like floating as he drags you along. A giggle passes your lips as you make your way into the dancefloor.

The music is loud, and while you have never heard this song before, you feel like you know the lyrics to it.

Sapnap places his hands on your hips as the two of you dance.

It’s nice, it’s fun.

It’s not what you are supposed to be doing.

Because as far as your family is aware, you are sleeping nice and soundly at home, and not out drinking and partying.

Well, most of your family, you could have sworn you saw your brother, Wilbur, in the crowd earlier. But what he doesn’t know. Won’t hurt him.

“Having fun tonight?” Sapnap’s voice breaks you away from your though. His face is suddenly a lot closer than before. His warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered. A grin works its way onto your own face.

“With you? Of course.”

It’s loud. It’s warm. It’s crowded.

Yet there is nowhere else you would want to be for the night.

Sapnap pulls away from your ear again, mouthing along to the song that’s playing. And the two of you dance, losing yourself to the crowd. Losing yourself to the music. Losing yourself to each other.

None of you have count on the number of songs that pass by. Each one seemingly bleeding into the next, and your energy never-ending. Your dancing ever the fun.

You can feel his hands as they glided over your body, seemingly exploring all of it. And you enjoy it, egging him on as you dance. You dance only for him. Matching your hips to the rhythm. Your eyes locked on his. His hands locked on you.

A cheeky wink from you timed to the music, is all Sapnap needs for him to pull you close against him once again. His lips ghost over your ear.

“You look great in blue.”

His touch goes from warm to hot, seemingly setting you ablaze. His lips trailing over your neck. Down to your shoulder. From your shoulder back to your neck. His teeth grazing over your neck lightly before he continues back up to your ear.

You can feel him whisper something to you, but you have lost most senses. Only able to focus on his touch. As his fingers grip you tighter.

He pulls his face back, and you lock eyes with him. A smirk is eminent on his face.

It’s clear to him, it’s clear to anyone taking a glance at you. He is driving you wild.

His left-hand leaves your side to cup your face. He pulls you in slowly, and you more than willingly follow along. His lips ghosting over yours once more. For a second, it’s just the two of you. Just for a second. But only for a second. Then the spell breaks.

“Fuck.” Sapnap mutters and pulls away. His hands letting go of you completely, and suddenly you are forced to stand on your own. You feel a bit disorientated at the sudden pull back to reality.

Sapnaps eyes are locked on something a bit behind you, a string of curse words seemingly leaving his mouth. You’re unsure if he’s muttering or talking. The music overpowering them either way.

You turn around to find what has brought him to pull away.

And there in the outskirt of the dancefloor stands a tall pink-haired guy, holding a brunette slumped against the pink guy. Or as you formerly know them, your older brothers Techno and Wilbur. They seem to be looking for someone, as Techno seems to be looking through the crowd that has assembled on the makeshift dancefloor.

Sapnap leans over to your ear once again.

“Does your dad know that you are out?” This time he’s yelling, no longer intimate or secretive whispers.

“No!” You yell back to him.

“Do you think they’re looking for you?”

Techno catches your eyes and raises a hand. Answering Sapnaps question for you.

You manoeuvred your way through the dancing crowd, leaving Sapnap alone. Approaching your brothers. You cast a glance back to where you stood, Sapnap already gone in the crowd. You try not to look disappointed, as you look back at your brother, but one raised eyebrow from Techno is enough to tell you, you failed to do so.

“Drunk?”

“Drunk.”

You sigh, as you guide Wilburs arm over your shoulder, and the three of you head into the night and down the street. A couple of minutes passes, and Wilbur starts to mumble about his big plans for the future.

You and Techno share a laugh at your brother's expense in the night. The inevitable scolding from Phil far away in the future.

It takes you exactly three weeks before you have done enough chores to get ungrounded. Although all three of you had snuck out in the middle of the night. You and Techno had been responsible enough to bring Wilbur home without trying to drive, and you had even woken Phil up yourself when you got home. Although you were pretty sure he had heard you from the moment you had stepped through the door. And Wilbur had decided that the hallway would be a perfectly good place to take a nap.

But that was three weeks ago, and now is now.

