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#reader has slight personality but not much
wifeyoozi · 2 days
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Jeon Wonwoo : zip it, strip it
w.c : 2.2 k ┊ synopsis : Wonwoo can't stand his roommate's progressively slutty online shipped clothes anymore┊ content warning : smut , friends to lovers, slight degradation (/slutshaming?) kink, unprotected sex (wrap the willy guys) , Lazada shopping , big dick wonu agenda , reader has slight size kink , oral + fingering (f rec)
a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read and still a little sloppy (the smut part) 😭
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Wonwoo knows he is losing his mind. And it was solely and entirely because of you.
You, his roommate, best friend, and for quite a while now, his one-sided love.
Wonwoo wasn't exactly the most extroverted person. So the way you two became friends was only because you had once stumbled whole ten minutes late to the lecture in your first year college days once, and sat beside him for it was the only empty seat. And somehow you had engaged him in a conversation. And then somehow you had started sitting beside him everyday for the next four years. And then somehow you had just embedded yourself in his life (and heart) like that.
The reason you two decided to get one apartment together was because how much money you could save from rent and groceries with that. And it be fun. Of course it was your idea and your words. But Wonwoo was a sucker in love and he'd blindly agreed for it.
It was a little awkward at first. You always tried to keep your stuff to yourself and not make a mess of the whole house and not indulge too much in Wonwoo's personal space, knowing he was the one who loved to keep to himself.
But the initial formalities wore off eventually. It started with forgetting a half empty coffee mug on the coffee table, no coaster. And then leaving your books on the couch, promising to pick up later to never really doing it. And then mixing your clothes with Wonwoo's in the laundry basket.
But Wonwoo didn't mind any of it.
All of it was just so ... Domestic.
It almost felt like he was married to you. And as much as he tried to stop himself from indulging too much in that thought, it always creeped back up in his mind everytime you fell asleep on his shoulder after your routines sunday movie nights.
His ears grew red everytime he thought of it - you as his wife, in your little home.
And that's the whole problem. You kept making him have fantasies about things he knew he could never have. But he just couldn’t stop.
His patience had really only been tested since very recently. You had recently come across Lazada - the wondrous online shopping platform for cheap and the poor people. “Look the prices are so less, wonu-ya! For a dress that cute!” you’d exclaimed that day, bouncing as you showed him the phone with the lazada tab opened,a cute pink floral summer dress on display. “And the first order has free shipping!”
A few dresses had arrived and wonwoo saw you try out the new clothes one after the other, most of them perfectly fitting your figure. He loved seeing you smile like that, happy over getting good quality clothes at a lower price.
The real problem arose now.
The summer was getting only hotter. And Lazada was on your head like a fever. And you kept ordering increasingly more and more revealing clothes now.
Wonwoo told himself he didn't mind. You were not his something. You were not together. He shouldn’t be deciding what you wear.
But he also felt his jaw tighten everytime he saw you in a new and a more revealing dress ordered online. Saw you twirl on your toes as your little summer skirt flared, showing the sight of your safety shorts inside. Saw you wear a tight thigh-length shiny party dress when you went clubbing with your friends. Saw you sit on the couch with all of your friends in short denim shorts, riding up and up as you sat in all inappropriate positions.
He’s been trying to hold his thoughts a lot, he really is. But he has got a little bit of a limit too, and he really just wants nothing more than to put his teeth on your thighs and your neck and mark them up red and blue. You really don’t know how much power you were holding onto him.
But thats not even all of it.
Since it was summer, you had decided to roam around the house in little satin negligees. Fucking negligees.
The first time you wore it, wonwoo had to stop breathing and take hold of every muscle in his body to not get embarrassingly hard in front of you. It was so tiny, it was just like a little piece of cloth clinging on you. You had given him a little twirl show, “isn’t it so cute? I love its pink colour so much!”
Wonwoo itched to tear the pretty pink off you.
He didn’t though. Because he had a little self-restrain left in him.
He wondered if you were really as innocent as you acted or did you know the effect you had on him. He was a man after all. He swears its like you know how big a crush he has on you. You are just playing with him too much.
Thankfully you didnt wear negligees more often after that, at least when he was at home.
Right now, wonwoo is opening the door to your apartment slowly. It's quite late, he doesn't want to wake you up accidentally.
“Wonu-ya!” you call out from inside your room, “Wonu-ya, ah, great you're home! Can you come in for a bit, please? I need some help.”
Wonwoo hums, taking off his bag on the couch and going inside your room to see what you possibly needed help with and-
His breath stopped, eyes dilating, starting to feel his pants tightening a little.
You were wearing a lacy sheer negligee. Again. And it was even more provocating than last time. It was a deep purple colour, contrasting perfectly with your pretty skin tone. Your bare back was completely exposed to him, your hair pulled aside over your shoulders and the dress completely unzipped. You were looking back at him, a hand reaching back in a way that your pose wasn’t helping making it any less provocating. Your legs were slightly spread on the bed, your silky thighs on perfect view for him with your night shorts fitting you like underwear.
“Wonu-ya, can you help me zip? I can’t reach it!” you pout at him, your lips looking glossed up and puckered out and he wanted nothing more than kiss and bite them red.
No way he was misinterpreting this, no way you were not doing this on purpose.
“y/n, do you realise i am a man?” he wasn’t growling, but he was holding the urge of it.
“Hm, i know,” you say, looking at him with big not-so-innocent eyes, “but i trust you!”
So wonwoo gulps down, and sits behind you on the bed, beginning to zip your dress up. The lace hugs you tighter as he does, highlighting your delicate curves and features. You feel so small under his dark gaze, his big hands could hold the entirety of your waist. He can see your colourbones from this angle and he just wants to bite and kiss all over them so bad.
He unknowingly rests his hands on the curve of your back. His heart is beating loudly, he could feel it in his ears. You lean back into his touch like a satisfied cat.
“y/n,” his voice is angry and restrained, “what are you trying to do?”
You sigh, looking back at him, your gaze seductive from under your dark lashes, “are you really asking? Do i have to say it out for you?”
The grip on your hips tightens. “Are you sure about it?”
More and more you act up like this, more and more he feels like a lusty caveman with no coherent thoughts in his mind other than those of desire. He took a heavy breath as you twisted your your waist to look back at him, your hand snaking up to rest on his chest. He glanced down at your hand, and then involuntarily at your cleavage visible from the thing your call a dress.
“Oh, for fucks sake, Wonwoo, I have not been whoring myself out like this for you to not fuck me!”
“Mark your words,” that was the last sane thing Wonwoo would speak that night before crashing his lips with yours.
You moaned immediately, feeling his rough lips fight against your softer ones. You climbed on his lap, feeling his hardness pushing against your thighs immediately. He kisses you intensely and aggressively, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His mind was fogging up, intoxicated by your taste. Your strawberry lip gloss was on his lips and on his tongue and your arms were tight around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair, playing and pulling it.
The more sounds you made into the kiss, the harder his bulge pressed against you. You pull away momentarily, catching your breath and panting. His glasses were fogged up.
“Shit, Wonwoo, what fucking monster are hiding in those pants,” you mumbled, looking down to his crotch and reaching to touch him, but he holds your wrist before you could.
“You did this to me, baby,” he said, pulling off his glasses, not caring to even see where he threw them, “and I'm gonna make you take care of it.”
You knew how strong Wonwoo was just by looking at his big and built body. But you didn't realise how much that would help making you wetter as he manhandled you and pinned you down on the bed. Both of his knees encaged your hips, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off swiftly.
You chest faltered looking at his gorgeous body. It's not the first time you had seen him shirtless - y'all have had enough beach trips in your friendship for that. But this was different, you could thirst over him now, touch him and feel him up. Besides, he'd built up so much more than when you had last seen his naked torso the time y'all went to pool together.
You mumbled a fuck under your breath, your hand reaching to touch his abs. He chuckled. “Like what you see, huh?”,
Wonwoo doesn't give you a chance to answer, holds your wrist down and hold you down as he attacked your lips with his once again. You whined in his mouth, and that just made him kiss you deeper, hotter, wetter. His kisses went south to your jaw, down your neck. He nipped on the sweet skin of the crook of your neck, sucking and biting and bruising it. Marking it. Marking you.
His hands left your wrists to travel across your body, slipping under your dress and touching your warm waist. His hands are cold against your skin. You hear a tssrrt, and you look down to see Wonwoo ripping off your slip dress, and pulling it apart to expose your bare breasts to the cold air.
He tears apart from neck to look at your tits, and you feel your nipples harden under his gaze. He licks his lips vilely, before grabbing your boobs in his hands. He shoved his face in between the valley of your boobs, taking a breath full of your scent there before taking out his tongue and devouring you like a starved animal.
He looked up at you like that.
And his once so innocently handsome face looking so damn sinful right now, his eyes staring at your with deep lust. “I can't even count the number of times I've secretly oggled at these beautiful things, wanting to do all the ungodly stuff with them. Fuck, y/n.”
You moaned as he took your right nipple in his mouth, sucking harshly as his hands reach to play with your left. Your hands snake up his hair, clutching a handful, tugging it.
You gasp when his hand suddenly slipped down your shorts and panties, touching the skin right above your cunt. “shit, wonu!”
“Fucking slut,” Wonwoo mumbled against your skin, “making me desperate for you for so long, just because you're a cockslut.”
“Only for you,” you mutter under your breath, as Wonwoo's fingers inch downwards.
Wonwoo chuckles, “say that again, baby,”
“I am only your cockslut, Wonwoo,” you said, face red with shame and lust.
Wonwoo chuckled more as he dipped his fingers between your folds at those words. You let out a loud and erotic moan, legs clenching reflexively. Wonwoo played around the sensitive skin for a while before he found the throbbing bundle of nerves which got him the reaction from you which he was waiting for.
His fingers continued to rub over your clit in circular motion, lips moving downwards to kiss and lick and nipples at the skin of your belly. He managed to make the entirety of your torso cover in his spit in absolutely no time. “Lift, babe."
He pulled your shorts and your panties off your legs in one swift motion. Your legs shyly closed instinctively, but Wonwoo spread them back apart by you knees, “oh, you're shy now?”
He didn't expect a reply, diving into the heat between your legs. He kisses your inner thighs and your outer folds and gave your clitoris a few kitten licks, making you moan like a bitch in heat. He shoved his tongue in your hole, licking up your juices like a starved child.
“Fuck, you're so damn tasty, my love,” he mumbles as he explores your cunt with his tongue. You yelp at how deep his tongue reaches inside you, tickling against your g-spot.
You pull his face away with all of your strength when you feel the tension in your lower abdomen starting to build, “fuck, wonu stop,”
He stops immediately, looking up at you with concern for second, “shit, baby, I'm sorry, did i overstep-”
“No,” you interrupt, too desperate, “no, wonu. I, uh, i am close, but I don't wanna cum like this,” you say shyly, watching the concern in Wonwoo's eyes turn into the dark lust again, “fuck, I want to cum on your cock, Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo smirked. “Scared me there, baby, and all for a cock? You want my cock, yeah? I'll give you some.” Wonwoo unzipped his jeans and wriggled out of them and his boxers, freeing his red angry cock which slapped against his toned stomach.
Your mouth watered at the sight. You just didn't happen to be kidding when you called that thing a fucking monster. You reached out to touch it but he slapped your hand away. Wonwoo pumped his dick a few times, coating it with your slick on his fingers, before lining it with your hole, wasting no time.
