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lilasamaaa · 2 days

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Ignorance is bliss | Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3K.

Warnings | Brief mentions of sexual activities, panic attack, Max and reader get in a fight.

Summary | Max and you have been dating for several months, and everything is going well. Except when paparazzi start chasing you for no reason. Is your boyfriend hiding something from you?

Author's note | This was requested by @butterflyexe ! Thank you lovely for the great idea! I tweaked it a bit though, so I hope you like it! I loved writing this piece but again, sorry for the crippling angst lmao 🥲 Not proofread as usual, oopsie

The doorbell of your apartment rings, and you leap off your couch, opening the door and throwing yourself into your boyfriend's arms.

"Oh, wow," Max says, pressing a kiss to your head. "Did you know it was me or do you throw yourself into the arms of everyone who rings your doorbell?" he adds, laughing.

"Of course I knew it was you," you reply, laughing too. "I've been waiting for you all week. And I noted that your flight was landing an hour ago, so it lined up," you explain, taking his hand and leading him to the couch, where you both sit down.

Max looks tired, the bags under his eyes casting blue and gray shades on his pale skin. He moves to lie down on the couch, resting his head on your thighs, closing his eyes.

"How was the work trip?" you ask, playing with his hair.

"It was great," he finally replies, opening his eyes and meeting yours. "Quite tiring, but interesting. It was nice to, erm. See my colleagues again," he says.

"I still can't believe your company paid for the trip all the way to Australia," you whisper as Max closes his eyes again under your caresses. "If I had known the automotive industry required you to travel that much, I would have applied for the job."

Max doesn't respond, simply taking one of your hand in his and gently stroking your knee with the other.

"You must feel so out of it with the jet lag..." you continue, concerned. "It's a good thing they gave you a few days to rest. When are you expected back at work?"

"Not until next week," Max says, playing with the rings on your fingers.

"And you said you're going to Japan after? That's such a weird ass schedule," you say, making him laugh. "I feel like you travel more than most influencers... Or even athletes," you state, making him open an eye.

"Perks of the job," Max says before planting a soft kiss on your lips, and standing up. "Can I borrow your shower?"

"Of course! You know the way," you wink at him, heading towards the kitchen. "I'll fix us something to eat in the meantime."

Sitting at the small table in your kitchen, illuminated by a few candles and the lights of the city outside, Max devours the plate you placed in front of him a few minutes ago. You silently observe him, both fascinated by the man before you and disturbed by a thought that has plagued you in his absence.

"I've been thinking," you start, making your boyfriend look up.

"Yeah? Tell me," he says, covering your hand with his.

"How come I've never been to your place?"

Max stops chewing, his light eyes fixated on yours.

"I didn't know you wanted to?" he replies, brows furrowed.

"Well I've never asked to, but isn't that how it usually works in a relationship? Once at mine, once at yours?"

"I'm sorry," Max replies. "I didn't realize it was important to you."

You suddenly feel guilty and squeeze your boyfriend's hand, giving him a warm smile.

"Forget it, sorry," you say, getting up to rinse your plate. "That was stupid. You're right, we're fine here."

After dinner, you and Max settle on the couch again, watching some show on Netflix. When you notice Max fighting against sleep, his eyelids heavy and his breath short, you grab the remote before turning off the TV. The sudden silence jolts him awake, and you laugh before pulling him by the arm and leading him down to your bedroom. You make a quick stop in the bathroom to remove your makeup and brush your teeth and, when you come back to the room, you find Max fast asleep under the covers. The sight is endearing. You press a kiss on his forehead before settling next to him, your cold body against his already warm one.

The next morning, you wake up alone in a cold bed. A familiar smell tickles your nostrils, and you make your way to the kitchen, your eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning!" Max says, already dressed up, and looking much fresher than yesterday. "I made us breakfast."

"Wow, that's so sweet of you," you say before sitting at the table, taking a hot pancake from the plate in front of you.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep so fast yesterday," your boyfriend starts again. "To make it up to you, I'd like to take you out to lunch."

