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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Note

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

NEEDLE IN THE HAY

18+ / mdi

summary: after swearing off dating due to a messy breakup, wonwoo finds himself being forced out of the house by mingyu, joining the 97 squad as an honorary member. what wonwoo didn't realize, however, was that he'd end up swallowing his words after meeting the newest addition to the friend group.

content: idol!wonwoo x idol!reader, pining, friends to lovers, wonwoo's pov, reader is a 97 liner, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, angst (with a happy ending), some self-deprecating thoughts from wonu </3

wc: 8.5k

a/n: can u guys tell i love idol aus or what .. anyways, this time i used proper capitalization since this is long as fuck! hope u enjoy even if its a bit of a mess <3

masterlist kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

Wonwoo was going through a slump.

As commonly known by his fans (and probably non fans too, by now), Wonwoo had a girlfriend prior to debuting. He's not entirely sure how the news came about to the public (something about a trainee leaking information ..?), but in reality that didn't really matter. What mattered now was that he now had to relive his messy breakup over and over again as people made it a bit of a 'meme' among the fandom. It wasn't like it made it to the news or anything, but even the reminder was enough to bring back the bad memories surrounding it. All the low self-esteem and doubtfulness that was attached to it. The breakup might've been distant by now, but the news breaking out were fresh, causing Wonwoo's wounds to reopen.

Now, Wonwoo didn't blame carats for this. Under any other circumstance he would've also found it comedic, but after it being a few years since the breakup and not managing to find a long-term relationship ever since, Wonwoo found himself in a slump once more, just like he felt when he was freshly broken up.

She, who shall not be named, was one of his closest friends in grade school. She hung around when he was nothing more than a lanky loser (not his words, but that of a few rowdy kids at school). She'd seen him and respected him before the world even knew his name. And then she'd become more than a friend.

As Wonwoo first made the decision to join Pledis, he was entirely unsure of himself. He wasn't untalented by absolutely any means, that much even he knew. He was growing to be a handsome young man, and was discovering new skills every day. But he didn't feel like he stood out enough to make it all the way to debut. His girlfriend, however, stood by him and gave him the strength to continue, which he did in hopes of making not only his family proud, but what he believed to be the love of his life proud too. Okay, maybe that was a bit too much, but he was a teenager, who could blame him for thinking himself in love?

Soon after came his debut. Things were going great. The sole fact that he had made it to debut with 12 of his friends and fellow trainees had him over the moon. He had fans now; supporters who thought the world of him. He had a happy family waiting for him at home, and a girl he was infatuated with that he could keep all to himself, away from the public eye. Everything was perfect. Until it wasnt.

It was as predictable as you'd imagine. The fame, the limelights, the constantly-changing schedules. It was all too much for someone who could do no more than watch from the sidelines. The issues began a few years into his debut. He felt her begin to pull away. To be fair, he might've unconsciously pulled away first, but his life was getting too hectic for things to be the same as before. Maybe it was his fault for believing that she would evolve along with his life, willing to follow him as he continued his journey with his 12 friends.

If that had been the end, maybe it would've been okay. But the breakup had not happened just yet. We could've stayed friends if we had only ended it there, he'd thought many times. Unfortunately for Wonwoo, a clean break just was not in his cards. He found out about it through his younger brother. The betrayal. The disrespect. The heartbreak. He would've rathered she'd broken his heart face to face, you know? Maybe that way it wouldn't have hurt years into the future as it continued to do.

She had found someone else. It was some guy she met in college (something Wonwoo thought he'd do someday, but had chosen the life of an artist instead). There was nothing wrong with the guy, it just wasn't Wonwoo. He thought that maybe if she'd told him, he would've understood, would've been sad, but would've respected her decision, but no, she made her choice. Had she forgotten to break up with him beforehand? Was he just an afterthought? These were the questions that plagued Wonwoo's mind years after the fact. He had decided to confront her with what his brother had seen. Them together at a cafe, too close for comfort. What was saddest was her lack of denial. She didn't even fight back; fight for him. She had turned it around into his fault. As if he'd forced her hand. What broke Wonwoo more than the betrayal was the look of disdain in her eyes. It made him feel like maybe he was the villain. That maybe even if he tried, he just couldn't be loved in that way.

That's how he found himself in this situation. Two years past the five year long relationship, coming across another post detailing a theory of whether or not Wonwoo was still with his 'pre-debut girlfriend', as people liked to call her. He believed himself to be over the girl, but couldn't find himself to admit whether or not he was over the hurt. Only time would tell, he guessed.

"Come on, hyung. You can't stay here every time you have one of your episodes. It's been years, you have to move on!"

Mingyu was getting ready for another outing with his famous 97 squad; this time the attendees being Eunwoo, Jungkook, and Y/N. He was trying, yet again, to convince his elder of joining him and his friends. Maybe he wasn't a 97-liner, but he was well-liked by all the members of the group, and he figured the outing would do his friend some good, seeing as he was once again down in the dumps over his old girlfriend.

"I told you it's not that, Mingyu," responded Wonwoo, barely facing away from his computer, once again gaming during his very limited free time.

"Okay, if you're truly not sad about that anymore, then come out with us! It's been a while since you've even left the apartment, and you've never actually accepted any of my invites out! If you don't like it, we'll leave. It's all people you've already met anyways," reasoned, a very stubborn Mingyu.

"I don't actually know any of them, Gyu. Saying hello whenever they come visit you doesn't really count as knowing a person."

"Okay! Fine! What do you want? What do I have to give to get my best friend to hang out with me? Money? You're rich! What? You wanna play video games? They like video games, too! Come. On. Just this once."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, knowing his friend meant well, but not wanting to be around people while he had one of his usual slumps.

He pondered it for a minute. Maybe it'd be nice to be with other people like him. He'd never really made friends within the industry outside of the members and a few people he'd politely nod to as he walked the hallways of Hybe. Maybe it was time he broke out of his shell and befriended other people who would understand the loneliness that came with being an idol.

"Fine," he replied before his friend could hit him with another rebuttal to his denials. "Just this once."

Wonwoo didn't know what he was expecting any time Mingyu would bring up his outings with the 97's. With Mingyu's extroverted and eccentric personality, both in and out of the public eye, he assumed he meant clubbing or at least hitting up a pub. He wasn't sure what you or Jungkook or Eunwoo were into, but he assumed you'd be somewhat like Mingyu. But he couldn't have been more wrong.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that his loud friend's friends all had a very striking contrast to him. The three idols sitting around him in Eunwoo's (whose name was actually Dongmin, apparently) apartment all seemed very quiet and calm. Their personalities also all seemed to match his better than that of Mingyu's, which made him come to the realization that maybe that was how they'd all befriended each other; through the overgrown puppy's incessant need to befriend everyone in every room he walked into.

Wonwoo appreciated Mingyu, truly. His outgoing nature would sometimes make a shy guy like Wonwoo, who liked to keep himself as small as possible, a little uneasy at times, but be appreciated his best friend's constant aid in getting Wonwoo's mood up. Even now. He hated to admit it, but his sudden decrease in mood seemed to be rapidly disappearing thanks to the new change of environment.

He had quickly taken a liking to Mingyu's three friends.

Dongmin was nice and insightful. A pretty face and a very interesting mind. He saw a bit of himself in him.

Jungkook was polite and funny. He was the perfect balance of childhood friend and college heartrob.

You. Well, Wonwoo hadn't quite figured you out yet. Admittedly, this had been the first time you'd ever spoken past a polite greeting or an inquiry for Mingyu's whereabouts, but he had been able to get a read for the other two members of the group. You were the outlier.

What he knew, though, was that he liked you. Okay, not like that, but there was an easiness that you seemed to carry with you. You were simply easy for him to fall into conversation with. It had already been a few hours (and a few drinks) since Wonwoo and Mingyu had arrived to Dongmin's apartment, and you and Wonwoo had been engaged in ongoing conversation shortly after arriving. And the conversation didn't seem to be heading towards its end any time soon. It had begun as a group outing (well, indoors), but to Wonwoo it now felt like a one-on-one, as the three remaining members of the 97's seemed distracted on their own, leaving you and Wonwoo to converse with each other freely.

"Okay, yeah. That can be kind of annoying, but how can you complain about Mingyu?! He's such a sweet guy," you laughed, responding to one of the many lighthearted disses of Mingyu Wonwoo had been feeding you with.

"You don't have to live with him. He's even louder at home," he chuckled.

"Then move out! I live alone now, finally. I love my members, but there's nothing as nice as being alone after coming home from hectic schedules."

"Yeah, I can imagine. Can't do that, though. I don't really like being alone that much," he revealed.

"You? Really? Then how come it's taken Mingyu this long to get you out of the house?," you inquired, leaning towards him with interest.

That was something he liked about you immediately. You listened. You showed visible interest in what he had to say. Granted, none of the things you'd been talking about thus far were groundbreaking (so far you'd managed to speak of predebut stories, hopes for your respective groups, current hobbies, a few movie and book recommendations here and there, and endless other things), but he still appreciated someone outside of his family and members who showed interest in what he had to say. Still, part of him believed he might've been so starved for affection he could've just been reading too much into it.

"Oh," he chuckled. "He told you about that?"

"Fuck. Okay, don't tell him I said this. And I mean it, I trust you, Wonwoo," you paused. "He told us he'd been trying to get you out of the house a bit ... that you'd been feeling down."

Oh. Okay, now he felt a bit awkward. Why would Mingyu give opening for him to receive pity even from strangers?

"Oh. I-"

"So, I insisted he invited you come out with us."

Oh?

"You did? I .. How come?"

"Well. Honestly? I've been there. Having your members is great and all. And if you have a supportive family, that's even better. But our lifestyle's too isolated to not have as many people around us as we can. I don't know how I managed to navigate the industry before meeting Mingyu. He really took me under his wing and made sure I felt welcomed with the other 97's, even with all the shit he got for hanging out with a female idol so publicly."