You have the clothes you want to wear in your backpack, along with your laptop and a physics book to make it believable.

While you don’t pride yourself on being a party animal, it doesn’t hurt to participate when invited. And especially not when Sapnap himself invites you.

“Bye Dad!” You yell out as you pass the kitchen. Phil sitting on his laptop, with Tommy beside him looking close to crying in frustration over homework, and Wilbur seemingly trying to cook something up. Keyword trying.

“Wait up!” Phil yells out, making you stop in your track. “Come in here.” You slowly backtrack your steps, making you stand in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He squints his eyes at you, before looking you up and down. Tommy mouths ‘someone is in trouble’ to you. And you resist against, in all better judgement, to hit him.

Instead, you lift your backpack, “Study session at Karls, remember? I’m staying over for the night.”

Wilbur decides now is the perfect time to join the conversation, a playful look on his face. He knows exactly what’s going to be happening at Karls place tonight. Despite still being grounded, you know you will see him there later tonight.

“Study session huh? I thought you had study group on Wednesdays?” Wilbur brings a hand up to mimic a thinking position.

Fuck.

“I do!” Was that too quick? You look back at Phil, “I do.” You repeat yourself, “It’s just for my physics lecture, got a test on Monday.” Phil seems to not completely buy it. “Besides Dad, I am ungrounded after all, you said so yourself yesterday.”

Phil hums. “I did say that…” He looks you over once more. “Alright. At least let Techno or Wil drive you.”

That decision is easy enough for you.

“TECHNO! DAD SAYS YOU HAVE TO DRIVE ME!” You yell into the house. You swear you can hear your brother grumble about having to drive you from upstairs. But you elect to ignore it.

You look back over at Wilbur who is now discarding his apron in favour of getting out of the house. He knows if he can play his cards right, he can make Techno stop at the music store. And he might just be able to catch his totally secret girlfriend Sally for a couple of minutes. Not like he won’t be seeing her tonight.

You listen as Techno walks down the stairs. Now audibly complaining about being the only responsible driver in the house.

You would drive yourself, but having one car for four people to share isn’t exactly great. You tried having a driving plan once that you could put yourself on when you needed to borrow the car. It ended up with a month of Wilbur hogging the car. So now instead, you all just always drive each other around like soccer moms.

Techno looks annoyed at you as he passes the kitchen. But you know if he was truly annoyed he just wouldn’t have come down at all.

You turn to follow Techno into the hallway but are still able to overhear Phil questioning Wilbur on where he is going.

“To drive with them of course.”

“You’re still grounded.”

“C’mon Dad, Phil, Philza, it’s just a drive, it’s not like I would be seeing anyone.”

“Fine.” Despite not being able to see Phil, you know your dad is trying his best not to smile at Wilbur’s antics. “Just a drive. You probably need to get out of the house anyway.”

And that’s enough for him to end in the backseat of the car. Tagging along.

You automatically go for the AUX, as the designated DJ in the front seat. You barely get to press play, before Wilbur has started a conversation. A conversation that is closer to an interrogation.

“So Karl’s place to study, huh? Nothing to do with what’s going to happen tonight at all?”

“Oh please.” You turn your head to look back at Wilbur. “As if you won’t be there too.”

“Techno is gonna be there too!” Wilbur whines, as if it would make the situation any better.

“Wait, really?” You look over at Techno, turning forward in your seat once more.

“Yeah, Dream won at practice the other day.”

“How?” “You lost?” You and Wilbur speak at the same time.

“The guy put oil on my sword, so I dropped it.”

You snort, and Wilbur laughs. “So much for Techno Blade never loses.”

“Oh, shut up the two of you. At least I’m not grounded.”

“Hey!” Wilbur shouts.

The car ride passes with sibling banter, and a couple more jabs at each other before you are pulling up to Karls house. You quickly get out and yell a quick “See you later!” before heading over to the front door. You smile to yourself as you overhear Wilbur asking if they can stop by the music store as he changes from the back seat to the front seat.

You listen as the car pulls away, and you get to ring the doorbell.

A flustered Karl throws open the door. Loudly greeting you, before pulling you into a hug.