The offer takes you by surprise, and you stare at your boyfriend, mouth agape. It's been five months since you started seeing each other. Five months since you bumped into him by chance at the Monte Carlo casino while you were out dining with friends. Five months of being inseparable, but also five months of very limited outings. Max travels a lot for work, and you don't necessarily have the means to go out regularly in Monaco. Most of the moments you share therefore take place within the four walls of your apartment, and you're thrilled to get some fresh air with him for once.

"You seem happy," he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"I am!" you say, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Where are we going?"

"What about Nobu?" Max says.

"What? Max, that's way too expensive," you reply, furrowing your brows.

"It doesn't really matter, given I'll be the one paying."

"No way," you say. "We're splitting the bill. And I'm not paying three grands for some sushis, as delicious as everyone claim they are."

"They really are. So please, let me do this for you. Just this once? I can afford it," your boyfriend says, making you frown.

His words remind you that you don't know what your boyfriend does for a living. He's talked to you about cars, mechanics, but you're having trouble understanding what kind of job in the automotive industry requires so much traveling around the world. A job that apparently pays very well, given the restaurants he frequents. Realizing there's no point in arguing and not wanting to pick a fight with Max, you simply nod, lips pressed together. However, you're counting on one last point to escape the pricey restaurant and hopefully eat elsewhere. Somewhere more affordable.

"Well, if you insist," you finally say, popping a strawberry in your mouth. "I doubt we'll get a table for noon, though," you add. "I heard you have to book months in advance."

"Don't worry about that," Max says, stroking your cheek. "I need to stop by my place real quick before, can we meet there?"

Two hours later, you're sitting at one of the finest tables at Nobu, facing the sea. The fuck just happened, you think, watching your boyfriend immersed in the menu with a raised eyebrow. How? Before you have time to question it further, a waiter brings two champagne flutes and a bottle in a Nobu-stamped ice bucket to your table before hurrying away, thanking you two profusely for coming.

"Did you order this?" you ask Max, making him look up.

"No, I didn't. That's so kind of them."

"What the actual fuck, Max?" you snap, eyes wide. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" your boyfriend asks.

"Did you somehow not notice how everyone's been bending over backward for us since we walked in? I think the waitress behind you hasn't taken her eyes off us for the past thirty minutes. And since when do they bring champagne to people who haven't ordered anything?" you say with a worried look. "Are they confusing us for someone?"

"Why are you so worried?" Max asks, giving you a look that's meant to be reassuring but just looks uncomfortable. "Just enjoy the moment. And the view."

You sit back in your chair, biting the inside of your cheek. Something isn't right. You can feel it. Max adjusts one of his hair strands, and the sleeve of his shirt slips down slightly, revealing a watch you've never seen before. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the model, and when you do, your heart skips a beat.

"Is this a new watch?" you ask, trying to act nonchalant.

"What? Oh, yeah. Bought it in Melbourne."

"You casually bought a Rolex Daytona?" you ask, tilting your head.

"I didn't know you knew about watches," Max says, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

"You don't need to know about watches to know that this model costs almost a hundred thousand euros," you say, eyes boring into his.

The tension at the table has risen a notch, none of you uttering a word. As an anxious waiter places several plates in front of you, you glance around, suddenly realizing something you hadn't noticed before, absorbed in your conversation with your boyfriend.

"There's no one here," you say, still looking around. "It's noon on a Saturday, and the restaurant is empty."

Max sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he finally says, carefully meeting your gaze. "I wanted us to have some peace."

"What? What did you do?"

"I've privatized the restaurant," he says.

"How did you do that?" you ask, unintentionally raising your voice.

"I paid," Max simply says, grabbing a sushi.

"How much?"

"Several thousands!" Max almost shouts, making you wince. "What's up with all your questions?"

You're completely lost. You don't recognize the man you've been seeing for the past five months. The man who comes to your place by foot, usually in sweatpants, who spends evenings watching Netflix with you. Taking baths with you. Passionately making love to you. You have no idea who this new man is, covered in expensive clothes and accessories, on whom all heads turn and who raises whispers as he passes by.

"Who the fuck are you?" you simply ask, feeling your eyes start to water.

"Baby," Max says, finally realizing how uncomfortable and lost you are. "Please, can we just enjoy the meal? I'll answer all your questions at your place. I'll explain everything, but please. Let's not make a scene," he implores.