So, that's how you'd met. Man, he's always known Mingyu as one of the nicest people he's ever met, but this truly made him take the cake. He remembered the articles that came out about both you him (and a few of the other 97-liners) when they'd made you the first female addition to the friend group. He didn't pay them much mind, seeing as dating rumours come by the dozens among idols, but he hadn't really stopped to think about how it might've affected you.

"Did he tell you about .. why I kept saying no?"

"No. And I didn't want to intrude. Your battles are your own, Wonwoo, unless you want to share them."

Well, fuck. He was wrong. Well, right. Both. You did care. You didn't even know him, but you still cared. Or at least it seemed like it. He couldn't really wrap his head around the concept. He hadn't let anyone in (other than his 12 brothers) about what had happened. He had never felt the need to. He felt embarrassed by it. I mean, it was just a break up; an old one no one even knew about. Yes, he got cheated on, but it had been years ago. He should be over it by now. Even though people kept bringing his ex up. But why did he feel like he could confide in you?

He considered it. Telling you, that is. But he quickly realized that was just the alcohol talking. You had just met. He didn't want to scare you away. Hmm. Maybe he should circle back on this thought at some point. He also didn't want to make you privy to the most embarrassing thing about him (the green room shenanigans did not hold a candle to his pathetic heartbreak story if he had anything to say about it). So, he decided to save it for another time. He'd already decided in his head that he'd want to see you again. Maybe he would take up Mingyu on his offer to join the 97's as an honorary member.

The conversation eventually circled back to something more lighthearted, allowing Wonwoo to enjoy your company for a few more hours before Mingyu decided it was time for them to leave, knowing his friends probably had busy days tomorrow, just like any idol would.

Wonwoo couldn't sleep. The effects of the alcohol were fully gone by now; his loose tongue tightened back up and his mood regulated once again. Despite that, his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He had originally chalked it up to alcohol, how he felt a strange sense of disappointed upon having to bid his goodbye to you earlier tonight. But, lying in bed many hours later, he realized it was all still in his head. Your long-winded conversation, the drinks you shared together, the genuine care in your eyes, even Mingyu's stupid smirk as they walked back into their apartment, muttering something along the lines of 'I knew you'd have fun'. It was all still running around in his head, depriving him of sleep. He felt an odd sense of anxiousness. Excitement, maybe? He wasn't sure. He was looking forward to finding out though.

The next day was filled with schedules. A quick appearance at a comeback show in the morning, followed by a fitting back at the Hybe building, along with a few hours of practice with the boys. He'd always enjoyed hectic days like this. While tiring, they kept his mind occupied, and allowed him to spend the day with some of the people he treasured the most. Seeing carats early in the morning was also a treat. Even if for only a few minutes, walking past the crowd of people waiting for his arrival at MNET was always nice. It made him put a face (well, multiple) to the people who loved him most.

He was now ending his day, just as soon as it had started, when he heard a voice call to him from across the long hallway. Turning around, he found ... you? you! what were you doing here?

"Wonwoo! Wait up!", you quickly caught up to him as he halted his movements in order to wait for you. You two then began walking together.

"Hey ? What are you doing here?"

You stopped. "Really? Wonwoo! I work here? My group's been here for a few months now, did you never notice? Hybe acquired my company last year," despite your shock at his ignorance, there was no actual anger or annoyance in your voice.

He felt kind of bad. You'd spent grand part of last night letting Wonwoo know how much attention you'd paid to Mingyu's retellings of Wonwoo's problems only for him to not know the most basic of things about you. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was with small details like this that his ex began to pull away.

"Oh, wait, Wonwoo. I'm not actually mad, I'm sorry. I just assumed you already knew," his face must've told on him. He had to admit that he was kind of paranoid after what had happened. He'd already ruined a few friendships (along with the relationship) with his lack of attention to the people around him. He didn't want to add you to the list of failed relationships so soon.

"Ah. Sorry. I don't really keep track of those things too often. I'm too distracted sometimes."

"I get you. There's too many new groups at Hybe for you to have noticed anyway. Anyways! Are you done for the day?"

He felt his heart accelerate at the thought of you wanting to know what his future whereabouts would be.

"Uh, yeah. I was heading home actually?"

"What? Nooo! Mingyu's taking Jungkook and I out to a little discreet pub he knows. You should come with. Please. They're so annoying when Dongmin's missing," you pleaded, making eyes at him.

You wanted him to come? You were inviting him? He hadn't really gone out for a few weeks (since he began to see people speak of his 'pre-debut ex-girlfriend' that everyone assumed was still in the picture). He had to admit, he found it kind of funny how carats would whine at the idea of him being taken. That was kind of the silver lining; a slight lift to his bad mood surrounding it. He-

"Wonwoo? It's okay if you don't wanna come. I don't wanna pressure you!"

Oh, shit. He was in his head again. He needed to break these habits if he wanted to work on his people skills.

"Oh, sorry. No, I was thinking of something else, sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, "I .. yeah, I'd love to come," he found himself agreeing.

Wonwoo was not an awkward man by any means. His fans and many others knew him as a charming guy, which he really was. He was just going through a weird period in his life. That and you made him nervous for some reason.

"Great,"you smiled back at him, further increasing the speed of his heart.

Wonwoo was extra exhausted after today's events, not being used to outings with people outside of his members after already tiresome days. For some reason, his social battery always drained almost immediately when around people he wasn't too familiar with, and tonight he'd chosen to spend the night at a pub full of strangers. But, hey, at least you were there.

Once more, you and Wonwoo found yourselves in one-on-one conversation. Although Mingyu had been slightly surprised to see his friend arrive with you at the selected meeting spot at the pub, he gave Wonwoo a knowing smile, glad to have his friend out of the house once again.

The goodbye was, again, dreadful for Wonwoo. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't usually someone to get attached so easily, but your name just called to his ever since that first time he met you. This time had worsened his condition. You drank together, exchanged numbers, maybe even flirted(?) a little, and then went your own ways, sharing a quick hug as you departed.

He hated to rush things (even if it was only in his head), but he had to admit to himself that he liked you. Yeah, like that. He felt like a teenager again; giddy at the thought of you, crushing on the pretty girl his friend introduced him to. He had unofficially sworn off dating two years ago when he broke up with her, but it wasn't like that was too big of an effort considering his dating market as an idol wasn't very expansive anyways. He also didn't want to assume things. You were just a friend. But you were also so pretty, and nice, and you had so much in common with him, you even shared a career! You were just his type, he realized. He wondered why you hadn't dated any of the 97's before. Wait, maybe you had a boyfriend. One Wonwoo, of course, wouldn't know about since you'd just met. Fuck. There he went again, letting his mind spiral over the smallest of things. He needed to give himself a break and just enjoy your friendship. Enjoy the good things he had instead of thinking of the bad. That had been a struggle lately.

You and Wonwoo continued to meet occasionally like that. Eventually meeting almost daily at the company. You'd stop by his practice room to hang out during work, and vice versa. He also found himself begging Mingyu to let him join in on his outings, wanting to see you even after work. He tried to be casual about it, but as soon as his smug friend realized the reason behind Wonwoo's sudden interest, he teased him endlessly about it, making jokes like 'But you're a 98-liner, why would you wanna hang out with us kids?,' a smirk glued to his face. He hadn't told Mingyu about his crush (nor would he ever admit to it), but Mingyu's correct assumption of his feelings for you led his friend to try and become a bit of a matchmaker. He'd now taken a habit to purposely leaving you and Wonwoo alone, even dragging his other friends away when they'd try and make conversation in order to get the two of you together. He was embarrassed by this, but was even more embarrassed that he was kind of thankful for his friend's actions.

Wonwoo had been enjoying the time he got to spend with you alone. Like now. Mingyu had invited you, Dongmin, Jungkook and Jaehyun over to his (and Wonwoo's place), something that didn't tend to happen before since Mingyu had wanted to respect Wonwoo's privacy. This was your first time here. Your first time in Wonwoo's room (door open, of course) as he showed you some of his recent photography that he'd told you about in your previous meeting. Once more, he felt like a teenager as he showed you his art, giddy at your endless compliments towards his talent.

"Jesus. So many idols pick up photography as a hobby, but I'd never seen any of them be actually good at it. Wonwoo, these are amazing!", he heard compliments like this from fans and staff alike very often, but it just had a different effect when it came from you.

He wanted to deny you; be bashful about it and chuckle a polite disagreement to your compliment, but after getting to know you better these past few weeks, he knew that wouldn't fly with you, instead opting for a shy 'thank you' in response.

"I'm serious, Wonwoo. You should do a showing or something! Your fans would love it. And .. you should teach me also!", he loved how enthusiastic you always were. It reminded him a lot of his best friend. Maybe that's why he liked the both of you so much.

He turned his head to face you as you sat next to him on his bed, lap to lap. He hadn't realized how close you had been sitting to one another in order to look at his laptop screen. Before he could scoot away, you turned your head too, now having only a few inches between your faces.

You looked at each other without saying anything, Wonwoo's breath hitching. Any reasonable man would've pulled you in for a kiss as soon as he noticed your eyes trail down to his lips, clearly inciting him to do so. But Wonwoo wasn't a very reasonable man. He was a mess of unreasonable emotions, which led him to his first mistake.

Seeing as he wasn't doing anything, you seemed to become frustrated at his lack of action, leaning in instead of him. Now, that would've been perfect if Wonwoo were, you know, normal. But the end result was less than favorable. As you leaned in, he panicked, getting up from the bed in a rush and creating a very obvious space between you. Your eyes widened, and he caught a hint of hurt and embarrassment behind them at his actions before you quickly took control of your expression.

"I, uhh. It's getting late. You have an early morning, don't you?", fuck, why the hell was he saying that?! Was he kicking you out? Wonwoo kicked himself in his mind, but his mouth kept running against his will. "I have an early morning, maybe you should, uh .."