He trusted in deep, making you let out a choked sound. You winced at the initial sting as Wonwoo waited a second in you to let you get used to his size. He pulled out slowly, leaving only his top inside, before hammering back in, making you moan again.
He did it a few times before catching a stable pace, and you felt the coil in your stomach form again already. “ahh, wonu, need you to touch me,”
“Shit, nothing is ever enough for you, is it? Always begging and whining for more,” Wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a slap on your thighs before reaching his fingers to play with your clit, flickering and fondling it between his index and middle.
He bent down to kiss you again. You grabbed his broad muscular shoulders, your nails digging in as you reached nearer to your climax. It seemed so did Wonwoo, by the way his breath hitched in your mouth.
“Fuck, princess, where do I come?” Wonwoo muttered in your mouth.
You grabbed onto him tightly, legs squealing his hips as you were just on the book, “inside me? You could do that, I have the morning-after pills.”
You feel Wonwoo hum in your mouth as he increased his pace again, chasing both your orgasms.
You reach your high first, vision whitening and body going limp at the sensation, feeling the happy harmones release in your veins. Wonwoo comes soon after - you involuntarily spasming around his dick giving just the right amount of stimuli for him to cum deep in you, his semen hot inside.
He pulled out, hissing a little, and fell on the bed beside you. You rolled over lazily by his side, dumping your arm around his chest and resting your head on his shoulder. He scoots closer, cuddling you in.
“Shit, that was so…” you didn't even have enough words to describe a sex that good.
Wonwoo chuckled a little. “I tore your new dress, sorry for that.”
“Don't worry about it,” you giggle, “Lazada has a new sale coming. I'll buy many more for you to tear in the future.”
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hwallazia · 3 days
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ANT!FRAGILE – 최산
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synopsis . in which you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
pairing . choi san & fem!reader
genre . smut (mdni!) fluff at the end, comfort, established relationship, idol!au, and a poor attempt of comedy.
taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡
word count . 3,1k
DISCLAIMER! unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).
NIC’S NOTES this took way too long for no reason at all (⁠ ̄⁠ヘ⁠ ̄⁠;⁠) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional! (again, to lazy to write it properly;;)
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you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.
you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.
but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?
you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.
it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.
you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?
but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.
you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.
but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.
you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.
“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.
“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.
“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.
“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.
“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.
“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.
“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”
“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.
“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”
and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you. 
during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”
“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly. 
“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.
“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.
“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.
“go kill yourself.” you huffed.
“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”
“touché” you agreed. 
the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.
“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”
“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.
“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”
“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”
“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.
you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.
once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.
“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.
remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.
you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.
suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.
once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.
“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.
you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.
your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.
“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.
“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”
“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.
“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.
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you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.
“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.
“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.
“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”
“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”
san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.
“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.
“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.
“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”
you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.
“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.
“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.
“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.
“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.
“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”
“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.
“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.
“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.
“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.
“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.
“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.
“no? let’s see if it is now,”
your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.
“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.
you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.
“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.
san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.
“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.
“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.
“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.
you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.
that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.
you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.
“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”
“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”
you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”
he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”
“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.
“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.
“babe,”
“hm?”
“shut up.”
| masterlist
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672 notes · View notes
dfortrafalgar · 3 days
Note
would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?
alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)
hope this isn’t too much!
and you’re doing awesome!
thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3
An Out.
Law x Fem Reader
Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.
Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that
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Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.
There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.
For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person.  He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.
Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.
Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine.  ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.
Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be.  If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.
And yet… he was still pushed into this.
A date around downtown with this girl.  She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say.  At all.
First red flag: she mentioned her ex.  Three times.  In four minutes.  Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found.  Second red flag: the clinginess.  Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground.  Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word.  She wouldn’t stop talking about herself.  Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…
He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on.  He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later.  It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.
“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.
“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.
“The bookstore?  What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout.  It wasn’t a good look on her.
‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say.  Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.
The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.
“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.
Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace.  Out the window.  Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement.  He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear.  His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible.  He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.
She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.
If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero.  His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought.  Or at least, it fucking better.
His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10.  It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment.  He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.
“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side.  “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”
“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.
To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another.  And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.
“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.
Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight.  With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork.  He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was.  He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books.  The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.
But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.
Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.
When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide.  She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter.  “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Law cocked an eyebrow, confused.  “Yeah, why?”
“That girl you’re with is making you miserable.  You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed.  Her eyes were clearly concerned.  “Are you dating her?”
Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier.  “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”
The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern.  “Do you want an out?”
“A what?”
“An out,” she repeated.  “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.”  Time was running out.  At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.
Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom.  With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”
The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase.  Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.
He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.
The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his.  Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.
His first kiss.
“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.
The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return.  “Baby, please just take me back!  My life isn’t complete without you!”  Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once.  The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled.  “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you!  I’m in shambles!  You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”
It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse.  As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face.  Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.
“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl.  “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact.  “I wasn’t.  Until now.”
The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt.  “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer!  The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!”  She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned.  The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.
“Ugh, whatever.  This place sucks ass anyway.  I’m going home.”  She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.
And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact.  He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real.  “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.
The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat.  “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.”  Her eyes were focused on her work.  “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand.  Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”
His jaw went slack.  “Are you serious?”
“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip.  “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time.  I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time.  And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”
Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma.  He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was.  He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many.  Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked.  He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”
The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through.  Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack.  “It… It was?”
“Yeah.”
Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock.  “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!”  She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now.  “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”
Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him.  “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”
She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan.  Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh.  She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.
“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself.  He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.
She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again.  “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”
He affirmatively shook his head.  “Never.  I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered.  “Hence this awful set-up date.”
The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily.  “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”
Law backpedaled.  “What does that mean?”
She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him.  She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment.  “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters.  And you like Sora, clearly.”
Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips.  “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?”  He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day.  The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.
She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing.  “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”
Now this was flirting.  Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events.  The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person.  He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.
The girl excitedly revealed her name.  “And your’s?”
“Trafalgar Law,” he replied.  “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”
“No shit, so do I!  I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement.  “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime!  Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…”  Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft.  “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”
Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer.  “I think I can make an exception this time.”
The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him.  She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.
Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter.  When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half.  She gave him a fond smile when he took it.
“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.
Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone.  The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city.  He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.
Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3 1125-354-9854
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badasbebi · 3 days
Text
home is where the heart is ➛ ♡
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?
✦ word count: 14k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.
✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3
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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness. 
 You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.
While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.
Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.
The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.
As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.
Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair. 
"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."
The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."
You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars. 
She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.
"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. 
"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her. 
"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly. 
"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.
She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.
"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.
The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them. 
"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.
Maybe not those words.
"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"
You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"
"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."
"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."
"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway. 
"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.
"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"
You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.
You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."
She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.
"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."
"Yup."
You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut. 
As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again. 
You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.  
The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life. 
As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you. 
Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to. 
In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.  
You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.  
By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips. 
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 "I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"
You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.  
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat. 
"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.  
Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.
You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off. 
You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked. 
"You okay?" a voice asks.
You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.
You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands. 
Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions." 
Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better." 
Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"
You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful." 
Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!" 
You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."
Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.
"What would I do without you?" you ask.
Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.
The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree. 
"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.
"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.
"Are you at least going home soon?"
She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."
You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."
She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."
You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.
As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.
The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.
Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.
You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.
When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.
You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.
You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything. 
As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up,  your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours. 
A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.
You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.
"Bada?" you question, bewildered.
"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock. 
She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization. 
"Since when?" 
She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."
"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."
Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."
You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"
You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.
"Hey, wait."
You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"
Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"
She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."
You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"
"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."
"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."
"Gotcha," she replies.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."
She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."
"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.
When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.
You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy. 
You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind. 
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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.
You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.
You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.
You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this. 
Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.
Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes. 
"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"
"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"
"I-"
"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."
"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”
Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."
"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”
You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”
He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?” 
You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"
He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”
He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.
"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.
"What?" His mouth hangs open.
You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”
"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”
You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."
His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”
Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.
"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her. 
The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”
"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."
"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.
"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."
The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.
Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk. 
Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off. 
Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”
You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."
Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."
"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."
Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”
You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."
Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.
She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.
"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.  
"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.
"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry. 
You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them." 
She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."
Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."
She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one. 
You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.
But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?" 
"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”
"I'll hold you to it."
"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs. 
"Everything alright?" you ask.
She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."
You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"
"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."
Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."
"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh. 
You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."
You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry." 
She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."
You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."
She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"
"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.
"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops. 
"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter. 
She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"
Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."
She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.
And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.
You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand.  She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks.
"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street. 
The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.
"What's up?" she questions.
You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work. 
"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"
"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."
"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"
She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."
You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.
As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."
"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"
"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."
You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.
"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?
But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?
"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.
"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."
She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.
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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.
But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident. 
Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor? 
After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering  what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip. 
A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends. 
Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!
Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?
Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.
y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.
You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.
You're about to stand up when you get a response.
Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(
y/n: i won't.
Jasmine: good.
Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?
You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.
y/n: yes.
Jasmine: OMG!!!
Jasmine: details plz!
You laugh.
y/n: it's none of your business, lol.
Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!
y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything
Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.
You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.
You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.
"Hey!" you greet.
"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is. 
"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.
"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."
"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."
"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."
"Yeah, definitely."
She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package. 
Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?
There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.
"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"
You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more. 
Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.
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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.
It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!
Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”
You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.
You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.
Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.
You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.
"Hey!" you greet.
She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."
"How are you?" you ask.
"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.
"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.
"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.
"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”
"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire. 
You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented. 
"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"
"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.
"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."
"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."
"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”
”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”
"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.
“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"
"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.
You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."
You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.
When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.
"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff. 
"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."
Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators. 
You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.
You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.
You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.
You'd be fine. 
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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.
"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.
"Honey, please, don't make a scene."
"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”
"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.
The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.
And now…
"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.
"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.
"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."
"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.
"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."
You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.
"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.
"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.
"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."
"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"
You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream. 
"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.
"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.
She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."
"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.
"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"
"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."
She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"
A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.
"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.
"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.
Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."
"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.
You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close. 
Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"
You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.
The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.
"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.
"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.
"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."
"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.
"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.
"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open. 
"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door. 
You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.
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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"
She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."
"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."
You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."
Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.
"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head. 
The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back. 
Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.
"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"
Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"
"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."
"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."
After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."
She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.
Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.
"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.
"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.
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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.
"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"
"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.
"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"
"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."
She blinks. "You would?"
The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no. 
Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."
"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."
You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building. 
"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events. 
"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"
"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.
I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."
The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.
"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.
"Huh?"
"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”
"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."
"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face. 
"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.
"My girl?"
"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"
"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.
"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."
"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.
"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in. 
"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.
"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute. 
"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."
"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again. 
"You were clearly having a good time."
"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.
"Well, at least we're even now."
"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.
Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything. 
"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.
"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.
"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.
"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.
"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.
"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh. 
"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."
"Y/n!"
You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.
"Fine," she finishes with a pout. 
The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease. 
"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."
"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.
"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."
"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."
"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."
"Please stop."
"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"
"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.
"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected. 
She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."
You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.
"You're ridiculous," you retort.
"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.
"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."
"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.
She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"
Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"
"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.
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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time. 
You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment. 
"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.
"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled. 
"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.
"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."
You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.
"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.
"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you. 
She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.
"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.
"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.
"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.
"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.
”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”
"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.
"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"
"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."
Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"
You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.
"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.
"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.
"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.
You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”
She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.
"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."
"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.
"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.