You swallow hard, staring at the ceiling to dry the tears in the corners of your eyes. For the rest of the meal, Max talks, telling you about his trip, about his life. You politely answer the few questions your boyfriend asks you, remaining silent the rest of the time. You don't even have an appetite anymore, having swallowed three sushi pieces before your stomach threatened to turn.

At the end of the meal, Max slips a credit card into the folder that a waiter has placed on the table, then adds three hundred-dollar bills. Tip, you think. More than what I earn in a day of work. The price of discretion, probably. The waiter leaves with the folder before coming back, and just as he's about to ask for something, Max shots him a look that makes him close his mouth. Your boyfriend thanks the young man before walking around the table, extending a hand that you grasp to rise as well. You thank the still-empty restaurant staff, giving them a genuine smile despite the anxiety twisting your stomach. Max opens the door for you, and you walk out on the street, thanking him.

For a moment, you curse yourself for forgetting your sunglasses at home, as the Monaco sun blinds you instantly. You blink in surprise, but your blindness persists as Max grabs your wrist and pushes you behind him. You try to open your eyes, but flashes keep assaulting you, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that they're coming from huge cameras pointed just inches away from your face.

"Max?"' you ask with a high-pitched voice, starting to panic.

Max turns around, pressing you against him and covering your eyes as he guides you through the screaming crowd. People push you in all directions, pressing against you, touching your arms, your face, crumpling your clothes. Screaming. At first, you can't make sense of what the voices are shouting, with all your senses being overwhelmed. But suddenly, you hear it. Max. They're screaming his name. Max looks up, and a new series of flashes burn your retinas as your boyfriend holds you even tighter against him, one arm around your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," you hear him say among the voices.

"What's happening?" you ask, panting.

And, then, you feel it. The panic attack. Even though you've never experienced one before, you immediately understand what's happening to you. You recognize the signs. Your legs give way, and you have to cling to Max to keep from falling to your knees. Your heart rate and breath quicken until they're suffocating, while tears stream down your cheeks.

"I can't breathe," you croak, so weakly that you're not even sure if Max heard you.

"Hang on, baby," your boyfriend says, still walking. "We're almost at the car."

The flashes continue, and so do your tears. Max grips you as tightly as he can, shielding your face, lifting you halfway to help you walk. After a few seconds, the longest of your life, you hear a car door open, and Max gently pushes you into his car before closing the door and jumping in. He wastes no time in starting the engine, cutting through the crowd, disappearing into the alleys of Monaco.

You don't say a word. You're unable to speak. Unable to breathe. Still trembling. Crying. You don't realize it, but Max struggles to tear his eyes away from your body, which seems so small, so battered at this moment. He doesn't speak either, biting his lips until it draws blood. He hates himself. He knows he'll regret making you go through this for a long time. But now, all he can do is explain. Lay all the cards on the table. Something he should have done a long time ago.

The journey seems to last an eternity until you catch sight of a gigantic building, and Max drives into an underground parking. He parks the car and rushes out, opening your door, helping you out. You're still in shock, and Max supports you as he guides you to an elevator. A few seconds later, after twist of his keys, you find yourself in a vast penthouse overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. You don't even have the strength to ask questions anymore. To ask where you are. You sit down on the large couch, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Trying to calm your breathing.

Max watches you, standing at the foot of the couch. Bewildered. Not even daring to come close to you. The two of you stand in silence a few moments, until he finally speaks.

"I know it won't fix anything. But I'm truly, sincerely sorry."

You don't reply, head low. playing with the rings on your finger.

"I owe you some explanations."

No reply.

"I'm a Formula 1 driver."

You finally look up, and the mascara streaks on your cheeks squeeze his heart in the worst way.

"I should have told you earlier. I should have warned you, but I couldn't. With you, I discovered normalcy. Anonymity. I discovered what it was live to have an ordinary life, away from the hustle, the stress, the constant judgment."

"So you knew how precious it was," you say, squinting your eyes. "And yet, you chose to expose me to all of those things."

"I hadn't planned for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen. I tried."

"I can't do this," you reply, feeling fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

Seeing you cry again, Max sits on the couch, pulling you close to him as another sob shakes your body.