He caught that hurt in your eyes once more as you responded. "Oh, I .. Right. Sorry .. Yes, I do, actually. I should go now .. Thanks for showing me your pictures. Have a nice night, Wonwoo," you were being far too cordial with him, seemingly making it a point of using overly formal language when the two of you had agreed before to speak casually; as friends.

He fucked it up. Again.

He watched you leave without stopping you. He had every chance to as you looked back at him one more time before exiting his room. He had another chance as he heard you close the front door to his apartment. He could've ran after you (even speed-walking would've sufficed, really), but he stood there like an idiot.

Wonwoo was right. He was incapable of love. Romantic love, at least. He still had many friends and a loving family back home, but he had been right to believe himself unlovable after his ex had left him. Turns out she was right. It was all his fault.

A few weeks had gone by since he last saw you. The text messages between you now unexistent, and the chance for reconciliation dying further every passing day. You hadn't tried to contact him after what happened, nor did you wait outside his practice room every day as you had taken a habit of doing a few weeks into your friendship. Mingyu's invites to hang out with his friends were now left unattended by Wonwoo, not wanting to sour your free time with your friends with his presence. He'd ruined everything, he admitted to himself. It was obvious to him and everyone else that your friendship had begun to blossom into something more. There had been hints here and there of your reciprocation of his feelings, but they terrified him, so he chose to ignore them.

He thought about his feelings, but not yours, he had come to realize a few days after the fact.

He had wanted to kiss you so badly. He'd dreamt about it, even. He felt silly to admit this, but you'd become such a constant in his life in such a short period of time that he found it easy to imagine you there forever now. He felt the same way he did back in high school when he believed himself to be in love with his ex. He realized now that those feelings for her had dissipated quickly after his debut. They'd only been together for so long due to the familiarity of it. Maybe that's why his ex had such a hard time breaking off things with him. Maybe that's why she chose to cheat on him instead. Maybe that familiarity was what made the situation such a mess in the first place.

He had gotten out of his slump thanks to you (and Mingyu, maybe), but now he had fallen right back into it, even worse this time.

It didn't take long for his roommate to notice his friend's absences in their outings, or the stark difference in his mood as soon as he got home every day from being an idol. Mingyu had the privilege (not really) of seeing how whatever happened between you took effect on the both of you. He saw his best friend fall back into his previous depressive state, while he saw you become a shell of yourself. He didn't know what happened, and he honestly didn't care. No one asked for his help, but he was going to give it anyways.

By some act of god, Mingyu was able to convince Wonwoo to leave their apartment long enough to participate in an upcoming outing once more. He had promised that the only other attendee would be Jungkook, as the plan was to have some drinks at the man's house. Other than you, Wonwoo had taken a special liking to Jungkook, having many things in common with him. Wonwoo had only agreed to attend in order to lessen any suspicion Mingyu may have had about the reason behind his current low mood, but he was also happy to see one of his new friends again.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, Mingyu was a meddler. He wasn't entirely sure why he was even surprised at seeing you walk across Jungkook's front door as he sat on one of his couches, drink in hand. An unsuspecting Jungkook let you in, not taking notice of your shocked face at spotting Wonwoo just a few meters away. Wonwoo should've known that Mingyu would get involved sooner or later. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed at his friend's nosy nature.

Despite your initial shock, you were polite with Wonwoo. You interacted as you used to before the two of you had gotten to know one another. Just a few nods and tight smiles. It killed him inside a little bit. He wanted to fix things; to at least get your friendship back even if he couldn't allow himself more. He would sneak glances at you as you joked and drank with your two friends, feeling a smile grace his face at your laughter. At least you were happy, he thought.

The four of you eventually ended up in one of Jungkook's many guest rooms. This one was a viewing room, as he called it. Special for whenever he wished to invite friends over for a movie. You all sat and shared some commentary at what was playing on screen. To any outsider, this would've looked like the perfect outing. And maybe it was to Mingyu and Jungkook. But the air between you and Wonwoo still felt tense, even despite the occasional nod of acknowledgement you'd make to one another whenever your eyes met.

In a very unpredictable turn of events, Mingyu had managed to get you and Wonwoo in a room alone, dragging Jungkook away under the excuse of doing an impromptu live for his fans. He knew Jungkook wouldn't miss the chance. You and Wonwoo sat next to each other in the now empty movie room, neither of you making a move. He saw you looking at your hands from his peripheral, solemn look on your face. You were usually very talkative and lively. He felt terrible at how his presence in your life had caused such a stark difference in your demeanor. So, he did what he usually wouldn't do, and spoke up first.

"I .. How have you been?"

Great way to break the silence, Wonwoo.

You sat in silence for a beat or two, "Wonwoo, it's fine. We don't have to do this. I'm already embarrassed enough as it is."

Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?

"Embarrassed? At what?"

"Do I really have to say it? I thought I read things right. I thought maybe you might've maybe liked me back. I didn't .. I didn't mean to ruin our friendship over some stupid kiss.," you wouldn't look into his eyes as you spoke, even as he uncharacteristically stared at you with all his attention.

"You ... You didn't do anything wrong. I should've talked to you. Fuck. I should've apologized. I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. I panicked. It was so soon. I didn't want to pressure you," he had gotten up now, now sitting next to you on the couch.

"Pressure me? I kissed you. Well, tried to ..." you finally turned to look at him in his new proximity. Okay, progress, "I'm sorry, I kind of had an idea of what you were going through and still pushed you. It hurt me that you froze me out like that, but if it was what you felt like you needed to do, then I understand," you said with a sad smile that didn't meet your eyes.

God, why were you so understanding? He felt like an asshole. He was an asshole. Freezing you out was not something he wanted to do to you, but the result of his cowardice. He knew he had hurt you, but your admission to it only made him feel worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong! You- you did what I wanted to do that night. What I was going to do before I backed out like a coward. I wish I'd handled things differently. I wish I'd kissed you .. I-" he was beginning to feel shy at his almost-direct admissions of his feelings towards you, but he needed to continue. He was going to continue, but you had different plans.

As per usual, you knew him better than he did himself. You knew exactly how to salvage the situation without making him open up more than he felt comfortable with doing in his current emotional state. You grabbed his face, interrupting his speech, and ..

You kissed him.

"Like that?", you'd softly asked against his lips.

It was nothing like you'd see in movies. Just a small peck accompanied by your soft hands holding onto his cheeks.

You began to pull away almost immediately, too soon for Wonwoo's comfort. But that kiss had been enough for him to finally snap into action like he should've done weeks ago.

He grabbed you this time, pulling your lips against his again, putting much more into the kiss this time.

He'd never kissed someone like this. He'd kissed many people after his breakup. Hell, he'd done far more than kissing. But none of those moments held a candle to this one. Nothing compared to your soft moans against his lips, or the feeling of your pliant back against his palm. Nothing defeated the feeling of your hands restlessly looking for a place in his body to hold on to. He kissed you with every emotion that had been piling up since you two began to really get to know each other. No, since he first began to spiral into his depressive state. There was not a single emotion in Wonwoo's body that didn't go into that kiss.

Then came other stuff.

Wonwoo hadn't really thought about the sexual aspects of his attraction to you. Other than a few of the restless nights spent alone in his room, you in mind. As he kissed you, however, he couldn't help but begin to feel aroused. You were so pretty and so so soft against his arms. You had both begun to lean down, with his body hovering over yours, holding his body weight above you as not to crush you. You kissed mindlessly for a few minutes, at some point beginning to moan messily against each other's mouths.

Your tongue eventually came out to play with his, making him lightheaded at the sudden wetness of the kiss. You both began to feel dizzy, arousal clouding your minds. Wonwoo tried to pull away, wanting to confirm if what was happening was okay with you, but you wouldn't let him. Instead you pulled him even closer, forcing him all the way on top of you, your crotches now face to face. He decided to take the risk and begin a slow grind against you, which proved rewarding as you began to mewl against his lips, allowing his tongue to roam freely inside your mouth.

Then came even more stuff.

"Wo-wonwoo, please."

God, there was no way he would make it if that's how you sounded after just some light dry humping.

He managed to actually unglue himself from you this time; eyes lidded and breath heavy.

"Baby .. let me .. can I?", he questioned, hands approaching your nether area.

You grabbed his wrist, walking him the rest of the way, nodding desperately as you pressed his hand against your clothed cunt.

"Please, yes. I need you."

He undid the drawstring from your sweats, you aiding him in lowering your sweats just below your ass.

He neared you as much as possible as he began to rub your cunt over the thin fabric of your panties, kissing and biting at your neck as you mewled at the friction. He did this for a while until he decided to bury two of his fingers inside your cunt, making sure to rub your clit lightly with his thumb. He calculated his movements, wanting to go for a slow and steady pace that would have you lightheaded.

You moaned and whined at that, your body not knowing what to do at the pleasure Wonwoo was giving you.

He began to speak against your neck, praising your beauty and the way you oh so prettyly cried for him.

"Wonwoo .. oh, fuck Wonwoo please. Please ..." he wasn't sure what you were begging for, but he wanted more of it. So he sped up, wanting nothing more than to hear your cries of pleasure as he fingered you to completion.

Upon meeting your high, you disconnected from one another, still holding a very close proximity as you shyly smiled at each other. He helped you clean up the slight mess you had made on the couch under you, pulling your sweats all the way back up and helping you get on your feet. Neither of you said anything as he guided you out of Jungkook's apartment, not bothering to say goodbye to your friends. You both knew what you wanted with just a few looks at one another.

You then found yourselves in Mingyu's car. How Mingyu was going to get home, Wonwoo didn't know nor care. Payback for meddling, Wonwoo guessed. All he wanted now was to take you home and show you how much you meant to him.

He had his left hand on the wheel while the other held your hand over the console. You both felt giddy at the small displays of affection you'd been showing each other, sharing shy smiles and blushing at catching the other staring. It was kind of funny considering your current destination. It was all mostly wordless until your fast arrival to Mingyu and Wonwoo's shared apartment, where you both finally stopped to speak before entering the door.