“You made it! I didn’t think you would, but then again Sapnap did invite you. But you did say no the other couple of times and-”

“I get it Karl, but I’m here now.” You smile at him, letting him breathe. He giggles. “Can I come in?”

“Oh yes! Of course! Of course! Come in.” Karl guides you into the living room, closing the door after you. You stand awkwardly in the doorway until Karl grabs your wrist and leads you over to the sofa telling you to sit down.

You kinda expected more people to be here. But instead, you are met with the familiar faces of Karl and yours friend group. Not to mention a couple of Wilburs friends. Not that the small town is big enough for everyone close in age to not already know each other. The community college isn't exactly helping either.

You can already feel tonight will have a different feeling than last time. Way more down to earth, and way more chill.

Quackity falls into the seat beside you and offers you a drink, which you happily take. “It’s nice to see you not all dressed up you know.” He tells you. Suddenly you’re happy you didn’t change at home, not that you had much of a choice.

“Yeah, it’s nice not to be all dressed up.” You say, taking a sip, as you eye your backpack that was placed against the wall in the living room.

“I hear both your brothers are gonna be here later. I can’t believe Phil just lets you guys go out. My mom thinks we are studying for English class.” Quackity complains. "I hate still living at home."

“Oh no, you have it all wrong, Phil doesn’t.” You laugh, a bit dry, but it is what it is. “He thinks I’m here for a study session for my physics lecture, Wilbur is still grounded for the last time the three of us was out, and Techno is only coming because he apparently lost to Dream at fencing practice.”

Quackity snorts, “Techno lost to Dream?”

“I know! That was my reaction too.” The two of you share a laugh.

“I can’t believe the Minecraft household is filled with degenerates.” He feigns a disappointed tone.

“You aren’t that much better.” Sapnap buts into your conversation. You hadn’t noticed him walking in. Quackity lifts his hands in defeat and gets up from the couch. Only for Sapnap to quickly takes his place.

“I’m guessing by that your dad doesn’t know about tonight either.” He teases you, and you look away for a moment, your purple drink suddenly very interesting.

“He does, sorta, not. He thinks we are here to study.” You give Sapnap a weak smile, and he chuckles at your antics.

You barely miss him muttering, “Cute.” Underneath his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

And then silence falls upon the two of you. You want to keep him talking, of course, you do. How could you not want to? It’s Sapnap.

Every time he speaks, you want to cling to each word and hold it dearly. Instead, you flash him a smile, and he smiles back. Before looking away, and you can’t help but feel a bit defeated at that.

However, you are saved by Karl hooking up his phone to a speaker and way too loud music blasts into the living room.

It takes a good half-minute before the volume is lowered enough for it to be background music, and it takes even longer for anyone to agree on what playlist to be put on.

The afternoon bleeds into the late afternoon, and more people have decided to join. You now share the three-person couch with two more people, leading to you being pressed up again Sapnap. Not that you are complaining.

Wilbur and Sally have arrived too, already sitting on the floor together. Already - as your youngest brother Tommy would say - already sucking each other’s faces dry.

Techno seems to be the last person to join the gathering, bringing beer too. Of course, you can’t help but think. Of all the people he’s the only one of the three of you, that could ever make Phil buy any of you beer.

"Techno is the most responsible of you four."

"C'mon on dad! This isn't fair!"

"Exactly! I understand her, but daaaad we're both 20 why do you want to help him but not me?"

"Shut up Wilbur."

You are in a heated conversation with Karl about the right way to read document history. When you notice a touch on your left side. You stop midsentence, Karl doesn’t notice and keep arguing his side. But Sapnap does.

You can feel a pair of eyes on you, as you look down to see his hand around your waist. Neither of you have talked to each other since the quick conversation. Then Dream and George had each pulled up a chair nearby the couch and the three of them had talked since then.

Suddenly you get hit with the thought, that maybe, despite all better judgement, just maybe. What happened a couple of weeks ago wasn’t just because you were the nearest person. Just maybe it was because Sapnap actually looked your way.

You don’t let the thought get to your head too much, because the second you look at him. He’s back in his conversation with Dream and George about something you don’t really care about from the sounds of it. You shake your head; you must have been imagining stuff. He didn’t look at you.