"Why?" you ask, crying. "Why did you let me fall in love with the person I thought you were?"

Each of your words, each of your sobs break his heart a little more, but he takes it. He knows your anger is justified. Deserved.

"Because I loved you too. And I didn't want this to stop."

"You lied to me," you say between two sobs. "I trusted you. I trusted you so much."

It's too much. Even for him. A tear runs down his cheek. Max wipes it away angrily.

"If you never want to see me again, I understand. I'll come get my things. I'll erase your number. I won't stand in the way of you living a normal life, of finding love with someone normal. You deserve the best, even if it's not with me."

You hate him.

You despise him for having been himself, his most vulnerable self, with you. For charming you with his awkwardness, his foreign accent, his somewhat strict manners. You hate him for being the perfect man for you. You hate him for making your heart beat so strongly. But above all, you hate him for building your love on a lie, on fragile foundations doomed to collapse and sweep you both away in the wreckage.

"I hate you," you sob, making his heart stop. "And I hate myself even more. For not being able to let you go."

"Baby", he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "If you give me this chance, a chance to rebuild everything with you again, I swear that nothing will ever happen to you again. I won't let anyone near you, anyone touch you. Not even a glance. I will rebuild everything around us. We'll be untouchable. Indestructible."

One month later.

"Are you ready, baby?" Max asks, meeting your gaze. "Once I post it, there's no going back."

"I think so," you say, biting on your fingernails. "Let's get this over with," you add, sitting on his knees while the driver presses a kiss to your neck, softly stroking your leg.

"Okay. Let's do this."

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x female reader #mv1 #mv1 x you #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x you #mv33 x reader #lilasamaaa #slowly working my way up all the requests lmao

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liyahin4k · 21 hours

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𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡 || pt 2 ||

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

“Girllll you are on fireee” angel your friend laughed shoving her phone in your face. You took it confuse when you did you saw there was a picture took of you and Paige having the conversation after the game and some were of the eye contact you too had that night.

“People get on my nerves sometimes,and you’re one of them” you mumbled walking past her “you know you love me” she giggled following after you “yeah,yeah” you rolled your eyes.

You walked to your room when you got a phone call from you agent “hey what’s up” you answered “you free tonight” she asked hope in her voice “yeah why”. “Great I was hoping you would do an appearance tonight at some club,it’s really cool you’ll be in and out promis” she plead “yeah and the last time you said that you got me drunk” you laughed.

“This time I promise there will be no alcohol” she chuckled You paused thinking about it it has been a while since you been out or made any appearances. “Sure”

(Ur outfit,you can imagine something else if you like)

Paige/3rd pov

“Come onnn it’s just one night please” kk cried. She had wanted to got out sense they had a free night and there was nothing else to do azzi,ice,and nika had already agreed to going but they were all waiting on Paige now.

“I said no” she told them not looking up from her phone and what she was looking at may you ask..edits..of you.

Some were from the your new movie and some were form interviews. All she could do was admire your beauty with a soft smile “whyyyy you’ve been locked up in here for days,live a little” kk cried plopping down next to Paige “it wouldn’t be a party without youuu” kk sang trying to convince her. Paige signed putting down her phone looking at her “if I say yes will you shut up”.

“Yes” kk rushed out with a smile “fine I’ll go,but you’re paying for my drinks”.

Pulling out the club they saw how crowded it was with a sigh Paige got out the car following after everyone “who knew it was gonna be the crowded” azzi wondered. “I think I know why” kk mumbled eyes wide staring ahead “what are you-“ Paige breathed hitched.

You were walking towards the club fans and paparazzi screaming your name as you smiled and waved trying to make your way through. Her breath almost stopped when your eyes met hers you smiled at before turning to your friend you came with telling her something before making your way toward her.

“B-be cool” she turned to everyone behind her panicking “more like you be coo” azzi laughed everyone else laughed with her. “Hi” you smiled stopping in front of her her mouth was opened but nothing came out.

Kk hit her back snapping her out of it “hi” she blushed “what are you doing here” you ask softly laughing at her face “uhh p-partying” she answered leaning her Hand on the wall beside her clearing her throat trying to keep her cool. “She losing it” kk mumbled to the others she all nodded agreeing watching their friend make a full of herself.