"Wonwoo, wait," you stopped him before he was able to put his key in the lock.

"What's wrong?"

You seemed uneasy. Maybe this was too soon? Had he gone too far by what he did in Jungkook's house? Fuck. Okay, maybe fingering you in your friend's house while your friends were in the other room right after confessing to you (did he even confess ??) wasn't the best idea for a reconciliation. Maybe he should'v-

"Are you sure about this? I .. I don't wanna pressure you ..."

You were far too considerate of his feelings for his own good. But he didn't care about his feelings right now. He cared about yours. Because if you were happy, then he was happy. He just wanted you.

He turned his body to face you, grabbed both of your hands and squeezed lovingly. He no longer felt that sense of anxiousness when speaking his feelings to you. He felt at ease, and he wanted you to also.

"I'm sure. I want you. Anything you'll give me. If you want to go past that door and just let me hold your hand, I'll take it. If you want me to drive you back home, I'll do it. If you want to tell me off for making you wait for me to grow the balls to show you how I felt, I'll understand that too. Forget about my pace. It's been enough about me. I want to think about you. It's all about you," he finished his little speech feeling not an ounce of bashfulness, but rather an uncharacteristic sense of relief. He felt more than content at freely telling you how he was feeling.

You smiled up at him. "It's always about you for me, Wonwoo."

It took a bit of convincing from you, really. Repeating over and over again pleas and words of affirmation to ease his mind. He felt bad. He did say this was all about you. Which is why he'd insistently denied you when you first walked across the door, hand in hand, and immediately begged to suck his dick. He was caught off guard at first. He wanted to take care of you for once, not the other way around. You'd argued that he already had, insisting that he'd be doing you a favour by letting you get his cock in your mouth. Now, that .. that had gotten an involuntary reaction out of him. He couldn't help himself. You were a pretty girl - now his pretty girl - practically begging to get his dick wet. Batting your eyelashes at him and running your hands up and down his chest, muttering words such as "you'll let me take care of you, won't you?", or "i just wanna make you feel good," or his favorite "just a little bit, baby, want it so bad. been dreaming about it .."

That's how he now had you on your knees as he stood with his back against his front door, hands holding your hair out of your face as you tortured him with your tongue. You had prepared him by rubbing his dick for a minute or so, then moving onto kitten licking his tip and running your tongue ever so slowly up and down the protruding veins. You were taking your time, clearly enjoying his stuttered breaths above you.

You finally wrapped your mouth around him, sucking and licking at the tip, making all thought in his mind leave him immediately. He threw his head back against the wall at the pressure and warmth of your mouth, groaning out your name.

"Fuck .. just like that. Shit, I-fuck," there was no proper sentence that could leave his mouth as you fully enveloped his cock in your mouth, moaning around it.

Then he made the mistake of looking down, staring directly into your eyes, which were rolled back in pleasure, brows furrowed in concentration as you gave him your best performance. He hadn't known pleasure like this in ages, staring down at your pretty face as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the weight of his cock on your tongue.

You continued like this, doing everything that seemed to get a reaction out of him until drawing him almost to completion.

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum. You gotta- fuck. Baby, wait. Wanna fuck you ..." he tried to stop you, not wanting to cut the night short before he could get you as close as physically possible to him, your walls warmly wrapped around him. The thought did not help matters, as he felt his end approach even sooner. You also did not seem to care, as you fastened your movements and moaned even louder against him, vibrations triggering his impending orgasm. You swallowed every bit he gave you, humming at the taste.

You must be evil, he thought, watching you continue to lightly suck and lick at him even past completion, not caring that he half-heartedly tried to push you away from the slight overstimulation. When you finally pulled away, he held your hands in order to get you back up to your full height, eyes glued to your lips. He couldn't help himself. He felt depraved at the thought, but he needed to taste you and the remnants of himself twirling in your tongue. So he did what any sensible man would do, and shoved his tongue in your mouth, intertwining yours and his as he sucked his remaining juices out of your mouth and gave them back to you as he dragged your tongue back and forth. You moaned loudly into his mouth, growing restless at the lack of pleasure where you needed him most.

You pulled away, and wordlessly gave him eyes that could only mean one thing. Your eyes always got to him. One look and he'd give you whatever you wanted, so he promptly held your hand once more and led you to his room, laying you down on his bed and slowly undressing you. He wanted to savour every part of your body he'd been dying to see. Every article of clothing he removed, he caressed the skin behind. He faced you away from him and felt you up from behind, running his hands up and down your body as you pressed yourself even more against him, dizzy at the pleasure of his hands against you. He fondled your breasts and ass, wanting to commit them to memory. You moaned at the way he touched you, enticing him to continue. After a while of worshiping your body, he laid you back down, your body now facing him, and undressed himself.

He felt a strong sense of pride at the moan the sight of his bare chest pulled out of you. Your hands drew themselves towards him as you ran them up and down his chest, forming goosebumps anywhere your fingertips graced. He finally lowered himself down and pressed your chests together, wanting to be as close as possible.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, as if it was a secret no one could ever know, "You're all mine now. Never letting you go again", he began to grind his bare length against you, now hard again against your folds.

You whined at his actions, mind clouded by his words of affection. "Nonu ... please. I need it. Need you, just- Argh! Fuck ..." he swiftly entered you, interrupting your pleas for him.

God, you felt so tight and warm around him. Your body so pliant and soft against his. He had never felt more bliss than when you arched your back and pressed your tits against his chest, harshly digging your nails on his shoulders as you moaned out his name.

Pleasure overtook his mind, making him wax poetic at you endlessly, letting out his deepest of feelings for you.

"Want you always. Can't breathe without you."

"Never wanna be away from you again. You're everything."

"Gonna keep you ... keep you close to me. Just like this ..."

Then came something not even he expected himself to utter.

"L-love you. Fuck. So much. Is it too soon? I love you. Never felt like t-fuck .. like this before."

His words seemed to have an instant effect on you, as you tightened impossibly harder around him, crying his name as your orgasm suddenly hit you. The tightening of your walls, along with knowing the effect he had on you, brought Wonwoo to his end almost immediately after, claiming his orgasm on your stomach as he pulled out with a high whine of your name.

A few minutes of cleaning you up later and Wonwoo found the both of you under his covers, you laying your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around one another, softly running his hands up and down your arm. No words exchanged between the two of you.

As per usual, you broke the silence, turning yourself to face his side while still in his hold. He mirrored your actions, holding you even closer as you stared into each other's eyes, shy smiles on your faces.

"I love you too. It's not too soon. I love you, Wonwoo."

Your words took his breath away once more. What he had confessed in the throes of passion was being reciprocated. He hadn't shared the three words with anyone ever since his break up. His breakup, which had been the furthest thing from his mind ever since he had realized his feelings for you.

You fell asleep like that; holding each other tightly and muttering words of affection at each other every so often until sleep won you over. Wonwoo had never had such peaceful sleep, having never had the pleasure of holding someone he cared so much about in his sleep.

The news broke out quickly. Not to the public, of course, but to Mingyu, who had found you in bed the next morning when he'd noticed your absences last night, rushing home worried that maybe his plan to get you two to talk had backfired. Safe to say that Mingyu smugly took credit over your reconciliation (he might've deserved maybe a 15% of the credit). Then the news broke out to the 97 liners, who happily welcomed Wonwoo back into the group under the name of honorary 97-liner. Then his group mates found out, along with yours. They were all very accepting, having noticed your feelings for one another before you even did. Finally, the news broke out to your shared company. This was the trickiest one, but your insistence in the validity of your love for one another was able to triumph over any obstacles.

It had now been a few months since that fateful night, the words I love you being uttered between the two of you daily. Even as you worked your busy idol schedules and had distance put between you every once in a while, your relationship prospered, giving Wonwoo a new sense of what being loved truly was. He no longer felt like his ex had been right about him being unlovable. You had taught him to know better, while he showed you the same care in return.

Wonwoo no longer winced at the mentions of his 'pre-debut girlfriend', but even laughed along at the memes his fans made about their favorite idol being taken. Now knowing that, yes, he was taken, but had something even better now; you.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut

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gimmeurtmi · 1 year

Text

no nut november — han (loser #1)

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, ot8 inclusive, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, open conversations about sex as an impulse/need, insecure reader for a bit, fingering, oral ( f + m receiving), slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, needy!jisung,

inspo: kaili’s brain <33

notes: @sluttywonwoo and i are finally collabing after like five years :’). i’m so so hyped for this one!!! make sure to tell us what you think and place your bets on the winner🥰 😉

banner by @sluttywonwoo

{ wc: 5246 }

jisung and his friends were close. very close. they saw each other practically every day and would share everything with each other. it was something he cherished deeply, and he loved just how jisung he could be around them.

they never made him feel like he was too much—unlike most of the people he grew up with, and they even indulged him when he’d start talking about his niche interests or when he shared a new song he wrote. they were always supportive.

maybe to a fault.

“so, even though we can’t grow facial hair,” chan concluded, “i think it would be nice if we could at least make a donation to the charity.”

“what charity?” seungmin asked.

“weren’t you listening?” changbin yelled.

“no,” the younger said easily.

“hyung was explaining to us about movember,” felix recaps. seungmin just shrugs.

“i could grow facial hair if i tried,” he challenges.

“that’s not the point!” chan shakes his head. “will you guys make a donation with me or not?”

they all mumbled their affirmations.

“why is it in november?” jeongin quips.

chan just shrugs. “every months has things attached to it, i suppose.”

“november has another thing,” minho says, plainly.

“there’s national cappuccino day,” seungmin agrees with a nod.

“and fried chicken day!” changbin adds.

“yeah, and there’s a challenge to write a whole novel in the month of november,” hyunjin says softly.

“yeah,” jisung says, tone serious as he leans forward, “you’re forgetting the most important one. no nut november.”

minho smirks at him as the pair of friends exchange a look that says ‘you read my mind’.