"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."
You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.
"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."
She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more. 
"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.
"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”
Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.
"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."
"I'm here for you too," you whisper.
A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.
"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”
You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.
"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.
"And by pretty good, you mean..."
"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."
"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.
"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.
"Yes, please."
"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.
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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face. 
You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.
"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.
"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.
"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"
You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."
You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.
"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.
"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.
"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.
"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."
"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."
"Really?"
"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.
"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.
The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.
She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.
The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.
"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.
She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.
"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.
"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.
"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.
"So, I was right about you wanting details?"
"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.
Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.
When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.
She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.
"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.
Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.
"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.
"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.
"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.
You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.
"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.
She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.
You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.
"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.
You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.
You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.
"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.
"Good?"
"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."
You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.
"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.
You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.
Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s
"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"
You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."
She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.
"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.
"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.
She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.
"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.
Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.
She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.
When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.
"How are you doing?"
"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.
"Then let's go to sleep."
You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.
The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.
"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.
"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.
"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."
"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.
"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.
"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."
"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.
"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.
"But what? What's the problem?"
"Nothing. Let's do it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.
You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.
"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'
Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.
"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.
"I don't know."
"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.
Y/N,
This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?
"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.
"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.
"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"
"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.
You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?
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eumppattv · 20 hours
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ only for you
ᝰ.ᐟ pairing: riize x reader! fluff and slight angst ₊⊹
ᥫ᭡。 sides riize only show to you, their love ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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𓍯𓂃 shotaro- his serious side
although shotaro can be pretty hard on the guys during practice, he usually reverts back to his smiley self almost instantly. his seriousness with you is a different kind, one that lingers. you’ll be at home, and find him working at his desk. he will talk to you about what he’s working on, what needs to be improved and so on. you love see him serious about his work, and also see him be serious when it comes to your relationship.
𓍯𓂃 eunseok- his jealous side
let’s be honest, eunseok is unpredictable. you never know which version of him you’re getting. still, he’s usually pretty calm and collected. that’s why him getting jealous is always a shock to you. his usual calm demeanor is replaced by his need to keep you to himself. you’ll be talking to a member, and all is well until you’re alone. that’s when he will confess he was jealous, a pout adorning his face.
𓍯𓂃 sungchan- his anxious side
sungchan is playful, carefree and relaxed. you often find yourself flustered by his words and actions, with his confidence being his best trait. although teasing you is his favorite pastime, sungchan also finds comfort in knowing he can share his fears with you, without judgement. with you he can let the mask he puts on go, even if it’s just for a couple minutes.
𓍯𓂃 wonbin- his romantic side
wonbin can be very shy at times. to others it seems that you aren’t even close, and they wonder how you make your relationship work. but really he is just private, and behind closed doors he is as romantic as they come. he will often buy you flowers, and organize date nights. he will write you letters, songs, and send you romantic messages every day. that’s how he shows his love for you.
𓍯𓂃 seunghan- his insecure side
it’s true that seunghan never misses an opportunity to tease you. plenty of “you like me so much huh” and “you think i’m so hot” have been exchanged. but what he doesn’t let others see is the moments where he doubts if you really do love him. when he doubts if he’s the right fit for you. really he is just scared that one day you won’t be around, so he will put so much pressure on himself to be perfect. in the end, he knows you accept his confidence and his moments of doubt.
𓍯𓂃 sohee- his quiet side
if there’s anyone who can brighten your mood, it’s sohee. his loud energetic personality can make anyone’s day. but with you he can relax, and not have to worry about being the mood maker. afternoons are spent laying down on your phones, not thinking about what to say or what to do. with you, sohee can bask in silence- no expectations, just peace. and although he can be shy with others, the silence he shares with you isn’t one of awkwardness, but of love.
𓍯𓂃 anton- his loud side
everyone knows anton as the soft speaker, always teasing him about it. while he always shows that side of him, with you it’s different. he’ll let himself get loud when he’s teasing you, or when you’re competing against each other- mario kart gets intense with him. he’ll also be loud when he’s calling out to you, whether it be at home or at an outing. he truly lets loose with you, showing you how much love he has for you.
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cameronspecial · 1 day
Text
A New Kind Of Normal (Part 6)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Mentions about Relapse and Talks About Getting Better After a Relapse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.0K
Summary: Rafe doesn't know if he has what it takes to be the person that Stella and Y/N deserve.
Masterlist
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Rafe has been giving Y/N her space, but it didn’t mean he stopped trying to get her to forgive him. He sent letter after letter. Gift after gift. All of them returned. NA meetings, anger management sessions, therapy appointments and calls from Diana all go ignored as he seeks solace in his drug of choice and ways of getting Y/N to let him back into her life. It is safe to say his week is not going so great.
Lucky or maybe unlucky for him, Wheezie and Sarah were still allowed to see the light of his life and would report back to him how she had been doing. Learning how much Stella misses him causes guilt to form in his stomach. He told his father he wouldn’t be the type of father to leave his daughter, but it was his decision that forced Y/N to create that distance. Every fibre of his body wants to hate Y/N for taking Stella away from him and causing Stella pain by doing so, yet he only seems to crave Y/N’s smile and proximity. He craves their late-night phone calls and her reassurance that he can stay sober. The silence on her end makes him believe she has given up on him. That he has no hope of getting back on the proverbial horse. Again, the only thing that can help remove the little voice inside his head saying he isn’t good enough for his dad, Y/N and Stella is the powder the powder that dries up his nose.. 
After yet another attempt to gain Y/N’s forgiveness doesn’t work, Rafe finds himself returning home from Barry’s with Ziploc bags in his pockets. He has been sleeping in his house in the Outer Banks since his apartment near Y/N’s only reminds him of what he has lost. Before he met Stella, he thought the big house was all he could ask for. That the material things could fill him with happiness. But with Y/N and Stella now in his life, he knows he could not have been more wrong. He begins to feel he will never be happy again without them in his life and he rushes to the closest flat surface. 
His hands shake as he tears the bag open, letting the coke spill all over the entranceway table. He takes his credit card out and starts to form line after line. One finger comes up to his nose to block one of his nostrils so the other can inhale the drug. He does every single line until he runs out. Frustration overcomes him when he can’t get the next bag out of his pocket, so he gives up and opts to try to sleep to help dull his toxic thoughts. He is too lazy to move out of the front room, lying down in the middle of the room spread out like a starfish. 
——
Sarah and Wheezie find their older brother as soon as they open his front door. Sarah would have walked on top of him if she wasn’t looking where she was going. Both girls knew what had happened and that he wasn’t faring well. They knew he had started using again. Wheezie kneels beside Rafe’s head and slaps him awake. He bolts forward, letting out a gasp of fear. “What did you do that for?” he groans, rubbing his cheek. She looks at him with slight disappointment, “We both know you wouldn’t have woken up if we tried a nicer way of doing it.” “Okay, that may be true. What are you doing here?” he questions. It is Sarah’s turn to reply. “We are worried about you. We know you are using again and you are never going to get sober again if you don’t talk to someone.” He lies back down with a shake of his head, “What is the point of getting sober again if I’m never going to see Stella again?” 
Sarah doesn’t respond for a second; instead, she looks for something in her purse. She finally finds what she is looking for and pulls out a piece of paper. Rafe takes the outstretched paper hesitantly. The worry that he is about to read a custody agreement from Y/N fills him with dread. However, he carefully unfolds the paper to find a drawing. The stick figures with pointy hats would not make any sense to most people, but to her father, he knew exactly what they were meant to be. It is a picture of him and his little girl holding hands with witches’ hats on their heads. The big round circle beside him must be a cauldron and the black blob beside Stella must be the cat she has always wanted. The only word he can make out from the indecipherable letters is Stella’s name. Y/N is doing such a great job at teaching Stella to write her name. 
Wheezie can see the confusion about the words on Rafe’s face and goes in to translate for him. “It says get well soon. Y/N told Stella the reason you aren’t coming over is because you are sick. You want a reason to get sober?” Wheezie starts to explain. “That’s your reason to get sober again. Yes, you may not be able to see her right now, but that little girl is waiting for you to come back and you are never going to do that if you keep spiralling.” He sits back up to see the picture in a better light. Tears start to form in his eyes as all his feelings about missing his daughter come crashing down. 
“She needs me still,” he whispers to himself. Yes, his father and Y/N may think he is useless but Stella doesn’t. She hasn’t forgotten about him and still wants him to come back even after he hasn’t talked to her in a week. That is one thought he doesn’t want to leave his head, except he realizes it always does whenever he seeks comfort from the cocaine. It may help him forget about the pain Ward has caused him, but he also forgets the love he gets from Stella. And that beats every other feeling. He gets up from the floor, pulling the rest of the coke easily out of his pocket now that he can think a little more clearly. He hands it to Sarah, “Get rid of this for me, please?” She nods her head and he brings both of his sisters in for a hug. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m going to try again,” he tells them. They both return the hug, Wheezie pressing her head against his shoulder, “We believe you and we are here to help.” He may never hear those words from his father, but he is so glad he has his sisters to give him the support their father never could. 
——
“I screwed up, Diana. She’s never going to forgive me.” Diana gives him a concerned look, “Rafe, it’s going to take more than a week for her to forgive you, especially since you only decided to try to get sober today.” Rafe nods his head, playing with the band of his watch. “Right… So you think I have a chance,” he hopes. She gives him a soft smile, “I do. If you give her time and take this one day at a time, I think she’ll come around. Show her how much they both mean to you.” “I can do that. One day at a day,” he repeats. 
——
Luna’s Diner feels so much darker with the knowledge that Y/N is angry at him. He knows he should give her space, but this week has been the longest he has gone without seeing Stella or Y/N. He’s nervous as he listens to the little bell announce his arrival. The little girl at the counter looks up from her colouring and her face lights up when she sees who it is. “Daddy!” she yells, running over to him. He picks her up and brings her into a tight hug. “Are you feeling better, Daddy?” He gives her a kiss on the temple, “I am, little witch. Thank you for my card. I loved it.” Rafe sits on a stool with Stella in his lap. She tells him everything he has missed during their week away. Sabrina is now her friend again because they realize Will is a gross boy. Stella and Sabrina are now dating and their wedding is on Monday. 
“Uncle Benny and I made sculptures. His was as tall as me,” she recounts, throwing her arms apart to exaggerate. Rafe giggles at how happy she is. The sight Y/N comes back to angers her and she is about to blow a fuse. “What are you doing here?” she grits through her teeth. She rounds the counter to take Stella in her hands. He stands up with his hands in the air to show he meant no harm, “I just wanted to talk to you. And catch up with Stella.” “You lost the right to do that when you rela- when you did what you did while Stella was home,” she argues. 
“I know, you know I regret that completely. I will never forgive myself for putting her in danger. I want you to know I’m back on track to getting better.” 
“That’s great. But I can’t just trust you like that again Rafe,” she snaps her fingers to iterate her point. “I want you to leave, please.” Stella looks between the two adults in confusion, wondering why it seemed they were talking in code. Rafe looks into Y/N’s eyes and sees the frustrations she feels. He doesn’t want to cause her any more trouble, so he heads toward the door. “Daddy, where are you going? Aren’t you going to play with me?” Stella calls out in a plea. His heart stops for a second and he doesn’t know how to get it to start beating again. He shakes his head sadly, “I’m sorry, little witch, but I have to go. I have work tomorrow.” Stella’s eyes start to brim with tears. “But you didn’t give me a hug yet,” she cries, holding out her arms for him. He looks at Y/N to confirm he is allowed to and she gives a solemn nod. She can’t deny her daughter a moment with her father. 