“In line” you asked confused “yeah-I m-mean no were waiting” she rushed out you plinked at her. “okayy” you answered confused,you paused for a moment looking at how long the line was you softly smiled looking back at her.

“How about you all come with me,I could even get you in VIP if you want” “WHAT” they all shouted surprise “w-what WE mean is you don’t have to do that right” Paige softly shouted looking back at them. They all looked away mumbling to each other.

Paige rolled her eyes looking back at you “it really no problem besides it just me and my friend” you pointed behind you were your friend was with the paparazzi snapping as many photos as they could get of you and Paige “you sure” she asked “ totally,it no problem” you smiled taking her hand in your walking towards the entrance, the rest following behind her with smiles on my faces.

(I know it’s a little short but the next will be a little longer andddd..Paige gonna get a little jealous 🤭)

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #kk arnold #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #viral #tumblr fyp #nika muhl #ice brady #black reader

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evanlybuck · 12 hours

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Tommy learns very quickly after their first time that Buck likes having sex. No. Normal people like having sex. Evan loves it and Tommy worries he might be an addict. He wants it all the time, multiple times in the day and in the night which was fine until it started affecting Tommy's ability to do his job. He's a pilot, he needs to be awake and alert to do his job and coffee can only do so much, after he's been up all night having sex.

Eventually Tommy decides, he has to relay his concerns to Buck. He can't go on like this.

"Evan, can we talk?"

He does it on a day where they're both off duty.

Of course this worries Buck. His boyfriend sounds serious and he used his name, not babe, love, sweetheart or any of their many nicknames for each other. Futhermore, any iteration of can we talk or we need to talk is never anything good.

But Buck puts on a brave face, "Yeah babe. What's up?" And listens intently to Tommy's next words.

Tommy takes both of Buck's hands in his and no doubt makes Buck think the worst. The small smile Tommy shoots his way does nothing to appease his fears.

"We've been having alot of sex and it's great - so great." Tommy starts.

Buck thinks about it for a second before agreeing, "Yeah we have."

"And I don't know how well I can keep up."

Buck chuckles. He's in disbelief but relieved that this is all Tommy wants to talk about. Buck then decides to humor his boyfriend.

"I think you've been keeping up pretty well, babe."

Tommy finally laughs. "I try but its starting to affect me at work."

"Oh? Oh!" Realization falls on Buck and he sees how serious Tommy is being. "I'm sorry babe." He gives Tommy' a peck on the lips. "Less sex. Got it."

"Well, at nights at least." Tommy stares at his lips and then places a hand on Buck's thigh, rubbing the area suggestively. "I don't mind making love to you as much as I can during the day and especially on our days off."

Buck similes. "Great. Take of your pants. I've been wanting to fuck you all morning." Ignoring the fact that they had sex less than 3hrs ago.

But it's their off day, so its fine.

#bucktommy #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #my contribution to fandoms has always been fanfics #i might just come out of retirement for buck & tommy

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frozenjokes · 1 day

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I’m Really Sorry About The Whole ‘Crush On My Alter Ego’ Thing, But We Could Still Totally Make This Work

Grian woke up early to a harsh alarm as he had every day since Scar’s.. confession..

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it probably would in an hour or two, so Grian wasted no time getting right on his morning routine. Which is to say. Doom scrolling for at least an hour before actually getting up. Though before choosing one of many social media platforms to waste his time with, he checked his texts, expecting to find a meme or work schedule change from Cub, and instead:

Good morning sunshine👊👊👊👊👊!!! ❤️ Time to get ready for another day of stopping crime and KICKING ASS👉👊👊‼️⚡️⚡️⭐️✨✨💥💥💥💥 I would say I hope you slept well.. but I KNOW you did and that your going to have a certifiably SLAY DAY⭐️💥⭐️💥⚡️⚡️⚡️ I just wanted YOU to know that your killing it (👊👊👊👊👊👊) and you’re awesome and very cute😳 like cUtEgUy you know and everyone loves you❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️Me included!! Can’t wait to see you today🫵🫵👊👊🫡💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 *dhoots arrow* HOTGUY

It went on for quite a bit longer, but Grian had seen enough actually, and consequently was no longer inclined to stay awake. This would be a problem for future Grian.