“yeah, right,” chan chuckles, “the other ones sound like real things though.”

“it’s a real thing!” jisung defends.

“no, it’s not,” chan just shakes his head.

“it is!”

“do you know anyone who actually does it rather than posting stupid memes about it?”

“me,” jisung shrugs confidently.

the room fills with a chorus of laughter so loud, jisung sits there with a shocked face at the reaction he just got.

well, fine, he doesn’t do it. he’s never done it. he’s never even thought about it. but chan doesn’t need to know that, does he?

“why?” jisung said once the laughter calmed down, a few minutes after he last spoke.

“you’re trying to say you’re not going to have sex or do anything for a whole month?” seungmin tried to clarify.

“yeah, why?”

“it’s just…” he holds back his laughter, “…i don’t think you’re capable of that.”

“hey!” jisung exclaims. ��i’m not an animal, i can go a month without sex.”

“oh, we all know that,” hyunjin laughs, “we’ve seen you go through a year long dry spell before you found y/n. but you got off every fucking day.”

“uh—i don’t—why do you know that?” jisung could feel himself blushing.

“we share a wall.”

the boys laugh harder. jisung can’t stop himself from cringing.

“hyunjin, please never say that again,” he tries to brush off.

“maybe you can not have sex for a whole month,” minho chuckles, “but you can’t go that long with nothing.”

“it’s not that hard!” jisung insists, unable to accept the fact his friends think so little of him and his self control.

“it is!” chan adds, “we’re used to doing stuff like that all the time, we can’t just stop.”

“yeah,” changbin agrees, leaning forward to give jisung the kind of look he gives him when he’s trying to encourage him. “none of us could do that.”

“hey!” felix quips up, just as seungmin puts his hand up.

“speak for yourself!” the younger adds.

“yeah!” jeongin nods firmly.

“you guys think you could go a whole month?” chan raises an eyebrow at his friends.

“i could, too,” hyunjin shrugs plainly.

“first of all, this isn’t fair,” minho leans closer, as if evaluating the situation. “innie is single. he’s used to not getting any,”

“—hey!—“

“—and most of you have girlfriends so you can’t just decide to do this without telling them.”

“most of us?” changbin quotes back at minho, “like you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“she’s just as competitive as i am, so she’ll do it just to show you guys we’re the best.”

“the best at not getting any?” jisung quips with a raise of his brow. the boys snicker.

“yah!” minho exclaims. “don’t start with me!”

“maybe minho is so confident because she never lets him get it anyway,” seungmin laughs.

“you think i can’t get some?” minho squares up, acting as if he’s about to take out his phone and prove his friends wrong.

“uh,” chan tries, hands up, “i think we’re getting off track here?”

“let’s put money on it,” jisung offers. he’s joking, well, kinda.

now that the boys have all doubted him, while simultaneously agreeing they’d be better than him at something, he has to prove them wrong. even if it is only trivial and honestly pretty stupid. jisung is never not the best.

“how much?” felix rubs his hands together.

“enough for the winner to get a nice weekend away with his partner,” hyunjin suggests, “minho’s got a point. they’ll have to go through it too so might as well treat them.”

“and what does innie get?” seungmin can’t help but ask.

“i’m single, too,” changbin croaks.

“you’re not,” chan rolls his eyes. “being too scared to establish the relationship doesn’t make you single.”

changbin smiles sheepishly at the raised brows around him, trying to ignore the pointed looks his friends are giving him.

“yeah, when are you going to just ask her to be your girlfriend? we’ve all met her already and we love her,” felix encourages with a soft smile.

“why is this about me?” he yells back. “tell jeongin to get his shit together and ask his crush out!”

“that can be his prize. a getaway that’s the perfect excuse to ask her out,” chan offers with a smile.

“so, agreed? no sex for a month and winner gets a weekend away with their lover, undefined partner, or unrequited crush, as a prize,” minho concludes.

“it’s not just sex,” felix points out, “no, uh, fireworks at all.”

“it’s called orgasms, yongbok,” seungmin says bluntly.

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, his cheeks dusted pink, “no orgasms.”

“we should exclude jisung from this,” hyunjin smirks, “since he was gonna do it anyway.”

“poor y/n,” seungmin tsks, “at least our girlfriends will get something nice for this torture.”

“hey hey hey!” jisung lets out quickly, barely breathing as he goes on, “if anything as your inspiration and true role model i should be part of this bet, too. and i’ll have you know i take amazing care of my girlfriend whether i sleep with her or not and no, sleeping with me is not it’s own kind of torture,” he says quickly, before seungmin and minho can say what’s so clearly on their minds.

they both let out a disappointed grunt at his words—confirming jisung knows them far too well.

“but we have to tell them we’re doing this,” chan confirms, “i don’t keep stuff from her and like minho said, it’s just cruel not to tell them.”

they all agree.

jeongin curls in on himself ever so slightly, before he says, “maybe just hyungs should do this, then. i don’t have a girlfriend so it’s an unfair advantage.”

“as the youngest your hormones are most active, so if anything it’ll be harder for you,” hyunjin says, comforting his friend.

what a weird way to comfort someone, jisung thinks. and then he says it out loud.

“it was actually very comforting, thank you,” jeongin glared at jisung, “but it’s fine. i don’t have to be part of the bet. i’d have no one to take to the getaway either.”

“don’t worry,” minho says quickly, “you’re playing. we’re not letting you sit this out just because you haven’t had the chance to make a move on that girl.”

“but—“

“—the more of us play, the harder it is. more people you need to outlive.”

“outlive?” jisung repeats with a gulp. minho simply nods at him, his face expressionless.

“right, shake on it!” chan announces, and all eight of the boys put their hands in the middle of the circle, each grabbing at one or two people’s fingers.

november 2nd

why did jisung ever agree to this? why did he even bring it up?

this was stupid. this was so so stupid. you haven’t had the chance to come over since the month started, and well, jisung got too distracted and engulfed by your presence that he didn’t have a chance to bring the bet up just yet. he didn’t know how to say it, either.

“i bet a romantic getaway with my friends on us not having sex for a month,” felt like a stupid thing to say. well, it was stupid. stupid!

it felt borderline ridiculous when you snuggled up closer to him on the couch, back flush to his chest as you played the next movie on your scary marathon list. halloween was over, but both you and jisung agreed there were far too many good ones to just stop once the holiday was over, so jisung was happy to let you keep working through the list the pair of you curated on your letterbox account.

“you’re so warm,” you said happily, moving in closer to his embrace. jisung planted a small kiss on the back of your neck, squeezing you tighter as you sighed.

“i love being like this with you,” you mumbled, moving your head to the side enough to plant a soft kiss on his equally soft cheeks.

“squeezed to your death?” jisung teased, squeezing at your stomach and your hips, where his hands were casually wrapped around you.

you let out a dramatic huff before you giggled at him, curling a hand underneath his bicep to push his arms away from you. he only let his grip loosen, but didn’t dare move away too much. you kept your fingers around his bicep, slowly pressing into the muscle.

“ji, all the time you spend away from me at the gym really paid off,” you mumbled, leaning down to kiss at his bicep softly.

jisung smiled timidly.

“uh, thanks,” he cleared his throat.

“i feel so safe in your strong arms,” you added.

“why do scary movies always make you horny?” jisung asked.

“what?” you chuckled, “i’m not horny?”

“you are feeling me up,” he pointed out, his chin gesturing at your fingers and the way they wrapped around his muscles.

“i can’t admire the artwork?” you huffed.

“there’s admiring, and there’s drooling,” he said, eyebrows raised.

“since when are you so cocky,” you sighed.

“does that turn you on, too?” jisung smirked. he was moving into dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it when it was you. there was something so enticing about flirting with you, especially when you were sat so snuggly in between his legs.

“for the record, everything you do is a turn on.”

jisung swallowed. it didn’t go unnoticed to him that your thighs spread ever so slightly since this exchange started, or that you were much closer to his chest than you were a few moments ago. he had to keep it clean. “focus on your film, honey.”

you two still exchanged kisses, you still fed jisung snacks in between jump scares, you still laughed at all the kills together. so, it was just like any other movie night.

except it wasn’t—for the very reason you were pointing out now.

“jisung,” you began, tilting your head to the side slightly as he sat back down on the bed. he cleaned his room from the snacks and came back quickly, but it was enough time to for you to realise what happened.

“jisung? who the fuck is jisung?” he knitted his eyebrows together. “what’s wrong?”

“are you upset with me?”

his face reminded you of a surprised cartoon character, his mouth a perfect circle as his eyebrows met his hair.

“what? no, no. why? why?”

“it’s just,” you blushed, causing jisung to grab both your hands and trail his thumbs against your wrist soothingly. “we’ve never ever had a movie night without your hands down my pants.”

jisung laughed.

“stop,” you groaned. “i’m being serious.”

“my baby! my sweet sweet baby,” he teased, getting closer and closer to your face with his signature shit eating grin.

“it’s like an instinct you have, jisung. we watch a movie and you touch me. it was really weird that you didn’t.”

“stop calling me jisung,” he scoffed, “i’m not your friend.”

“you are now, since friends usually have normal, non-pussy-touching movie nights together all the time!”

“so you didn’t get touched for one movie and i’ve been bumped back down to friend status?” jisung gasped.

“i don’t know, have i?” you counter.

jisung notices the way you don’t quite let him hold your hands, the way that gorgeous glint in your eyes isn’t there. he isn’t too sure you’re just joking about this.

“hey,” he says softly, “are you being serious?”

you nod softly. “did i do something wrong?”

“why would you think that?” jisung exclaimed, pulling you closer to him. “where is this coming from?”

“is it because i didn’t put perfume on today? i know i’ve been getting more comfortable around you, i’m sorry i haven’t put a lot of effort in today i just thought we were gonna have a chill night so i didn’t wear my best clothes and—“

“—hey! hey! stop that now,” jisung shakes his head quickly. “i love that you’re comfortable around me.”