Y/N puts Stella down on the floor and Stella runs to her father. She goes into his arms, burying her head into his neck, “Bye-bye, Daddy. Forever and always?” He returns the intensity of her hug and kisses her. “Forever and always.” Her feet find the floor again and she watches as Rafe leaves her. He turns around when on the other side of the glass, blowing the little girl a kiss. Stella may not understand what is going on between her parents, but she can sense something has changed between them and that she might never see her father again. She goes back to her mother with hopeful eyes, “When can we see Daddy again?” “I don’t know, Baby. I’m sorry,” Y/N hates to say, giving the girl a hug to comfort her. 
——
Rafe does not blame Y/N for still being mad at him and for being hesitant to bring her back into their lives. He broke her trust, which is a sacred thing. The gifts were obviously not working and he is honestly glad it doesn't. Thinking back on it, he wants to gain her trust back through actions instead of materialistic things. He isn’t sure how to make it up to her, but he knows he can start a plan. First things, booking his next therapy appointment and increasing how often he sees Dr. Winters. Next, he will meet with Diana and reflect on why he relapsed so he can make a relapse prevention plan. Finally, make a list of possible places to go to rehab if he feels he can’t get sober in his current environment. 
Yes, this plan isn’t about getting back Y/N, but it helps him with recovering from his relapse and this will hopefully show Y/N how serious he is. As he writes down his plan, he vows to do everything in his power to gain back Y/N’s trust and show her he will never make the mistake of putting Stella in danger again.  
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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marauroon · 2 days
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I love your new fic Hypothermic and the whole trope of Jamie being a big cuddle bug and the best friend trope always has a chokehold on me. Can you write a romantic bestfriend!james maybe about a swim in the black lake or something with a summery vibe please (I miss summer so much rn)
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BALL GAME — J.POTTER
James makes the most of being your favourite person to convince you out of the castle and into the lake.
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WARNINGS: james picks the reader up at one point
james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.3k || requests open!
a/n: best friend james has my whole entire heart i fear
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Sometimes James is half convinced you’re a vampire, that your skin is so delicate that even a pinprick of sunlight will burn you into a pile of ash.
If it weren’t for your ostentatious love of the summer season—and the privilege James has as your best friend—he’d be surprised you even agreed to his request at all.
Yet there you were, sat pretty underneath the shade of one of the small willow trees lining the water with a book in your lap and a picnic blanket separating you from the grass.
Was he a little sad you’d decided not to join the group in splashing around? A little. Was he going to ask you again later with his puppy dog eyes so you couldn’t refuse him? Probably.
But right now he was content with watching how your eyebrows furrowed and left small wrinkles between your eyes as you read a particularly interesting paragraph, and the slight fluttering of your hair against the small breeze.
A sharp splash of water to the back of his head tore James’ attention from watching the way your eyes scanned the pages of your novel with your nose scrunched in a mix of surprise and disgust at whatever was printed in the ink, and he turned around with an exaggerated gesture of annoyance only to be met with another splash straight to his face.
Whilst the icy water was a nice relief from the nearly 30° heat, it was still cold.
“What was that for?” James pulls his glasses from his face to try and wipe the water droplets from the lenses with his thumb, turning Sirius’ face into a blurry pale blob in the process.
“We’re picking teams for a makeshift volleyball game? You’d know that if you stopped gawking over there like a dog in heat,” James can vaguely make out Sirius crossing his arms over his chest, and lo and behold, when he slots his glasses back on, Sirius’ expression is just as smug as he expected it to be.
“I wasn’t ‘gawking’ anywhere you twat,” James sends a splash of water in Sirius’ direction as a retaliation. “I was just appreciating the fact that she actually joined us, that’s all,”
“Appreciating her face you mean,” Sirius’ tone matches his smugness perfectly, and James lets out a short scoff with a roll of his eyes.
“You’re such a dog Pads,”
“You know it,” Sirius shoots James a wink and he pretends to gag. “Seriously though, stop staring so we can play,”
“Orrr,” Marlene wades over to the two to interrupt the conversation, laying her arm over Sirius’ shoulder. “You can go over there and convince her to join us, we’re uneven,”
James shoots another glance in your direction with an uncertain hum. “I don’t think we should disturb her,”
“We can’t play 4 to 3 James,” Marlene tilts her head and shakes it lightly. “So go bat your eyelashes and use your favouritism to get us another player,”
She gives a dismissive wave of her hand and Sirius joins her, James sending the two a very unimpressed look as he drags himself out of the water to speak to you.
It’s not the new source of shade from the sun that informs you of James’s presence, nor is it the sight of him sitting down cross-legged beside you in your peripheral vision. It’s the water droplets that sprinkle the right side of your face and the pages of your book that give him away.
“James—” You let out a low groan to voice your disapproval at him shaking his head like a dog to dry his hair, something that very clearly didn’t work very well as water continued to drip from his curls onto his shoulders, disappearing into the already soaked fabric of his t-shirt.
“Sorry sorry collateral damage I swear,” He throws up his hands in an immediate surrender, and you let out a small scoff with a shake of your head as you pull his glasses from the bridge of his nose to dry them on the hem of your t-shirt.
“Having fun then?” You leave your book on the blanket to shift onto your knees, carefully placing James’ glasses back on his face so they properly catch behind his ears.
James nods with a smile at how gentle your fingers are as they brush the sides of his cheeks when you return them to your lap. “Yeah, we’re about to play a round of volleyball, fancy joining us?”
You scrunch up your nose slightly and he can immediately anticipate your answer. “…no?”
“Awe come on we’re uneven,” James tilts his head as he gestures towards the others in the water, a small pout etched onto his face. “We can’t play 3 to 4 that’s not how it works,”
He blinks at you softly, eyes filled with carefully curated desperation. “Please? We can team up together,” He adds the idea of teaming up like it’s an added bonus to your agreement, his voice sweet, sticky, and absolutely dripping in persuasion.
He looks perfectly pathetic when he looks at you like that, and who are you really to say no to him?
“One game,” Your answer is joined by an exasperated sigh, but James reacts like you’ve just told him all of Severus’ hair has fallen out rather than begrudgingly agreeing to play water volleyball with him.
“Perfect! Let’s go,” James holds out his hand to help you up eagerly, a smile beaming across his face that almost puts the blazing sun to shame in it’s brightness.
You roll your eyes at him, but take his hand nonetheless, and he’s a little too excited in pulling you to your feet as he sends you stumbling forward from his pull, and he uses the momentum to lean down and take the top half of your body over his shoulder, hoisting you off the ground in the process.
You can sense the inevitable immediately.
“Don’t you dare—” You arms wrap tightly around James’ waist as he straightens his posture, his arms secured around your thighs as he walks the two of you towards the lake, suspiciously quiet considering his earlier excitement. “James I swear to god if you do what I think you are going to do I will destroy you,”
You kick your legs the closer you get to the water, although it’s to no real avail compared to the arm strength that is James’ chaser practice, and all it really ends up doing is garnering you an audience as James begins to wade in the water.
“James, you better put me down right now.“ Your warning falls on deaf ears, and your half surprised at the amount of will power he has to keep ignoring you as the water reaches his knees.
“James—“ You barely manage to get his name out before he dive on a you both into the water, it’s icy temperature immediately sending a chill up your spine as you resurface with a gasp, James laughing as he breaks the water himself.
“You absolute twat—” You send a splash of water in James’ direction with an over-exaggerated show of your disapproval, and he blocks it with his forearm, laughter still steadily streaming from his mouth.
Needless to say, you didn’t team with him for the volleyball game.
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in1-nutshell · 4 hours
Text
Human Buddy going through a break up with the Scavengers
SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Comfort from everyone, Human reader
Buddy had been in a relationship before they had left Earth and kept in contact through the internet when they met the Scavengers. The group had heard plenty of stories about this mysterious partner of Buddy’s.
It was almost adorable to hear them rave about their partner.
As a gift for Buddy’s birthday, the Scavengers decided to travel to Earth. Spend a couple days on the planet, let Buddy have a couple dates with their significant other, sight see, the whole works. Everything was going well on their way until Buddy received a text from their significant other.
A text saying they wanted to break things off and promptly blocked Buddy from any form of communication.
Buddy is devastated and now the Scavengers have heard the story too.
Krok
Krok is hugging Buddy as they are sobbing into his armor.
He doesn’t say much at first, he knows he needs Buddy to calm down before anything else can be done.
When he thinks that enough time has passed, he is ready to get Buddy better.
All Scavengers are on deck.
He tries to get Buddy distracted in some of their old hobbies.
When they are playing Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang, Krok lets Buddy take a free shot at him. He is worried about Buddy getting better and he is doing the best he can to help them through this hard time.
Krok holding Buddy to his chassis.
“It’s okay Buddy, take your time.”--Krok
Buddy still clinging to Krok’s armor letting the rest of their tears fall.
“Sorry for taking up so much of your time…”--Buddy
“No, I told you was going to be here for you and I’m not going to go down from that promise.”--Krok
Buddy sniffles a bit pressing their face more into his armor.
Krok carefully runs his digits up and down Buddy’s back.
“There, there… there, there…”--Krok
Crankcase
His famous scowl gets deeper.
Crankcase feels for Buddy a lot.
He considers himself lucky seeing how his online relationship ended up working out.
Let’s Buddy have their time to be sad, but after that, he is not going to let them be sad for a sorry excuse of an organic.
The passive aggressive hype bot on board.
He and CONS-4EVA team up to get Buddy back on the dating field after a while.
While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ he will give Buddy a few more openings than usual, maybe even let them get a free shot at him.
Buddy scrolling through the dating app with Crankcase and CON’s looking at it too.
“What about this one?”--Buddy
“Hmm… red flag. He’s got a fish on his profile picture.”—CONS-4EVA
“All right, how about this one?”--Buddy
“Maybe… no, don’t do that one. She’s got a sketchy background.”--Crankcase
“…This one?”--Buddy
“…Put it in the cart.”--Crankcase
“You can’t do that on this app Crankcase.”--Buddy
Spinister
Spinister suggest shooting the person who made Buddy cry like this.
A bit awkward with the affection, but he is trying.
After a few days of Buddy being sad he’ll go on the internet to see what he can do about Buddy’s heartbreak.
A minor spark attack when he reads that humans can die of heart break.
His fleshy isn’t going to die on his watch.
Has Buddy in constant view and encourages them to seek out the team more.
While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ nothing changes much in their dynamic… except the few times he will let them have a chance to shoot him
Or maybe throw them at the opponent.
That one nearly gives Krok a spark attack.
Buddy was sitting on the table reading a data pad.
Spinister and Krok were drinking some enegex and talking about the latest hole Grimlock made.
Buddy twitches a bit before sneezing.
Spinister turns his neck so fast Krok is sure that he snapped it.
He jumps over the couch, snatches Buddy up, grabs a blanket and starts wrapping them up into a burrito.
“Spin—”--Buddy
“Shh! No talking.”—Spinister
Spinister starts walking to the med bay.
“Why are we heading to the med bay?”--Buddy
“Check if your organic spark is still online.”--Spinister
“Excuse me, but my what?!”—Buddy
“Their WHAT!?”--Krok
Fulcrum
As much as Fulcrum hates organics, Buddy has grown on him quite a bit.
That being said, he still isn’t completely comfortable with touching.
More words of encouragement kind of mech.