Future Grian was not very happy with past Grian when he woke up a few hours later, stumbling in his disoriented state to the kitchenette for coffee. Cub was at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone, and once Grian had the presence of mind to interrogate him, he pulled up the text, shoving his phone in Cub’s face.

“What is this. Did you have something to do with this? Did you write this for him? That’s probably something you’d do. What’s your prerogative here?”

Cub took a long moment to read, a small smile creeping across his face before outright laughing, “Oh, this is great.” Cub gently took Grian’s phone to keep reading, adjusting his glasses, “It just keeps going. How long do you think he spent typing this?”

“I don’t know! I don’t care! What the hell am I supposed to do? Why is he even texting me in the first place?”

“I’m failing to see how this is a big deal. He’s probably just sorry about the Micah thing and this is how he’s chosen to express that. Oh- here. ‘You don’t have to worry about seeing Micah again because I killed him. He’s gone.-‘ several explosions emojis ‘-I also tried to kill HotGuy but when I brought it up to one of my buddies who’s in with the higher ups he said No No Definitely Not Do Not Bring This Up To Anyone Else Ever For Your Own Safety so I’m feeling a little bit more insecure about my place in the world but that’s okay! I mean I know my life has always been in the hands of government doctors but I didn’t actually think through those implications until right now. You know me though, I’ll just keep doing my best! HaHa!’ Oh god. That’s a lot more text with very few emojis. Do these things not have character limits? I don’t think he’s okay actually. This just keeps going.”

“The- Okay, how am I supposed to be upset at him after you just read all that out to me? This is not fair. Can we just put that aside for later because how the fuck am I supposed to look at Scar in even remotely the same way after Micah- You can not possibly understand, Cub, I told Micah everything. We like- connected! And it was just fucking HotGuy the whole time! The guy I can’t fucking stand!”

“Out of costume I think he prefers you just call him Scar.”

“Okay. Sure. Fine. Scar fucked my brain! How can he even expect me to look at him the same way! He just let me think for all that time he was a different guy! Do you know how crazy that is? He talked shit ABOUT HIMSELF constantly! He tricked me!” Still, after a whole week to think about it, Grian couldn’t make sense of that. That he had met someone, made a real connection with a real person, but he hadn’t, not actually, because all of it was a facade. It was just Scar. But it didn’t feel like just Scar- it felt like Micah. Micah, who was just an act. Micah who he’d never see again. And maybe that hurt the most. That he’d lost someone like that. That he’d lost a friend. Someone who he thought might be able to be more than a friend.

“If it helps I think he has serious enough issues with his identity that he was not just ‘Scar but playing a character.’ Micah was a different person to him, I think.”

“Yeah.” Grian’s shoulders sagged, the idea not much of a comfort, “That. I got some idea of that. He was asking me a lot of questions about alter egos when-“ Grian cut himself off to groan loudly, “This is so stupid. This is so stupid. He needs to go directly to therapy for weeks at a time so I don’t have to see him for at least another month.”

Cub shrugged, “Maybe it would be good for you to see him. Maybe you should go in today.”

“How would this help me.” Grian glared, but Cub wasn’t looking up, still reading-

“I don’t know,” Cub said, setting Grian’s phone down on the table to return his focus to his own coffee, “I just kinda want you to.”

“Seriously.”

“I do. You’ve both been a bit of a wreck all week, maybe this’ll clear the air. And unless you plan on never speaking to Scar again, which is not practical for your work or your home life, you’re going to have to tear the bandaid off at some point. If he wants to apologize, you should let him say what he has to say at the very least. You don’t have to forgive him.”

“You- Are you in on this? I think you’re in on this.”

“I didn’t know about the text. Honestly, the majority of that message comes off as very.. in the moment. I don’t think that was planned. But he has a plan. No idea what. He wouldn’t tell me. It’ll probably be funny though.”

“So do you want this to fix me or do you want to laugh at me?”

Cub waved a hand dismissively, not looking up from his coffee. “I want to laugh at Scar.”