“it’s just, i don’t know, jisung. you’re always—“

“—can you not call me that—“

“—you’re always touching me in some sort of way and then i don’t see you for a week and you’re just not anymore?”

“why are you insecure? you know i love you,” jisung emphasised with all his might, his figure slumping until he met your gaze. you wouldn’t look in his eyes.

“it’s okay if you just weren’t in the mood,” you say quickly, realising your insecurities were indeed leading your train of thought. you owed it to jisung to be understanding—even if his behaviour was painfully uncharacteristic. “i just never see you not in the mood.”

“you’re making me out to be some sort of pervert,” jisung jokes, trying to get you to laugh. or at least let him hold your hand.

“but you’re my pervert,” you pout at him, causing his insides to crunch at the sight.

you always made him weak—and he was holding everything inside him not to tease you during the movie like he always did. but it was only his first try, he couldn’t lose already. and if he touched you, jisung knew he wouldn’t wanna stop until you were both spent and satisfied. he thought so hard about that, he didn’t stop to consider how you might see it. or the fact he never fucking told you.

“i made a bet with the boys,” jisung said quickly.

“huh?”

“we’re doing no nut november so i tried not to touch you because i don’t wanna lose on the second day,” he said in one big breath.

“that was too fast, rapper boy,” you pointed out, unable to catch half the words he said.

jisung repeated himself, slowly, feeling the blush creep up his neck as he spoke clearly and carefully.

“what did you bet on?”

he felt his eyes gap again. that was your first question?

“a romantic getaway for the couple that wins.”

“and where will changbin go for his getaway, do you think?”

“what?” he gasped. “i’m taking you on a romantic getaway.”

“no, you’re not,” you laughed, amused at his incredulous face.

“what does that mean?”

“ji,” you giggled, lacing your fingers together, “i have never met anyone as insatiable as you. even if you can somehow hold off sex for a month, you really think your impatient dick will be able to stay calm for that long?”

jisung felt heat rushing all over his body, coursing through him then all the way down to his crotch.

“i’m sorry i made you feel insecure,” he tries to change the subject, ignoring just how dry his mouth felt all of a sudden, “please never doubt how much i’m obsessed with you.”

you smiled at his words, nodding in acceptance.

you lean forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

jisung wanted to make it up to you, he wanted to make sure you had no doubt at all about how crazy he was about you—he wanted you to know this was just about the bet.

so he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled your body closer to him, deepening the kiss as you sighed contently.

he ran a hand down your back, slowly, cupping your ass softly as he felt you smiling against his lips.

“so obsessed with you,” he mumbles into the kiss, “so obsessed.”

“i’m obsessed with you too,” you sigh, unable to quite finish your sentence before jisung slips his tongue past your lips.

the kiss is still soft, jisung’s tongue moving slowly against yours, but his movements are more urgent as he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

“my perfect, perfect girlfriend,” he sighs, kissing down your jaw.

jisung wants you. he wants you really bad. and he can have you. why not? the rule is, as felix put it, no fireworks. jisung is not the kind of man that can only have sex if he cums. he can just focus on you. he’ll just take care of you. that’s allowed.

“can i make it up to you?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he moves your hair away from your face.

“how?” you cock your head to the side.

“i’ll touch you now, give you what you so clearly missed out on,” he chuckled.

you nodded instantly, biting your lip.

“you sure you can?” you ask, no hint of teasing in your words. you know how competitive jisung is, and you also know he really doesn’t have much self control. you wouldn’t want him to lose just because you were feeling a little insecure lately.

“yeah,” he nods. confidently.

you lean down to kiss him again.

jisung doesn’t waste any time pulling your sweats down your legs and helping you shimmy out of them. he slowly presses you down onto your back, pushing at each knee to keep your legs open for him.

he trailed his finger up your thighs, slowly, smirking at the way your eyes fluttered at his action. he’s still jisung, so he’s still a fucking tease, and he circled your lips once and twice, bringing his finger in between your folds casually.

before you think to protest, he dips the tip of his finger inside you, his eyes gleaming at the squelching noise. it’s only the tip of his index finger, but it’s enough to make you want more—so you buck your hips up in a silent request.

jisung leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hipbone.

“don’t get needy,” he warned, “you know we shouldn’t be going crazy.”

you nod, taking in a deep breath as you focus on the feeling your boyfriend is giving you right now. you know you shouldn’t be greedy.

jisung is spread out in front of you, his whole body on the bed—face in front of your exposed pussy.

he leans his head against your thigh, kissing at the soft skin as his eyes fixate on his fingers—slowly, shallowly, going in and out.

“faster,” you dare.

jisung obeyed instantly, the tip of his finger tapping in and out of your entrance in quick shallow motions.

“ji, fuck baby,” you start chanting, breathing fast as the pleasure starts to consume you.

“more?” jisung raises his eyebrows at you, his smile big and cheeky as a sense of pride follows his movements.

“please, please more,” you pleaded.

jisung climbed up your body as he kissed around your collarbone, planting kiss after kiss after kiss before he pulled your shirt down enough to expose your bare chest.

“no bra?” he gasps.

“i said i was more comfortable around you,” you shrugged.

“fuck, baby,” he chuckled, “be as comfortable as you want.”

he grabbed your tit, kneading the skin before he rolled your nipple in between his fingers—a loud moan escaping you. jisung leaned down, sucking the sensitive bud as you grabbed onto his soft hair.

“ji,” you moaned, “fuck, please. please.”

“what?” he asked, almost genuinely. he knew you quite well at this point and he was doing everything you taught him you liked. what was he missing?

“want you,” you sighed.

“i’m here,” he smirked up at you, kissing your lips softly before turning his attention back to your nipples—tongue moving fast against it.

“can you, uh, would it be okay if you—“ you stuttered, unsure exactly how to ask for what you wanted. usually you just told jisung to fuck you, but you didn’t want to ask that now. still, you weren’t quite sure how to word your next request.

“what is it, baby?”

“can you use your mouth?” you blushed. but jisung didn’t even stop to tease you about it—and instead buried his face in between your thighs without a second to spare.

you squealed at the coolness of his tongue, taken aback by just how fast he was going from the start.

jisung was good at a lot of things—but you didn’t think anyone could possibly be so good at giving head. he proved just how good he was at it every chance he got, and now, he was determined to prove that point one more time.

your fingers carded in his hair, pulling at the strands as he placed his tongue flat against your clit—moving it in a pulsing pattern against the sensitive bud.

you’ve never been with anyone who ate pussy like him.

you weren’t even sure what you were saying, too lost in the feeling to realise you were chanting your boyfriend’s name like a prayer, mixed in with a few swear words and some questionable noises.

but it was driving jisung insane.

he loved knowing he was making you feel good, he loved the compliments that tumbled out of your mouth without you even realising it, he loved how you always said how good he was when he made you cum.

he couldn’t remember the last time you were this loud for him.

as you tugged on his hair again, pulling him even closer to your cunt, jisung grunted. he was rolling his hips into the mattress.

“fuck baby,” he pulled away slightly, catching his breath for a moment, “i’m gonna lose my fucking mind soon.”

he kept rutting into the mattress as he sucked on your clit, moaning against your body and causing another set of swear words to leave your lips.

“such a filthy fucking mouth,” he let out, his eyes hooded slightly as he looked up at you, his hips still rolling against the mattress. “how does someone so pretty sound so dirty?”

“ji,” you whimpered, “ji, your mouth is so good.”

“yeah,” he sighed before getting back to his task.

after a few moments, both of you rolling your hips in search of more friction, you started to whine.

“i’m close, i’m so close,” you said softly.

jisung knew you needed more to be able to cum, and although he could’ve just used his fingers—he was desperate for more, too.

so he climbed up your body and rolled his sweats down his thighs.

“what are you doing?” you asked quickly.

“just let me feel how warm you are,” he all but sobbed, “just for a little bit.”

“are you sure?” you checked, glancing down at his dick. he was swollen, hard, and the tip glistened with precum. you weren’t sure he would stop after a little bit, especially considering he was practically humping the bed until now.

“wanna feel how warm you are baby,” he repeated, kissing your neck, “please. i’ll stop if i get too close.”

you nodded at him. it was all you wanted too, to feel the stretch of his cock inside you, but you could tell jisung wasn’t thinking clearly as soon as you noticed just how blown his pupils were.

either way—how could you care about the stupid bet he made with his friends when the prettiest boy in the world was begging to put his cock inside you?

jisung lined himself up easily, his strong hands on either side of your shoulders before he pushed himself all the way inside you.

the pair of you groaned in unison.

“so fucking tight,” he sighed, “so wet.”

“it’s from how good you are at eating me out,” you moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

“can i move?” he asked, his nose bumping against your chin before he kissed you sloppily.

“it’s up to you, baby,” you nodded.

jisung thrust up into you. hard.

you yelped.

“more,” you couldn’t help but ask.

jisung repeated his actions, once and then twice, and then he was rubbing your clit fast.

“oh my god,” you moaned, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

jisung wouldn’t dream of stopping, not when you looked so good underneath him, moaning and grunting and biting your lip in pleasure.

he was focusing as best he could on thinking about literally anything else to push his own high as far away as he could.

he could do it. he could make you cum on his cock without losing. he knew he could do it.

and soon, your moans were getting high pitched and longer and then—

“i’m cumming!” you announced breathily, and jisung shut his eyes. it was one thing feeling you clench and pulse around him while keeping his focus, but he couldn’t possibly look at your blissed out face right now. he needed to focus.

once he felt you calm down, heard that little sigh you let out as soon as you relax, he knew it was safe to open his eyes.

“ji,” you chuckled, “that was fucking amazing.”

you kiss him, hand cradling his cheeks as you pepper more kisses around his face.