He does have sympathy for Buddy and their heart break.
Probably tells Buddy minor insensitive things about their ex later.
While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ he’ll offer himself as a shield three times and three times only.
Fulcrum holding a broom and gently petting Buddy from his perch.
“There, there.”--Fulcrum
Buddy looks up a bit strangely at Fulcrum who was on top of the fridge petting them with a broom.
“Everything will be okay eventually.”--Fulcrum
Buddy looks at the dust bunnies floating down on their lap.
At least he’s trying.
Misfire
Another one of the bots holding Buddy as they cry their little heart out.
Tries to make jokes too early on but backs off when he gets a bunch of glares and Buddy starts to cry harder.
Offers to go with Spinister to go shoot the person who broke up with them.
Top hype man for Buddy to get back on their feet.
When playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ defiantly makes an alliance with them and Grimlock.
50 50 on him throwing Buddy in the air.
“Got you now Mis—”--Fulcrum
“SNEAK ATTACK!”--Misfire
Misfire throws Buddy at Fulcrum.
Fulcrum screams and ducks, Krok swan dives and catches Buddy.
“Misfire! What in the name of Cybertron—”--Krok
BANG!
Krok looks at the suction cup stick on his forehelm.
Misfire walks over and grabs Buddy.
“HA! Eat it Krok!”--Misfire
Grimlock
While he can’t communicate too much, Grimlock does keep Buddy close while they are down.
Wants to squish whatever made Buddy this depressed.
He doesn’t want Buddy to feel sad.
He lets Buddy hide with him when things are a bit much.
While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ Grimlock offers himself as a shield, will growl at anyone who tries to get close to Buddy.
Misfire enters the room.
“Hey Grimmy! Have you seen Buddy around?”--Misfire
Grimlock looks at him before slowly moving his tail.
Buddy fast asleep at his side, snoring and twitching.
“Oh, I’ll come back in a bit. Sweet dreams you two.”--Misfire
Misfire closes the door.
Grimlock wraps his tail around them and continues to sleep to the sound of Buddy snoring.
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veren-cos · 19 hours
Text
Asking out the Bachelors (SDV)
x disabled!reader
You presented him with a bouquet. But before he could speak, you interupt. "Now before you say anything!" He looks at you confused. "I want you to know before you make any big decisions that I am disabled. I get around fine enough, I mean, I can handle my farm and all. But some days it's rough. And I won't be able to. I might not have the energy for anything. I really- Really -like you, but I don't want to be hurt down the line because you can't deal with this." You put your heart on the line and awaited his response.
All Bachelor's below the cut
Harvey
• Gives you a big ol' hug
• Probably cries a little because he is so happy that you asked him out
• Hopes you don't notice
• You definitely do, but don't say anything because-how cute is he!
• The two of you just stay there for a second, because it's not like you can really move when you are trapped in a hug
• "Dear, having a disability is no big thing. So you need a little extra support sometimes. I am your man!"
• Literally will go to the ends of the Earth to help you when things are acting up
• When you go into more detail about it, he knows a lot already! (Duh he is a doctor)
• But he will do a lot more research about the specifics once you leave.
• He stays in that hug for a really long time before realizing that he never actually accepted your bouquet and becomes a bit of a flustered mess
• You think he is adorable
Sam
• As much as he likes to think he is sooooo cool, he is so happy that he just gives you a double thumbs up and a dopey grin
• He says, "Farmer you don't know how happy this makes me!"
• Invites you into his house to talk about things more, and plucks around his guitar while doing so.
• He doesn't know crap about disabilities, besides adhd and a few more common ones.
• But he is willing to learn!
• The two of you actually have a really long heartfelt conversation about it.
• Lots of hugs.
• Like he cannot get over the fact that you are dating now.
• Maybe a makeout session if the mood feels right?
Sebastian
• Kinda just stares at you for an uncomfortable amount of time
• You have no idea what he is thinking, and frankly neither does he.
• His brain is frying at the fact that you like him back.
• And then he is also panicking at the fact that you think he won't like you because of something you can't change!
• Grabs your hands once he snaps out of it, startles both of you
• "Yes!" He somewhat shouts, "yes! Yoba, I swear. I care for you and nothing about you will change that."
• Proceeds to just hold your hands and blush because OHMYGOSHMYCRUSHLIKESMEANDIJUSTTOLDTHEMILIKETHEMAND-
• Later when you talk about your disability more, he recognizes the name from late night internet browsing, and will do whatever he can for you when things get bad.
• Like Sam, there is a lot of communication about how he can help because he isn't well informed
Alex
• Literally picks you up???
• Idk he is weird (it's okay we still love him)
• Like holds you bridal style and gives you a big smooch on your cheek
• Will do his best to learn how to help!!!
• He doesn't care you have a disability
• Absolutely will take care of your farm and animals if need be
• When he sets you down he gives you an actual kiss
• The two of you talk about everything
• Shows up at your farm the next day after talking to Harvey
• He wanted to learn a bit more about helping people with disabilities, now having two important people in his life that have them! (You and George)
• Overall he'd be really good about it once he got going
Shane
If he was sober at the moment
• "We all have our problems, and yours is nothing."
• "I'm shocked you want to go out with me, but remember, this was your idea!"
• Aka, he tried to act all tough but when you look at his face, he is just a softy
• He has a slight blush on his face
• He is so happy you trusted him enough to tell him your personal business
• Won't be perfect by any means at helping when things get hard, but he tries
If he was drunk at the moment
• "I'm not dealing with that."
• And then he walks away.
• Regrets it so much when he sobers up but the damage was done
• If you felt that he deserved another chance it wouldn't be for a long time
• If you get together later, every time things flare up he just feels so guilty.
Elliott
(Apologies in advance for possibly being out of character. He is the one I know the least about-)
• Similar to Alex ngl (kinda?)
• He smiles at you, places his hand at the nape of your neck, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek
• Let's his head rest on your forehead for a few moments before accepting your bouquet
• Gives you a gentle kiss
• Will learn all of the things to know about your disability
• Makes sure you check in with Harvey about it whenever things get bad
• Will make you soup :) he knows it won't 'fix' anything, but he doesn't know when else to do when people aren't feeling good
• It's cute
• Will gives you cuddles after he accepts the bouquet, and makes sure to talk to you about what you need.
• He tells you, "nothing can change the way I feel about you. You are the light of my life." (Or some fancy poetry that idk how to write)
This is the first thing I've written that I've posted, so please lmk if I made a typo or something!!! And let me know if you want me to elaborate on any prompt. Or give me a prompt! I will be posting more, I just have to edit them.
(Thank you to my friend for proofreading if you see this)
Also I mostly write x reader, which I am down to make weirdly specific. Mostly fluff or hurt/comfort, but I am down for almost anything so if you have any fic you want written, lmk!!! I might not get to it for a while because, life, but we'll see! Hope you had fun reading, sorry for the long outro-
(Edited Alex's, thanks for pointing out George is disabled!)
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lokideservesahug · 1 day
Text
Obsessed In Love
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-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-
Pairing: Yandere!Checo Pérez x gn!reader
(Slight) Yuki Tsunoda x reader
Warnings: Yandre, obsession, dark themes ofc (all kinda subtle). Badly translated Spanish
Request: Could you do yandere! Checo Perez with male reader? 👀
Notes: I'm not quite sure how to approach male readers just yet so I tried to do a gn reader instead. Pls let me know if you want something different though. This is the first time I've tried tow rite anything like this so feedback is greatly appreciated. Also if anyone wants a second part then pls let me know
Summary: You were very happy with your job- personal assistant for Sergio Pérez. Yet unbeknownst to you, being Checo's personal assistant isn't enough for him.
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You hadn't been at Red Bull Racing for long but from what you've experienced so far, it has been amazing. You came in at the start of the 2024 season as Sergio Pérez's personal assistant and its just great. All of the crew were lively and welcoming to you, especially Checo. You've been following F1 for a long time now (hence how you found out about the hardly advertised job opening) and have always admired Checo and his ravcracraft so it was a huge honour to work alongside him. Unsurprisingly, media days are the least strenuous for the drivers but the most difficult for the PR/media team and as someone who worked under the former but worked directly alongside a driver, you had a nice balance of stress.
You scan your paddock pass and at the familiar beeps, you start your trek to Red Bull hospitality. You decided to arrive here early today so you can get a head start on the weekend and so you can even hang around with those you don't often get time to, like the engineers etc. You walk over to your workspace and get our your ipad with the schedule for today. Looks like you'll be following Checo around from 10-12 whilst he does miscellaneous activities and jobs first thing. You check the clock next to you. 8:35. You still have a good hour and a quarter until you need to start worrying about your 'boss' coming in.
You dive into your work and begin checking emails and planning entirely for the next few races. You're engrossed in your works for what feels like hours when you hear a gentle knock on the door. "Come in." You say, whilst placing the ipad on the desk and standing up. "Oh! Checo, I must have lost track of time." You glance at the clock. 8:57. Oh, that's odd. "Good morning cariño" You smile at his warm greeting. "Morning Checo, it isn't like you to be this early. What's the occasion?" For a split second you could have sworn that he looked like he was about to protest your words but swiftly caught himself.
"I uh- just thought I'd get an early start." He gave you a half smile and you smiled at his words. "Well Mr early start, I don't think there's much to do. You'd probably be most helpful speaking to some mechanics about any further adjustments but aside from that. But you can do anything I suppose" You turn to look at him after you finish your pacing only to find him sat down on a seat in the corner of your 'office'. You go to ask him what he's doing but he leans backspace, crosses his legs and speaks before you can get any words out. The corner of his lips turn up at the tilt of his head. "What? I thought you said I could do anything?" His half sarcastic response leaves you speechless. "You won't even know I'm here querida. Unless you ask for help which I'll be happy to give." You feel your cheeks warm slightly at his words and sit doen at your desks and continue as you were when he came in.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Checo was really quite helpful and by the time you had finished all you planned for the morning and much more, it was 10 o'clock.
You tidy up the miscellaneous work that manged to scatter across your desk and turn to the Mexican stood to your side. "Thank you for your help." He smiles at your words and looks at the clock behind you. "No worry querida. Any time" You feel yourself blush slightly at his words and so you look down and step away from the desk. You point out the time and ask if you should begin your duties. "You go ahead cariño, I just need to do something." Not thinking much of his words (and assuming he probably had to tie his shoe laces or send a text) you leave the door, parting with a soft "See you in the foyer in a minute."
You sit down on a plush leather sofa by the door waiting for Sergio's return to do your first job of the day. Suddenly, the door quietly opens and you hear the distant shouts of fans and the ever moving ambience of a Formula 1 race track. You turn to look at the door, already knowing who the disruptor of your momentary peace is. "Morning Max." The Dutch man nods at you walk in your direction to place a clearly empty red bull can in the bin.
He sits down to your left and stretches out. "So, what media duties do you have today?" Max hums in thought and furrows his brows at your question. "Uhm- I think I have to film one of those what's in the box videos and then soem looking at the car, meeting a few fans and then the video with Checo at the end of the day." You hum in acknowledgement at Max's words. The Red Bull YouTube video at the end of the day should be quite nice. Unsurprisingly, it features him and Checo but also Daniel and Yuki. You continue chatting, waiting for Checo until the Mexican comes through the door. You stand to greet Checo and begin walking out if the door to begin your day. He smiles at your greetings and unbeknownst to you, gives Max a harsh glare at the proximity of the two of you when he first entered.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
The day seemed to breeze by and by the time it came to the last media duty, you were shocked at how late it already was. You stand to the side under a canopy, watching as the RB (both Red Bull and VCARB) drivers mess around with each other. The sight of Checo and Max having a small, futile squabble over who gets to drive however, makes you laugh softly. You turn to look at the other drivers as Checo (not that you know) turns to give you a longing glance for the millionth time today. The cameraman calls for a small break before the next segment if the video will be filmed and the drivers all let out a collective sigh of relief.