You get two more drinks in you, as the evening passes on, and Sapnaps hand seems to find its way onto your thigh. You have no intention of getting drunk, but the feeling of Sapnaps hand on you seems near addicting.

It’s nearing midnight when a less than sober Dream suggests a game of Truth or Dare.

Techno complains against it as the only one, stating “We aren’t middle schoolers.”

So you play truth or dare.

The first couple of rounds starts innocently enough, the mood is good. Everyone is having fun. You are enjoying yourself, listening to embarrassing stories, to creating new ones alongside your friends. Finding yourself curling into Sapnaps side just a bit more.

He doesn’t protest or say anything against it, so you take it as a win, and keep leaning against him.

Then a drunk Quackity gets his turn and asks George for his worst hook-up. And the energy in the room changes. From then on the innocent truths and even more naïve dares are out the window. For stories about peoples experiences, and dares that seemingly gets riskier and riskier.

You manage to dodge most questions, keeping to the truth after that point on. Until you are unable to.

“Don’t be boring! Choose dare!” George eggs you on, and you give in. Anyone would give in, you swear the guy has pretty privilege. Most of the living room cheers.

“I have a good dare.” Dream says.

“Too bad it’s not your turn to ask then.” You stick your tongue out at him and turn your attention back to George. When you see the guy motioning for Dream to whisper his dare. “Betrayal George, I will never forgive you.”

“Too bad for you then.” His smile widening the longer Dream keeps whispering. Your worry starts to grow, you are already regretting deeply for giving in to the peer pressure.

Dream retreats and looks satisfied with his idea. George takes a moment to think it over, but it’s clear that he has already made up his mind.

“I dare you…” He clicks his tongue. “I dare you to give Sapnap a lap dance!”

“What?”

“You heard me!” George looks proud of himself, or his idea, or Dreams idea. You don’t know. Your stomach is seemingly doing backflips at the idea, while your head is spinning for the exact opposite reason.

“Chicken?” You try, you don’t notice the desperate look Sapnap is giving George.

“Nope,” George pops his ‘p’, “you’ve been boring all evening with only choosing truth. Besides we're all adults here, c'mon it could be a lot worse.”

You look over at Wilbur, who is more than occupied with Sally. Then over at Karl, who has a teasing grin on his lips, as if he knew this would happen. Then to Quackity, who looks like someone who definitely knew this would happen. Then to Techno, who looks like he could murder Dream. And knowing him, there is a 50/50 chance he’s still mad over losing or that it’s about the idea Dream just proposed.

“He didn’t say it had to be here,” Sapnap says to help you out. “We can just leave.” Your head pecks up at that. He’s right. George didn’t specify where. A smile forms on your face, a smile based on relief.

Dream starts to protest, but you have already grabbed Sapnaps wrist and started dragging him into Karls room.

You miss Techno slapping Dream over the head.

You make Sapnap sit on Karls bed, as you make sure the door is locked. You would rather die than anyone walk in on you. You look around for a speaker, and you barely get your phone out of your back pocket before Sapnap has put his hand on your wrist now.

“Hey, you don’t have to do it.”

You look at him, panic still evident in your eyes.

“What?”

“I said you don’t have to do it.”

“What?”

He smiles at you and tugs you over to sit beside him on the bed.

“For the third time, you don’t have to do it.”

His left-hand cups your head, his right hand has moved from your wrist and into your hand.

“It’s just a stupid game of truth or dare anyway. Techno is right, we aren’t middle schoolers. Fuck, we aren't even high schoolers.”

You smile at him, before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re right. I thought you would want that, though.”

Sapnap leans his head to the side. Asking you to continue.

“I mean, you’re Sapnap. Oh, c’mon on don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” he grins at you now. The air suddenly becoming light around you.

“Please, don’t act like you don’t know. Everyone knows.” You look away for a moment, his hand lightly turns your head back to look at him, and you let him. Although the look you are met with is one of confusion and not the cockiness you were expecting.

You sigh once.

Then twice.

Then once more.

You were really about to do this, in the bedroom of your childhood friend. Jesus.

“Sapnap, seriously. This isn’t funny.”