“happy to be of service,” he smirked at you. pride coated his shoulders as he kissed your cheek.

he actually fucking did it.

he took a moment to appreciate your expression, the sweat on your forehead, the way you were still taking in big breaths, your messy hair.

“fuck, i’m so lucky,” he let out. you chuckled in response.

“can i—would you be okay if i did the thing?” you asked, shyly.

only recently did the pair of you discover you both loved tasting your own release on each other. jisung would eat you out almost every time he came inside you, and you loved sucking him off after he fucked you. it wasn’t like you had to do it—but since this discovery, your aftercare reached a new level of hot.

“sure,” jisung nodded, laying down on the bed beside you after he slowly pulled out.

“tell me if i need to stop,” you said before kissing his lips.

“don’t worry, honey,” he smiled, “i got this.”

you nodded before sliding down his body.

you licked his tip softly, testing the waters, and hummed at the taste. the saltiness and your own taste combined together as you took more and more of his dick into your mouth.

you licked the shiny part of his thighs where a bit got away, sucking a small bruise into the skin. and then you licked his balls, and then you took all of him inside you.

jisung was quiet the whole time, his face scrunched in concentration. he wouldn’t even look at you.

“baby, you’re okay?” you asked, rubbing his thigh soothingly as you licked his tip slowly—still tasting yourself on his warm dick.

“yeah, baby, all good,” he grunted as he shut his eyes.

you took that as a sign you could keep going, and tried your hardest not to tease him too much. you just wanted to clean him off.

“there we go, my love,” you hummed, “all done.”

jisung opened his eyes with a smile, bringing a hand into your hair.

“thanks, baby,” he smiled, visibly relaxing in front of you.

“you did so well, ji,” you smiled, “so patient and calm for me. you’re gonna win this for us.”

you gleamed up at him, a big smile on your lips, and instinctively you found yourself bringing your hand around him as you stroked him twice.

“wait, wait, wait,” he said frantically—waving his hands at you.

but before you could question that kind of reaction, or even respond, his thighs had contracted in front of you as cum shot onto his stomach.

it was too late now, so you made sure he at least enjoyed it, stroking him in a pace you knew he liked as you watched the pleasure sink into his body.

“fuck!” he let out as he came down his high. “two fucking days?”

“i don’t understand what just happened,” you chuckled, sitting up. “was it something i said?”

“i shouldn’t have looked at you,” jisung groaned, bringing his hands up to rub his face. “your stupid cute smile.”

“really?” you giggled, “you could fuck me through an orgasm but me smiling at you was the last straw?”

“you know what,” jisung chuckled, grabbing the pillow next to him and launching it at you, “i wish you would bump me down to friend status.”

“you don’t mean that, jisung,” you smirked, reaching over to his bedside table for some tissues. you helped him clean up his now ruined shirt as the pair of you laughed.

jisung leaned up to kiss you, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

“don’t call me that,” he whined as you pulled away.

“so like, i’m not allowed to call you by your legal name, i can’t smile at you, anything else?”

jisung rolled his eyes at you with a grin, leaning up to kiss you—tasting everything you cleaned up on your lips.

“two fucking days,” he mumbled again as he pulled away.

“get over it, ji,” you chuckled.

jisung huffed at himself, running a hand through his hair before he pulled his shirt off, letting you cuddle into him as the pair of you sighed into each other’s embrace.

his phone buzzed at that—pulling you away from your momentary post sex bliss as jisung read over the text.

minho: so how is movie night going? 😌

jisung: fuck you

“don’t worry, baby,” you said as you giggled at the texts on his screen, “the boys will never find out it was only two days.”

jisung grumbled at that.

“minho is a dick. and we all know he’s gonna win it, too.”

“sure, sure,” you patted his chest, thinking did it really matter that much? “i’m sure whoever wins will use their gift wisely.”

“oh wait, shit,” he exclaimed. you looked up at him curiously. “we were all busy the week of his birthday so chan said i need to plan a party for next week. will you help me?”

“of course, jisung,” you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“stop calling me that!” he chuckled, eyes wide as he shook you around by your shoulders.

you decided kissing him would calm him down, and it did—the pair of you kissing until you were both too tired to go on.

#skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #han jisung smut #han x yn #han jisung x reader #han x reader #jisung #jisung x yn #jisung smut #han smut #skz smut #nnn #nnn skz #no nut november #all.works

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hellenhighwater · 2 months

Note

You mentioned emotional stability, which I get, but it made me think of the meme about ‘how do you not cry when people yell at you’ and I’m wondering both: whether there’s as much yelling in law as in tv, and whether you’ve ever cried while doing law

Nowhere near as much yelling as TV!

The only people I've ever had yell at me are non-attorneys who are representing themselves and who do not understand how this whole system works, and generally speaking...they're not in a position where their yelling is hurtful? Every time it's happened it's been more like a person throwing a tantrum, and I just...can't take that seriously. No one I actually work with (or opposing counsel) has ever managed to yell at me. I have cut off a couple people who were working themselves in that direction and redirected things back to being civil.

Frankly: I will not put up with that shit.

The list of people who are allowed to yell at you in a professional setting is very, very short, and the circumstances where that is appropriate are few and far between. It does happen in some workplaces but that's a question of office culture and individual shitty temper. My boss would never yell at me--it's unprofessional--and if he did he'd have my resignation on his desk by the end of the day. Opposing counsel is not entitled to yell at me; I am their professional peer and I don't have to put up with it outside the courtroom, and if it's inside a courtroom, the judge is likely to shut that down.

We're lawyers. In this profession, it's widely seen that losing your temper is a sign that you have lost your professional regulation and it discredits your argument. That's true in and out of the courtroom.

I have come near tears in court, but mostly because if I hit a certain point of rage I will tear up. Twice, I've had a judge hand down a ruling so wildly unjust and unexpected that it threw me off balance and into immediate fury, but I've always been able to keep it together and carry on without actually crying.

Mostly the practice of law is just not that personal. Even if someone is yelling, it's not at me as an individual. I don't make the laws, I don't decide the facts, I just take these things and lay them out. If someone's mad, it's not usually a personal attack. And you learn to deal with and understand that kind of anger--often frustration--as you go.

#my lawyer parents are both of the mindset that when you lose your temper you lose the argument #which resulted in a childhood where we didn't get yelled at we got lectured #i can recall very very few occasions where either of them raised their voice at us #and like yes anger does not negate a valid argument #it is appropriate in some circumstances #but most of the time it does not make a person more credible.

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calisources · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #usft tw #usft meme #smut meme #suggestive tw

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 18 days

Note

Am I the asshole for not letting my husband have a say for the guest list of our baby shower?

I (21 f) and my husband (25 m) moved very quickly in our relationship, much to the judgement of my sister. We moved in with each other after a month of dating and she basically told me it was a stupid idea. We also got eloped with no family or friends there four months after that. When I texted my sister we got married (yes, I texted everyone instead of called) she asked if it was a joke and when I said yes then sent a picture of marriage license as proof, she didn’t respond for days. She called me later which I sent to voicemail, which was basically her crying saying she always imagined she’d be at my wedding and was hurt. I was upset because no one was invited or even told about the engagement; that was the point of eloping. The rest of my family was pretty happy for us though and I focused on that.

We didn’t talk for months because I wanted an apology, or at least a congratulations on getting married. She texted me a few times about nothing important (she sent a few memes). An apology never happened, but I started to text her again because I found out I was pregnant and wanted her to know about it. I called her about it eventually and she was supportive.

Before the Not Talking stage happened, her and my husband didn’t get along. She has made multiple passive aggressive comments about our relationship in the past. There was one time she visited us that made my husband upset because she showed up with little notice and also insisted on visiting again when our cat gave birth to her litter of kittens. She talked about helping and I didn’t really think anything of it. My husband later said he was upset she acted like she knew our cat better than us based off a couple of other comments she made and didn’t like how she invited herself over. I don’t think she meant anything negative about it, but it was annoying she insisted on one specific cat thing we told her we had under control and didn’t stop pestering until my mom called the vet to ask for advise and the vet agreed with my husband and I about how we handled the cat situation. I’m not sure if I explained that well but I honestly don’t know how to describe it without going into too much detail. This is just background info.

My husband and I wanted to do a gender reveal for the baby. We agreed on the theme and had a general date in mind. I invited my immediate family, best friend, and his immediate family that he talked to (which only consisted of three people). He said he didn’t want my sister at the gender reveal and this caused a huge fight. He said if she was there then he wouldn’t show up and I could tell him the babies gender on the phone. I cancelled the gender reveal because I didn’t want to uninvite my sister when she hasn’t made any bad comments in months and also wasn’t about to have my husband not be there. In my mind, there’s zero point in having one if both parents aren’t there. We found out gender by having our doctor write it down on a paper and we opened it later by ourselves. We told everyone over the phone what we are having.

Now, I am pretty far along in my pregnancy and my family wanted to set up a baby shower for me. I let them and we set up a date for it. My husband and I talked about the baby shower multiple times and looked forward to it. I Facebook invited the same people I invited to the gender reveal to the baby shower and he wasn’t happy when he saw my sister was again on that list. Him and my sister has only seen each other one time during these months, which was at a funeral. My sister initiated a handshake which he accepted and asked how he was. He answered fine and that was the end of it.

The baby shower argument was the same for gender reveal. He didn’t want her there and he didn’t want to come if she was there. He said I shouldn’t want someone who has done nothing but disrespect both of us in the past year to be at this event and should get a say in who comes and who doesn’t. There’s no excuse for the things my sister has done and said but it felt wrong to exclude her. If she wasn’t going to be invited to the baby shower, then what was his opinion on our son’s birthdays and other events? We couldn’t do this forever. She hasn’t been rude in months but we never got an apology. I’m also a little bitter about it but I’m trying to not be harsh. At this point, I didn’t say much when my husband said she couldn’t be there. This is because we just got done with a different argument about something completely different and he said he was done about certain things. I said ‘like what?’ and he told me he didn’t want my sister at the baby shower.