You walk to the corner of the gazebo and fetch a chilled red bull from the cooler box for Checo. You wait at the edge of the canopy, still in the shade, for Checo to give the now slightly warmer drink to him. However instead if the regular presence of a certain Pérez to your side, you instead find a short Japanese man. "Hi Yuki." The pilot grins at your words and waves slightly. "Hello Y/N, how are you today?" You continue to exchange pleasantries with the man ; you've become more acquainted recently due to him often approaching you and staying for long chats.
"So how is tha-" Yuki doenst get to finish that thought as a gruff sounding Checo cuts across him, saying your name. You turn to him and give him a small smile whilst sticking your red bull filled hand out. "Sorry it's slightly warm, I got it out a little bit ago when you stopped filming." You look from the thawed ice in the shoe of your fingers to Checo's face only to find his lips pulled together in a tight line and was he glaring at something? Before you can ask ehats wrong, he meets your eyes and his gaze softens.
"Thank you querida." The cameraman calls to the drivers to return to in front of the lens. Checo lingers for as long as he can at your side until you have to jokingly nudge him in the direction of the camera before he leaves with a breathy laugh.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Despite your early arrival, you get back to your office fairly late. You're one of the last people left in the red bull hospitality (aside from a few mechanics of course but they are just all superhuman). You just want to get him and collapse in your bed by the time you push your office door open but fortunately, you know that you just need to grab a few things and you'll be done for the day.
You place the ipad in the overnight charging dock (a clever little timed thing as to not waste excess energy) and grab your handbag from the floor where it lies. But your gaze catches on a red bull in the middle of the desk. Now it's not surprising in the slightest to see cans everywhere when you work for the big Asutrain company. However, this can is unlike one you've ever seen before. It's almost, glittery? You're curious as to what it is and of course where it came from.
Yet you chalk it up to it maybe being a very nice staff member or maybe even someone that has noticed you in the paddock (a certain Japanese man comes to mind before your mind shoos that away). However, you decide to try a bit of the drink. Heck you'll need at least some caffeine to make it home. You hear the ever satisfying crunch of the ring pull and when you put it to your lips it tastes divine. You almost moan at the sensation of a rich, almost Berry like taste, unlike anything you've ever tried before. You feel like you need to sit down to fully appreciate the flavour.
Wait. No. You feel like you need to sit down regardless. You feel a slight pressure in your head that you convince yourself that you're just imagining. You take another sip of the drink to try and subside the feeling. You place the half full can on your desk and go to walk rewards the door. But the door begins to look slightly fuzzy. Before you even try to make sense of what's happening, you suddenly feel yourself begin to grow weightless and fall backward.
You expect to hear a thump and be met with the hard, carpeted floor. However, you instead find yourself met with something warm and soft. Your mind , which is growing ever hazier, tries to make your head look up but you find yourself frozen, unable to move. At your attempts at mobility your hesr a quiet "shhh." You groan in response trying to understand who the person (cradling you?) Is. "Shhh querida. You're safe with me. Just relax." And that's all it takes for you to drift into unconsciousness.
-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-
Please let me know if anyone would be interested in a second part!
Thank you for reading. As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.
Taglist (irdk if this is anyone's thing so sorry if it's not). @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie
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iloveoldermen-posts · 5 hours
Text
Gun mechanic!reader
Warnings: totally my opinion with no logic behind it just vibes, slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, i have not proof read ୨୧
Simon 'Ghost' Riley Other than himself, he only trusts one other person to touch his gun which is obviously you. DIDN'T let you touch the gun for practically forever but then everyone on his team was raving on about how well you work and how sweet you are to them. Even getting them attachments they didn't even know they needed, that's when you IMPROVED the one and only Ghost's gun.
'Captain' John Price Was slightly worried about going to you because he has been operating the same way since joining the 141. But now that he has started, he can never go back. It saves him sooo much time and even though he might not admit it but you definitely do much better work than him.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick He was the first to actually start going to you, it is your job so why wouldn't he. At first, you would make a little conversation, but every time he brought you a gun it progressively got more and more until he was inviting you to hang out and calling you his actual friend. It was a very natural occurrence.
Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish Is going around telling everybody about how good his 'best friend' gun mechanic is (such a sweet soul). However, he refuses to call you 'gun mechanic' to anybody, saying that he doesn't want you to think he is only using you because of your actual job? Bless. Always calling you his friends people in the mess hall so you know you are important.
<3
My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!
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mrswarnerxo · 1 day
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❪ ✧ ❫ wounds and… flirting?
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: malakai azer x fem!reader.
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: after battle, kai has a knack for getting injured and not letting anyone help him. well, that is, except for you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: wounds, blood, flirting, tension, female reader, bandages, stitches, slight gore (?), fluff i guess?
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 869
𝐀/𝐍: heres to all my girls who want a kai azer fic but theres absolutely 0, aka this poor, innocent soul. kinda happy that im the first person to make this (i think? oh my god if im actually not it’ll just make me look like an egomaniac even though i kind of am but im not i just have a huge pride DTOPIT) also sorry this took so long lmao😭
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐈 “𝐊𝐀𝐈“ 𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.
𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle
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this was the third time. the third time he had hurt himself in battle.
yes, you get that he’s fighting and he’ll get hurt no matter what. but for god's sake, you feel like he almost purposely hurts himself in battle.
so, here you are, dragging the king’s second son to the healing room, scolding him as he follows you like a puppy.
“i can’t believe it, kai. the third time. i swear, one of these days, i won’t be here to heal you,” you rant, not even looking behind you to see if the man is still following you.
you could almost feel him chuckling at your antics, thinking that you’re being over dramatic. which, in your opinion, you definitely aren’t.
you walk into the healing room and push the nineteen-year-old onto the bed. his chin is still dripping with blood, and bleeding scars are scattered around his muscular form.
“i’ll be fine, sweetheart. it’s only a few wounds; i’m not dying,” he taunts, rolling his eyes. you shoot the enforcer a harsh glare as you dig for some bandages and stitches.
your eyes glance to his rib, a long, deep, red wound traveling through his skin. you know that it pains him to sit and walk with that wound, but you also know that his father, the king, made him able to handle pain like that.
“sure,” you say sarcastically, get out the bandages once you find them. you put them on the stray, along with the stitches.
“why don’t you let the healers handle this, it’ll be much easier.” kai looks at you with a deadpan expression before shrugging. “i don’t want them to,” he says simply. you blink before glaring at him again, slamming the forceps you found on top of the tray along with the bandages.
“moron,” you mutter, making him grin bloodily at you. you roll your eyes, get a cloth, and start to gently tap his lip with the cloth, drying the blood.
you accidentally look up just to see him staring at you, making eye contact. his gray eyes glance between your own, his lips separating slightly.
gulping, you look away and dig in the counter for some alcohol for his wounds. you hear him sigh from behind you as you take the alcohol out.
“take off your shirt.” kai looks at you in amusement before taking off his shirt.
you’ve done this before; making him take off a piece of clothing so you could bandage his wounds without trouble, but it never fails to make blush come to your cheeks and your stomach flutter with butterflies.
kai looks up at you with a knowing look in his eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. you clench your jaw before turning to the tray beside you and getting the alcohol.
you pour the liquid on the cloth in your hand before putting it on the large cut—probably made by a sword or someone with powers—on his defined —muscular but lean—chest.
you hear him hiss in pain, though you still feel his eyes on you. “that’ll need stitches. now, if you’d ask a proper healer, i would’ve just healed it with powers, but since i’m not…” you trail off, giving him a deadpan look.
“no, i’m—fine,” he grunts, his hands clenching the sheets underneath him. rolling your eyes, you grab the forceps and carefully grab the needle with it.
“you ready?”
“this isn’t the first time i needed stitches, sweetheart, i’ll be fine.”
“whatever.”
you hear a sharp hiss whenever you stick the needle into his skin. carefully, you start to stitch his wound back up—along with his hisses and held-in grunts of pain.
once you're finished, you cut the string and put the needle back on the tray. (idk man idk to do stitches) for the rest of the wounds, you get the alcohol and put it on the cotton again before cleaning the other small cuts and wounds.
“you’re a natural at this—thanks to me, of course,” kai murmurs, hissing halfway through. you glare at the man as you get the bandages, starting to bandage the wounds on his chest.
“that’s not something to brag about, kai. if anything you should be embarrassed,” you hiss, continuing to bandage up his wounds.
he hums and you feel his eyes on you again, watching you. he continues to stare at you until eventually you can’t handle his heated gaze on you and lift your head, meeting his eyes.
your breath catches in your throat as you lift your head a bit too close to his, feeling your cheeks get warm.
kai’s gaze travels to your other eye, to eventually your lips, then back to your other eye. instinctively, you lick your lips to wet them, making kai’s attention travel back to your lips.
you see him lean in ever so slowly, as if silently asking if he could kiss you. “can i—”
the door swings open and you quickly jump back, separating you and kai. looking towards the door, you see the blond hair of his big brother, kitt.
he looks between the two of you suspiciously, lifting an eyebrow. “was i, uh, interrupting something?” he asks.
“no.”
“kind of.”
“kai—”
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boundinparchment · 6 months
Text
In Trenodia
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Long-distance marriages are difficult. But you and Wriothesley always manage to make time for one another. Female Reader/Wriothesley. Second scene is implied to occur after Act 4 of the Fontaine Archon Quest. Song for title inspiration - 'In Trenodia' by VV. CW: smut, breeding kink if you squint, oral, cunnilingus MINORS DNI. RATED EXPLICIT. On AO3 here.
After routine confirmations of invoices and goods, along with small talk from the surface, you were escorted to your husband’s office.  As you were every visit.  No one, not even the Duchess, was exempt from protocol.
By now you knew every guard’s name and face and remembered their troubles from the last time you visited.  It wasn’t easy to live in the depths, let alone work in them.  You knew the other side, what it was to be without, and you easily understood the toll separation took.  Words from you might not soothe, not entirely, but expectation danced on every face and you saw it as your duty to bring what reassurance and reprieve you could.
The guards sent word ahead of your arrival, naturally, so you did not expect to surprise Wriothesley nor be interrupted while you were there. 
Years ago, the large imposing doors frightened you. You had not expected the Duke himself to want to speak to you.  In hindsight, it made sense: you were a small vendor directly supplying him.  He had been so impressed that your honey did not taint his tea beyond recognition.  Wriothesley was instead immediately interested in how your methods varied from those used by the companies that mechanically processed the liquid as well as other beekeepers.
Moments like those left you lighter than air.  But they also managed to claw at the wound that never truly closed.  One you were used to nursing in the later hours of the night.  Distance made the heart grow fonder, of course; it also served as a chasm that would never be truly crossed.
Now was not the time for such melancholy, you reminded yourself.
As you entered Wriothesley’s office and the guard closed the doors behind you, you could make out the faintest familiar notes from the phonograph.  With a large jar of liquid gold tucked under your arm, you climbed the stairs and crested just as Wriothesley looked up from his paperwork. 