“What? I feel like I lost the thread somewhere here.” His hand falls from your face, and you can’t help but want to chase it.

“I like you, everyone knows that. This isn’t funny. Seriously. Everyone knows I’m absolutely hopeless for thinking you would even look in my direction.”

You fall onto Karls bed, letting yourself sink into the purple bedsheets.

“Well, I can tell you two things.”

Sapnap falls onto the bed beside you. The two of you now staring into the wooden ceiling that’s decorated with glow in the dark stars.

“And what are those two things?”

“You see, one nobody thinks you are hopeless.” He chuckles a bit at that. “If anything, I’m the hopeless one here.”

You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same to you, giving you a kind smile.

“And now why would you be that?”

“Because two, not everyone knows that you like me, I didn’t.” You return his smile, although you feel a need to look away at the words, you keep eye contact with him.

“Well, now you know, making me right.” You tease or try to. You can feel the air has gone from light, to very heavy suddenly. Barely breathable. And you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, you know what words you hope he speaks next. But yet, you can’t stop expecting to get laughed at and rejected right here.

“I guess, but you see, I would say I’m the hopeless one here. Because I’ve been trying to tell you that I like you for months now.” He covers his face with a hand. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, I sound like a cliché.”

You let out a small laugh, “Yeah, you do a bit. But…”

“But…?” he asks, his hand still over his face, but you can see him peaking through his fingers.

“But I don’t mind it, I think it’s cute.” And now it’s his time to laugh.

Then slowly a silence falls over the two of you. Unlike the one from earlier, this one is saying more than a thousand words, while saying absolutely nothing at all. It’s just two people who like each other enjoying a moment.

“We should probably get back to the others again.” Sapnap breaks the silence, and you take a deep breath at the sudden disturbance.

“Oh yeah, the others.”

“The longer we stay here, the more they are going to wonder what we are doing.” You can’t help but laugh at that.

“You are sadly right Sapnap. You are unfortunately right.”

You groan as you sit back up, offering him a hand that he gladly takes, but instead of you helping to pull him up from the bed.

He pulls you down into his lap once more.

"However..." He starts, "They can wonder all they want."

You can feel his hands on your hips now. As he leans in to start trailing kisses over your neck once more.

Your breath hitches.

His teeth grace your shoulder before you can feel him sucking.

His hands exploring you as you lean into the pleasure.

You start squirming in his lap, and he stops.

"No."

You pause, as his hands quickly leave you.

"No?"

"I am not having my first time with you, with your brothers down the hallway, and my best friends absolutely listening in," Sapnap admits to you.

The statement makes your face heat up, and you try to hide away in his neck. He chuckles at the cute gesture.

"We should get going..." He trails off but makes no moves to actually get up. Just basking in the heat you apply to him.

You sigh, as you get off him, his hand now holding yours.

"Sadly you're right."

He gets off the bed and stands beside you.

However, when you prepare to let go, he keeps your hands entangled, and if you’re honest, you don’t mind all that much.

You unlock the door and head back into the living room. All conversation going stale the second the two of you stand in the doorway.

Dream ever the curious, is the one to break the ice. “Sooo…”

Sapnap lifts your entangled hands, and the room breaks into cheers. And you swore you heard a couple of people mutter finally. You hide your head in your hand, trying to hide your embarrassment alongside it.

Leading you to miss Karl throwing Quackity some money, and George doing the same to Dream.

You lift your head from your hand as you hear Wilbur speak.

“Good luck explaining that one to Dad.” Wilbur laughs, but a smile clear on his lips.

"What?" You say, as you can feel Wilburs eyes burning onto your throat. Your hand quickly coming up to try and cover the clearly evident mark.

A glance at Techno tells you that he too is happy for you, but even more clearly he is on the brink of smugness. Knowing you're going to get in trouble tomorrow.

He has been the one on the end of most of your seemingly endless rants about the moment that happened weeks ago at that party. The one that your brothers ruined, so it felt self-explanatory for them to be on the end of your whining.

Sapnap guides you, as the two of you return to your seats on the couch and the night continues.

Nothing has truly changed, yet it feels like everything has changed.

And somewhere along the night, things did change.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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