He said he wouldn’t have invited anyone that has disrespected me and I shouldn’t either. It sounds fair but it also sounds very black and white. I get along with the family he talks to outside of family events. I don’t get along with a couple of extended family members but he doesn’t get a say in who was invited to those events and never talks to them outside of those family events even before we were together. I didn’t really say anything for my argument because I knew he wouldn’t agree with it anyway. This sounds calm but he was very angry and I was crying pretty hard. He asked over and over again if she was coming to the baby shower and I refused to respond. If I say she’s not coming then I’ll have to follow my word and uninvite her, probably causing arguments within my family. If I say she is then he won’t come. (I’m not sure if this is relevant but my husband and I are both autistic and have been known to shut down and stim when we’re upset). He said he’s tired of being disrespected when I refused to answer for 30+ minutes and wanted a divorce. He crumbled up our marriage license and took my wedding ring off my finger.

He didn’t say anything about the baby shower and started asking questions about the divorce. ‘How much do you want in child support? When do you want to do visitation? Etc.’ I refused to answer for a while but he kept asking and I mostly gave vague answers like ‘whatever you want’ all while still crying. I didn’t say much except to say he was staying and we weren’t getting a divorce.

I don’t remember what happened next and what I said, but he eventually said that I had one more chance to choose him because he’s always chosen me. This is true because he has put me first. He works a lot while I’m not working this pregnancy and always makes sure I eat and everything. I’m not sure what’s going on with baby shower. I think he said that she can come if I put up boundaries about being nice otherwise she can’t come. I think this will start an unnecessary fight because she hasn’t done anything in many months so it seems insulting. I didn’t say anything though. We fell asleep and cuddled and he apologized the next morning before he left for work. He said he was more mad that I refused to talk. I, personally, was more upset about the marriage license he crumpled up. I still didn’t say anything but ok. He still hates my sister and expects me to tell her to be respectful.

I don’t know what to think really. I sound like a jerk for not letting him have a say for baby shower. It is his kid too. I also don’t want to divide my family by not inviting my sister, but he’s also my family. I know he acted like a jerk for the argument but that doesn’t necessarily means he’s wrong about the guest list and having a say. So would I be TA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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spookydrreid · 4 months

Text

Let’s Start the New Year Right

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

18+ minors DNI

desc: Spencer and reader get invited to a chill, casual NYE party. But things heat up right at the stroke of midnight.

cw: food mention, Spencer is a little awkward in the beginning, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in a bathroom)... Let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1667

...

“I can’t go dressed like this? People will laugh at me.”

Spencer looks himself over in the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand down his sweatshirt. It was New Years Eve and you two weren’t doing anything too crazy, just spending time at your friend Andies house with a few others. She’d just bought said house and was desperate for you and the rest of your friends to see it. And what better time than New Year's Eve?

“They will not laugh at you. Andie said she wanted everyone to be casual and casual means jeans and sweatshirts,” you called from inside your closet. “And we’ll be out by the fire. You’ll be more comfortable like this. Trust me.”

You peak around the corner to his portion of the closet, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looks cute, more dressed down than you usually see him. In fact, this is the most you’ve seen him in the past three weeks. Serial killers don’t take breaks, even during the holidays. So off he and the team went to bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama and missed Christmas.

It was disappointing to say the least.

But it was his job, something he warned you of previously. However, it didn’t mean him missing important days didn’t hurt. But you sucked it up and smiled through it. Plus, it didn’t matter. He was home and he was safe.

“I do trust you. But I don’t want to be underdressed.” He sighs moving to grab his tennis shoes, sitting on the little poof seat you insisted on buying. (And that he secretly loved. Not that he’d admit it.)

You pull your hair out of the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing it down and grabbing a warm hat. “You won’t be. This isn’t like Rossi’s where we dress to the nines and get drunk on champagne.”

You see him grin as he ties his shoes, a small blush rising on his ears.

“Yeah he was sad we were coming this year. I, however, am excited we aren’t going. I have spent more than enough time with all of them. They’ll survive without me for a night.”

You giggle, walking towards him and hugging him from behind. “Yes, baby, your friends will survive without you. You’re all mine tonight.” You kiss his cheek before straightening and checking your phone, “we should head out, sweetheart. Andie will be pissed if we’re late.”

The drive to Andies was short, filled with Spencer's long winded explanation about why you and he bought your house at the ‘most perfect time’. You loved listening to him ramble, even if half the time he spoke gibberish. You were thankful you could google some of the super big words he used.

The second you’re parked outside the house, big, beautiful and full of holiday cheer, you see Spencer tense. You’d think after six years together, he’d be more calm around your friends. They helped him with the proposal after all and he still has the group chat. The group chat where they send him memes he doesn’t understand. However, no matter the time, he isn’t the most comfortable with anyone but you. And more so in your bedroom.

You find it… endearing to say the least.

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it three times i am here. “Ready?”

He squeezes back and nods, “I am… I think.”

It’s all you need before getting out and never once letting go of Spencer’s hand.

Andie stands at the door, smile on her face, two glasses of punch in her hands. “There is my best friend and her hot as fuck fiance!”

Spencer practically cringes at her words, never being one who could handle a compliment. Even if he was the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen.

“Hi! Sorry we’re late. We had a late night. You know how it is, serial killers killing during the holidays. Dr. Reid forever having to save the day.” You pat his chest, looking up at him fondly.

He loves when you look at him like that, eyes so wide, filled to the brim with love. He kisses your head and

Andie fake gags, handing you the drinks in her hand. “Yes, yes. Get inside before we let the kitten out and before the cold air comes in.”

You sip it, the vodka making your chest feel warm. Spencer looks down at the cup before looking back at you, “I can’t drink. Want this?” You nod, taking it and pouring it into your cup. “A-andie do you have water? Bottled? I don’t like sink water and fridge water tastes funny so bottled is better. Even though it’s not good for the environment.

“But it’s not really us that needs to worry. It’s the famous people who really pollute the envi-”

Andie cuts him off, “Spencie baby, you don’t have to explain this to me. I have plenty of bottled water. Want a cold one or a room temp one?”

Spencer curls his lips over his teeth, a small blush creeping up his neck, “cold is fine. Thank you, Andie.”

“You’re welcome sweet thing.” She digs in her fridge and finds the bottle, handing it to him. “Now, time for a tour.”

…

It takes a good few minutes for her to show you both around the house, making sure she explains every single detail even down to the persian rug her current boyfriend bought her when he went to visit his mother.

Spencer, of course, went on and on about this, that and the third. It was cute.

But soon you were in Spencer's lap, staying warm by a fire and roasting a marshmallow while Spencer got the chocolate and graham crackers ready. You were two drinks and three shots in, happily buzzed but not even close to drunk.

“You are so hot when you open chocolate. S’anyone ever told you that?” You say it quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of anyone.

He smirks, using the top graham cracker to slide the toasted marshmallow off of the stick and smoosh it between the other cracker and chocolate. “No one has ever told me that. But there is a first for everything.”

He takes the first bite before handing you the rest. You pout a little and he laughs. “You ate my smore! Not fair.”

He kisses you, lips brushing over yours gently, “I will make you another when you finish that one.” “What happened to my shy boy? Getting bossy out here.” You smirk, knowing you’re pushing his buttons.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I fucked you into the mattress.” He says right in your ear, nipping at it slightly.

You shiver, squirming in his lap. “You-you can’t do this to me. We can’t fuck here.”

He kisses your temple, “there are four bathrooms here. We totally could. They all lock, I made sure.”

Andie claps her hands, “ten minutes till midnight!”

Spencer grips your thigh, “what a way to ring in the new year? Me buried inside you.”

You cross your legs, trying anything to get some friction.

“They’ll notice, Spence.” You look around, no one is paying attention to you, most of them sucking face with their dates.

“Oh baby, they won’t notice.”

Before you know it, your pants and underwear are on the bathroom floor, and Spencer's face buried in your cunt. You bite your fist to quiet the moan. For some reason, it was extremely hot getting eaten out with the possibility of someone hearing you. But that didn’t mean you wanted to get caught.

“So pretty bunny.” He purrs from below you. He pushes two fingers inside you, easily opening you up. He knows your body better than you do, making mental notes of every little moan, gasp, and sigh that leaves your lips. Because of this it isn’t long before he has you falling over the edge, somehow keeping your moans quiet.

“Time,” He asks as he stands, towering over you.

You check your phone with shaky fingers, “11… 11:50”

Spencer pulls at his belt with fervor, pushing his pants down till they pool at his ankles. “Gotta keep you quiet for another ten minutes.”

His lips are on yours, swallowing your moans as he pushes all the way inside you. He doesn’t waste time, his hips snapping against yours. His lips travel from your lips and down your neck, moving your sweatshirt to the side to suck hickies where no one can see them.

‘Just for me,’ he’d always say. ‘Only for me.’

“Spencer, please.” How you manage to whisper it is beyond you. But it doesn’t matter with the way he’s moving.

“Shh… I’ve got you, bunny.” He snaps his hips faster.

Your second orgasm comes right at 11:58. And it isn’t long before you can hear your friends counting down.

Ten.

“Fuck bunny. Feel so good.”

Nine

“S-spencer…”

Eight

His hand covers your mouth, muffling your growing moans.

Seven

“I know you don’t want to get caught.”

Six

“‘Specially not so close to midnight. Right?”

Five

You shake your head no. Eyes staying locked with his.

Four

A wicked smirk crosses his lips, his confidence growing.

Three

“S’what I thought.”

Two

His thrust grow more and more sloppy and before long his head falls into your shoulder and his orgasm rips through him, spilling inside you.

One

His kiss is hard, hands on the sides of your face while he makes out with you, riding out the rest of his orgasm. He’s panting as he pulls back, Spencer's forehead resting on yours.

“Happy New Years, sweet angel.”

...

I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fic in almost a year. Im nervous to say the least lmao. I love you all ❤️

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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