The weariness under his eyes and in the thin line of his mouth faded, barely visible as he laid eyes on you.
“You have impeccable timing, my love,” he said as you approached, lips quirking into a soft smile.  “Just when I was about to take a break.”
You rested the jar on the desk, the contents almost glowing from the way the light passed through the contents, and leaned over to meet him for a kiss.  Your heart jolted, as it always did, at the sensation of his soft lips on yours and at the scent of his shaving cream. 
Wriothesley stood and stretched for a moment, rolling his shoulder as he rounded the desk.  He picked up the jar with a single hand to examine it and held it up to the light. 
“Darker this year.  How was the yield?  Did you have any trouble harvesting?”
You shook your head. 
“Monsieur Lockwood’s Rainbow Roses were quite the feast for the hives.  The taste is mild enough but I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
He cocked an eyebrow, intrigued.  You carefully took the jar from his grasp, opened it, and dipped your finger into the honey, extracting just enough to sample.  Wriothesley’s hand, large and warm, encircles your wrist and guided your finger to his mouth.  He licked methodically, savoring every drop as his eyes closed for a moment in thought.
When he opened them again, you caught the faintest hint of hunger mingled with astonishment.
“Floral without being over-powering.  Refreshing, even.  My compliments to the hive.”
“I’ll be sure to give them your praises,” you laughed as you closed the jar and set it aside.
Wriothesley’s hands found your face, the rough pads of his fingers ghosting over your skin.  He lowered his head to brush his nose against yours, a playful smirk on his face.
“I can think of only one gift sweeter than any honey you bring me,” he whispered.
“And what would that be, Your Grace?”
“You.”
This time, the kiss you shared was deep, eager, and full of longing.  Your arms wrapped around his neck as you tasted the last remnants of honey when his tongue brushed yours and elicited a low moan from deep in his chest.  Wriothesley maneuvered you against the desk and then reached for your legs, lifting you to the surface with ease and hiking up your skirt to settle between your legs. 
Hours later, when duty could no longer be pushed aside, Wriothesley would escort you back to the passageway to the surface.
You would leave with flushed cheeks and sticky thighs, with only memories of his laugh and loving gaze to ease the ache in your heart until your next visit.
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You hadn’t anticipated the possibility of another outcome. 
After all, you were married to a man sentenced to live in exile, to work in the shadows and support those sentenced to a different life than one provided on the surface.  When he told you of the circumstances, how he came to be prisoner and then warden, he wiped away your tears before they could spill and you understood that he held a love far larger than himself.
He was not a man of sentimentality, your Wriothesley; he was a man of loyalty, of action.
So, one morning when you spotted the figure walking up the path to your humble home (modest by most standards of Fontaine’s highest rankings of nobility), your heart immediately leapt into your throat and stayed there, like a stone.
Were you hallucinating?
Surely not.
You would know that hair and gait even through the beekeeping veil currently clenched in your hands.  The report of recent events arrived with your morning post and you were keen to set to work.  If you worked, you could not worry about the murmurs of Fatui presence, the recent trial with a Harbinger, nor your cook’s mumbling about the prophecy you grew up hearing.
Wriothesley was working on a solution, one that only solidified his sense of duty to the nation that gave him a second chance. 
His gray eyes skimmed over you from heel to head as he drew closer in the cresting morning light, golden rays catching the fastenings of his overcoat.  You couldn’t even get a word out of your mouth before he cupped your face and kissed you, ardently, thumbs brushing just under your eyes. 
“Wriothesley—” you gasped, his name nothing more than a rush of air when the kiss broke and you were wrapped in his arms, his presence sturdy, warm.
When you pulled away, you could see the fine lines from lack of sleep, the way worry had settled into the corners of his mouth and the hardness of his eyes.  He hid them well but he always lowered his metaphorical mask around you, just enough for the truth to peer out.
“I had to deliver a report to the Chief Justice in-person.  It didn’t make sense to come all this way only to not see you,” he said softly.  “They’ll just have to forgive me for breaking protocol to see my wife at least one more time.”
His expression softened and his gaze traced over you the way an artist’s brush touched canvas.  Wriothesley pried one hand from your hat and bringing it to your lips.  “Your Grace.”
Your face grew hot as you held his gaze and you couldn’t help but match his smile.  How long had it been since he’d been up here, on the surface, at your too-empty home?
“I was going to check on the hives and fields before breakfast.  Care to join me?”
“Nothing I’d love more.”
At this hour, the hives were quiet, as were the fields.  The sky was finally beginning to turn from inky blue to orange, gold, and pink beyond the lines of trees surrounding the property.  A new morning, full of potential, even if the colors were slightly different for him.
You weren’t sure who turned first, who initiated the slow kiss that only seemed to deepen with every passing second.  Time itself seemed to stop when you tugged slightly on Wriothesley’s tie to bring him down into the tall grass.  He complied, arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him as the soft blades beneath you gave way.
“Adventurous this morning, aren’t you, my Duchess?” Wriothesley teased above you, his knee nestled in the perfect spot between your legs.
“Mmm, more like taking advantage of the opportunity while we have it,” you replied, smiling as you reached up to kiss him.
Your body reacted to him like metal in a thunderstorm every time, instantly aware of your own needs, overwhelmed by the love that flooded your heart.  Distance was difficult for ordinary couples and the decision to continue, to marry, hadn’t been easy.
But this sensation, moments where you were the only two in the entire world.  It made all the struggles worth it. 
“Sunlight comes with you everywhere, makes you almost glow…” he whispered.
You reached for him, pushed his coat from his shoulders and made quick work of his shirt buttons, exposing his scarred chest.  In return, the stays of your dress were pulled apart, the fabric pooling at your waist and revealing your breasts, nipples hardening in the slight morning chill.
“I can’t remember the last time I smelled grass.  Smelled flowers, wild flowers not yet cut.  Nothing smells the same down there, where the sun can never reach…always smells like burnt metal.”
His mouth was hot on your skin, hungry but tempered as his teeth grazed the column of your neck and his lips found your breasts.  A jolt ran through you from heart to core as he flicked his tongue over your nipple and then sucked, just enough to elicit a gasp from you.  His free hand traced the curve of your other breast before he switched, tongue swirling gently.
Your hands found purchase in his black and gray hair, mussing it further as he worked downwards and pushed your skirts up to your waist.  He gazed up at you through his lashes as he pushed aside your panties, fingers dancing along your folds and finding you slick and swollen.
“Beautiful,” he breathed against your thighs, the words tickling your sensitive flesh.  His tongue brushed your lips and he moaned softly.  “Tastes as exquisite as it looks.”
His hand parted your folds a little further and his tongue returned to stroke you.  You arched your back as he swirled circles against your clit, a familiar sensation sitting low in your belly to stoke the throbbing ache deep inside you.  Your fingers in Wriothesley’s hair tightened as you pulled slightly in your eagerness, unsure if you wanted him to stop or push you over the edge.
“Don’t worry, Your Grace, I wouldn’t finish you so quickly,” Wriothesley teased.  “But I do want to savior you.”
True to his word, you never peaked.  But he did keep you on the precipice, eternally aware of the white-hot heat searing through your veins and your ever-growing need to be even closer to him.
Wriothesley only pulled away after pressing one finger into your wet heat and kissing your clit with a flick of his tongue.  You looked towards him, craning your neck to find your essence across his jaw and chin, glistening in the morning light.  His gaze was lost for a moment, memorizing you. 
After all, you never knew when the next time to see each other would come.  You might be able to predict and show up with a jar of honey and steal hours of his time.  Or, as you were this morning, you might be informed of events beyond almost anyone’s control.
You watched as Wriothesley freed himself from the confines of his trousers and positioned himself above you again.  He brushed himself against your wet folds, back and forth, and he groaned.
“I love that sound.  So wet for me…”
Your eyes never left his as he pressed into you, slow and steady, and buried himself to the hilt.  Deep inside, your walls were already squeezing.  Both of you let out a sound that begged the other to hold on a little longer.
You craned your neck up as Wriothesley bent down, foreheads pressed together and eyes fluttering shut as he withdrew entirely before starting with slow, deep strokes.
“Need this to last,” he whispered against your lips.  “To feel every inch of you around me.”
His composure slowly slipped away as you tilted your head and kissed him, sweet and full.  You wrapped your arms around him, hands finding his shoulder muscles.  One of your feet, devoid of its shoe, rested at the top of his thigh; just before he could pull out entirely again, you pushed him deeper inside of you. 
“I want to feel you even when you’re gone,” you murmured.  “So I have something to tell me this wasn’t just a dream.”
More words sprung to your mind but they were washed away by the fire building within you.  Wriostheley grunted as your walls squeezed slightly, begging him for more.  You caught a mischievous glint in your husband’s eyes when he pulled back slightly and reached for your foot.  He gently folded your leg and pressed it against you, giving him a better angle.
“I have a better idea.”  He wriggled slightly and you gasped as he twitched deep inside you at the perfect spot.  “I’ll come right here…fill you up over and over…”
He sped up his pace, your breathing ragged as your scents mingled with the grass and wildflowers.  The coil deep in your belly tightened and you felt everything else fall away as your toes curled and white-hot heat threatened your entire existence.
“Wriothesley—"
Light exploded across your vision as you shuddered and convulsed around him, underneath him.  It was too much and not enough all at once, your hips bucking as Wriothesley helped you ride out the aftershocks.  He twitched again, burying his face in your neck as he released inside you.
He pulled away only enough to push your hair out of your face and grin down at you, eyes bright.  His face was flushed and his hair absolutely ruined but backlit by the morning sun, he looked almost otherworldly. 
“I’d like that,” he said softly.  “To see you carry my child.  Our child.”
You wriggled your hips again, your bodies still coupled.  Wriothesley hissed and shifted his weight slightly to keep you from moving.  He was just as sensitive as you were and you couldn’t help but grin up at him.
“If you keep that up, we’ll be here all morning, Your Grace.”
“Good.”
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hoshigray · 1 month
Note
Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)
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“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”
“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”
You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 
Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.
With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.
That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 
Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.
In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.
Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!
How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.
Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.
And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”
“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”
Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??
But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.
The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.
However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.
“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”
Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 
Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 
This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.
So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”
His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.
However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.
“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”
You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 
“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”
You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 
But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“
“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”
With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”
He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”
And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 
“Aww, you two are so cute together~”
You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.
Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.
The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”
“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”
The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”
Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”
“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”
The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.
The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 
“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”
“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”
Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”
“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 
Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“
“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”
And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”
Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”
It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 
It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 
When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 
Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 
Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 
“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 
The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.
You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 
“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”
The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”
“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”
With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 
And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 
“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”
Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 
“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 
“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 
“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”
“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  
Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”
You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”
Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 
“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”
You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 
“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”
Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 
“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 
“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“
Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 
After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”
“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”
“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”
Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.
Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 
The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 
“Hey, Y/n.”
Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“
“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”
“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”
“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”
Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”
“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”
“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”
“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”
“Oh, eat horse shit.”
“Croak and die.”
You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.
…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?
Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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kentopedia · 7 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ my girl — nanami kento
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summary: you know the kid that kento mentors has a little crush on you; why wouldn't you use that to your advantage?
contents: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, brat taming, possessive sex, semi-public sex, hair pulling, pet names, praise, dom nanami, jealousy, ino has the hots for you, unprotected sex, kinda deg, slight dumbification, um i think that's it clearly i am so desperate for nanami and i haven't even watched the new episode — 2.3k
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under the table, you slide your palm up kento’s thigh as he speaks.
he's explaining something about sorcerer politics that you’re not really interested in hearing about, not when there’s an ache between your thighs that he refused to take care of before you left, and his sleeves are rolled up in the way he knows drives you crazy. 
across from the two of you, ino sits, attentively listening to your husband as, every few seconds, his eyes subtly slide over to you, the pink flush on his cheeks returning each time he glances at the soft smile that rests on your glossy lips. 
ino’s crush on you is no secret. he is, really, quite obvious about how much he wants your attention.
of course, he knows about you and kento, has known since he first set eyes on you at a sorcerers’ meeting and asked you, slyly, if you were single.
kento had come up behind you not a moment later, smiling with a golden band on his ring finger, asking ino if he forgot to introduce his wife. 
and though the younger sorcerer respects nanami, perhaps more than anyone, it does little to quell the attraction he has for his wife… especially since you are so insistent on teasing the poor kid at every chance you get. 
you can’t help it, really, when it riles kento up so easily. the way he vibrates under his skin with anger, irritated that another person could ever think of his wife in any manner that is less than respectable. 
kento sets your hand gently back down on your lap, jaw clenching as his fingers twist around your wrist tightly. though he hides his irritation well, you can tell from the sharp glint in his eye, the tension in his shoulders, that it is getting the best of him. 
your husband may be sweet, a lover that never acts rashly out of anger, but he has a possessive streak he’s never been very good at taming. 
as kento stiffens, you smile sweetly at ino, who exhales heavily, shifting all of his attention on your husband. though, you are staring him down, listening attentively to every word that he says.
while ino speaks, you slide your hand back over kento’s thigh, vying for his attention. he clears his throat, a warning, as he grips your wrist once more and pushes you away.
it won’t be much longer before he snaps. kento's sitting straighter, back taut as he focuses his gaze sharply on the younger man across from him. whatever the two of them are speaking about is dull, repetitive talk about work that you are bored of. 
“so, ino,” you finally ask, the lull in the conversation that you've been waiting for. you speak up before kento can ask any more questions about the sorcerer’s progress. “any pretty sorcerers caught your eye?” you lean froward with a small grin, your breasts fully on display as you set your chin in your palm. “surely someone as charming as you already has a girlfriend."
ino turns red then, a flush spreading from every corner as he tries, so hard, not to let his eyes fall. you admire the effort, really, even though kento catches the moment the younger man's gaze drops, the half second he stares at your tits and squirms in his seat. 
“n-no,” ino stutters, nervous for the first time in this conversation; he is usually so loud and outspoken, never feeling shy about the words that leave his lips. “can’t seem to find many sorcerers my age.” 
you laugh. it’s true that there are few sorcerers from his year, but you know it is the wrong thing to say.
anger radiates off your husband, and with a sense of satisfaction, you trace your fingers back up his thigh before grinning, batting your eyelashes at ino.
“why not go for someone older, then?” you ask, palming a hand over the steadily growing bulge in kento’s pants
ino chokes, and kento grabs your hand roughly, shoving your fist back onto his lap as he steadies all his anger and buries it down.
“excuse me,” kento suddenly interrupts, and his voice is so calm, so smooth, that its almost like nothing is out of the ordinary. he slides out of the booth, running a palm over his slacks, palms sweaty from his annoyance. “i just remembered i’ve got an important phone call to make. could we put a pause on this conversation?” he is so polite as he nods his head, and ino blinks, looks between the two of you, uncertain if he’s done something wrong. 
“of course,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “take you time.” 
“would you come with me, sweetheart?” kento turns to you then, and he sounds normal, like there’s nothing wrong, but his hands flex at his side, and his eyes are narrowed almost imperceptibly.
kento’s mad, and you know you’re fucked; but you can't help the desire that sits heavily in your stomach, the way you’re already soaking your panties, wanting him inside you. 
“sure, ken.” you nod, smiling at him. “sorry, ino, we’ll back right back.”
you stand next to your husband, who places a heavy hand on your shoulder, a warning. but you love the feeling of his skin on your own and it does little to stop your teasing; it only makes you want him more. 
ino says nothing as kento leads you around the restaurant, takes you to the back of the shop where there are two single-person bathrooms. one is occupied, and the other, empty. 
the two of you go inside.
“are you trying to embarrass me?” kento says angrily, shoving you into the bathroom as he locks the door behind him, his eyes hungry at the sight of your flushed cheeks, the way you are already so desperate for him. he pushes you towards the sink, eyes flashing as you reach for him, hastily undoing his tie. “you’re acting like a fucking brat whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.”
“maybe you don’t,” you counter, yanking off his tie so you can unbutton his shirt, slide your hands across the expanse of his chest. god, you want him so fucking bad. you’re aching, arousal pooling in your panties as your husband lifts you, shoves you back onto the sink. “you wouldn’t even take care of me before you left—“ 
“don’t start.” he glares and unzips his slacks to free his half-hard cock, stroking it as you try to get your hands on him. though that attempt is feeble as kento grabs both your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. with the other, he hikes your dress up, pushing it along your smooth thighs.
his voice is low and dangerous, deepening as he dances fingertips along your skin. “you’re so fucking desperate for attention that you’ll take it from anyone.” he pins you with his hard gaze, and you’re hot all over, legs shaking with anticipation. “i bet you like that he wants to fuck you so bad, even when you know i can fuck you better.”
you whimper, eyelids fluttering as kento reaches under your dress to pull down your panties.
“prove it, then” you say, and you know you’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, annoying him further as you grope at him. you squirm, trying to release your wrists from his hold, but he’s so strong; you’re only left a writhing mess under his touch. “i want you, kento.” 
“yeah?” he asks, yanking your panties roughly down your thighs, the pair that has already been soaked through. “if i give you what you want, will you sit there quietly like a good girl, and stop flirting with the kid who wants something he can’t have?” 
the tone sends aching need throughout you, and the commanding presence of his voice is almost too much. “i promise,” you say, shaking as you lock your heels around his hips. “please.” 
“please,” kento repeats mockingly, eyes hard as he slips a finger inside of you. he slides right in, barely needing to prep you before he fucks you. “you should be embarrassed; you’re this fucking wet just from looking at me." his eyes harden. "so impatient that you can’t even wait until we get home.” 
“i’ve been patient all day,” you say, high-pitched, but you’re quickly silenced as kento slides in and out of you, setting a steady pace while his thick fingers squelch inside your aching pussy. “need you to—“ 
“stop making demands." he releases your wrists to place a hand on your hips, stop you from fucking yourself on his fingers. “shouldn’t even be giving you what you want, but i can’t help myself. you’re so pretty, so desperate to have my cock inside you that you can’t even sit still.” 
“kento, fuck,” you groan, grabbing his shoulders as he stretches his fingers deeper inside you, past the walls that clamp down on him. in a desperation to keep quiet, you try to kiss him, moan into his mouth so no one else can hear you. 
but he grips your hair tightly, pulls you away from his lips as you moan, loudly, into the tight space of the bathroom. “nice try.” his fingers pump in and out of your soaked cunt. “but i want everyone to hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart. need them to know who’s fucking the brat out of you.” 
you try to pull him towards you, shift him closer with your ankles. “kento—”
“louder.” 
“kento, fuck, baby, please. i want you so bad, i love you—” you’re almost screaming, desperate to cum as his thumb brushes against your clit, teasing, and not enough for you to find complete release.
but you’re squeezing so tightly around his fingers that he must know you’re close, even as he pulls out of you, the juices from your need for him soaking his knuckle. 
finally, he smiles at you, softly.
“there’s my good girl,” he says, and it reminds you why you never want anyone else but him, why you need him, desperately, all the time. kento’s cock is already aching, leaking, and he forces it into you without warning, grunting into your neck. “sometimes, you're just so fucking stupid when you want my cock.” 
you nod, whimpering out a breathy moan as he thrusts into you, hard and rough, still holding you by the hair so you can’t kiss him, even as much as you want to. 
you’re so hot all over, skin burning as he stretches you. “please, let me cum, ken,” you say, and there’s tears in your eyes; you’re so close, but you want to be good for him, want to show him how much you love him. 
he hums against your neck, watches you writhe as he forces himself deeper into you, burying his cock in your pussy completely.
you can’t help the sinful noises that leave your throat, echoing down the vents to the kitchen, to the dining room. and maybe everyone in the restaurant can hear your husband fucking you, but you don’t care, not when you’ve waited this long for him to be inside you. 
“so pretty,” he says, sharply, and finally, he lets his hands fall from your hair, holds your hips instead, bringing you harder onto his cock. 
a tear rolls down your cheek and you bite down on your tongue to keep from screaming, whimpering at the aching pleasure in your entire body. 
“you’re mine,” kento says, kissing you sloppily, hungrily as you thread your fingers through his hair. his tip brushes the sensitive spot inside you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stop yourself from cumming. “mine, mine, mine. no one else should ever get to fucking look at you if they can’t tell who you belong to.” 
“i don’t want anyone but you,” you say, and you’re almost shouting, saliva all over your mouth as you drool from his harsh kisses. "i'm yours, kento."
you feel him smile against your lips. “that’s my girl,” he says, voice rough as he grips you tightly, nearing his own orgasm. “you wanna cum, pretty? make a mess on my my cock, sweetheart. i’m so close.” 
his thrusts grow sloppy, and you grip his shoulders as he fucks deep into you cunt, forcefully, and, finally, you cry out, toes curling as you cum, hard, around him.
kento’s face is flushed, sweat at his hairline as his tips edges against your cervix, almost painfully, before he’s toppling over the edge, biting down hard on your shoulder with a groan. hot ropes spill into your cunt, and you're still writhing, moaning from sensitivity as his warm seed settles deep within you. 
he’s so pretty; you kiss him over and over, the loose hair that sticks to his forehead, the flush on his cheeks. “mmm,” you hum, tasting the coffee on his tongue. “love you so much, kento,” 
“you say that now,” he says curtly, slowly dragging himself out of your tight walls. “but wait until we get home.” 
already, your pussy aches again, and you’re too warm, sweating as kento fixes his hair in the mirror. 
you try to slide your panties back on, reach for where they've pooled at your ankles, but kento is faster. he yanks them away, folds them up nicely to tuck into his pocket. 
“kento—”
“leave them off,” he says, sniffing as his cheeks slowly return to their normal color. “maybe ino will stop thinking about fucking my wife if he sees my cum running down her thighs.” 
you stare at him, blinking, but you don’t have the energy or the willpower to fight anymore. instead, you obey, standing as a mix of kento's cum and your own juices seep onto your inner thigh, creating a sticky mess between your legs.
your husband unlocks the door, and you follow him back into the dining room, where ino is subtly sliding back into the booth, his cheeks red, a bulge obvious in his pants. he glances between the two of you with wide eyes, and darts his gaze back down between your legs, before staring at kento uncomfortably. 
“did you get your call sorted out?” he asks, and his voice is higher, squeakier as you sit down with your husband. 
kento smirks, satisfied. “it’s been taken care of.”
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i need him to fuck me so bad
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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months
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Miguel w/an Innocent S/O
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Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.
Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.
If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.
You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.
He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(
Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.
Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.
He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.
On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.
However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.
One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.
Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.
You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.
He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.
Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.
He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.
He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.
His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”
“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.
“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.
Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.
He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.
It’s worth it, though. The strain.
Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.
“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”
Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.
Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.
Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.
More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.
He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.
He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.
He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.
Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.
And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.
Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.
He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.
Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.
He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.
And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.
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