“Great.”

“You should go to work though.”

“I know your motives, Cub.”

Cub only shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also just curious. I want to know what he does. Don’t you? Wouldn’t it be sad if he planned some sort of big I’m Sorry event for you and you never showed?”

“This is extremely appealing to me.”

“But then you’ll never know what it was. Or if it even happened at all.”

“Scar will text you.”

“He might not.”

Grian scoffed. “If you want to see what Scar has done so badly then you can go and see it for yourself.”

“You think security would let me in?” Cub looked a bit too excited by that idea, the kind of expression that crossed his face holding Great Intention. Always a terrifying look on Cub, and definitely not something to be encouraged lest he get himself arrested.

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

Cub deflated (a great relief), but didn’t budge on his prior sentiment. “You should go.” Grian rolled his eyes.

“Well I am going, I want to go, but I'm not trying to see any of Scar. If he wants to talk to me he can chase me down. I’m not playing into anything he has planned.”

“Oh,” Cub blinked, then looked back at his phone, “Great. My job’s done then.”

“You are in on this!”

“I maintain my innocence. Hope it’s a good day though.”

“It won’t be.”

“If you say so.”

Grian rolled his eyes, taking his coffee off the maker and heading back to his room. He dressed in his underclothes, grabbed his bag, then headed out with a passing goodbye. Cub’s focus was elsewhere anyway, getting ready for his own work. One day Cub would be able to quit that damn job. Now that Grian had he means, he was going to make sure of it.

…

With the ample warning, Grian made sure to steer completely clear of his and Scar’s offices. He intended on lingering here as little as possible, only dropping in to change and collect a radio.

Apparently Scar had anticipated this.

“Well hello there!”

Grian didn’t catch more than a glance of him before slamming the public office door closed, but had to open it again seconds later because what the fuck was Scar wearing.

Scar had laid himself out over the center desk, dressed head to toe in the most garishly abhorrent green crop top, booty shorts, and sparkly jewelry Grian had ever seen all on top of his uniform. ‘IM SORRY’ was written across the chest in neon pink fabric marker chicken scratch, a miserable failure at matching CuteGuy’s colors. The entire outfit clashed so horribly that Grian couldn’t help but stare, for a moment too long apparently because Scar took this as an invitation to continue speaking.

“CuteGuy! I had a rose for you, but you took your sweet ass time getting here and I got bored, so I ate it instead. You know how there’s rose flavored candy and shit? Does not taste like the flower. Would not recommend. Actually!” Scar rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his legs, and Grian choked on a snort when he saw the text across Scar’s ass said ‘WHORE.’ “I was trying to spit it out, you know, and I’m pretty sure my saliva is purple now. It turned my water purple. I might have poisoned myself.”

Grian found himself stuck between bafflement and a laugh, but he refused to show Scar he was any amount amused by this display, his voice stilted in suppression when he finally spoke. “Give me. A radio.”

“Sure thing!” Scar plucked one off the dock, spinning it in his fingers before tossing it across the room. Grian caught it, turning on his heel to leave. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Grian didn’t feel the need to answer, shutting the door behind himself as he went, but it wasn’t long because he heard the tip-taps of Scar’s boots behind him, not running, but certainly trying his best to catch up.

“Did you see my message this morning?”

“I saw it.”

“Did you see the part where I asked to take you to lunch?”

“No.”

“Do you want to go to lunch then? Later, obviously. You don’t even have to go with me!”

Grian scoffed through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. Ridiculous. “No thanks.”

“I thought so. That’s okay! Maybe another time! I’m going to go now, but it was nice to see you, CuteGuy!”

Grian frowned, not responding or turning around. If Scar wanted to dress like an idiot, that was his prerogative. Grian wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He had actual work to be doing.

…

Grian liked how often he got to fly in this line of work. CuteGuy the villain didn’t fly anywhere; he laid low, he scouted the streets from roofs of buildings, he stuck to the shadows. ‘Grian’ didn’t fly much either, not without a reason. Sometimes he’d fly just like anyone would go for a walk, but he liked doing something, he liked having places to go. As much as he loathed superhero culture- and the whole damn city for that matter- he loved this.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather at the scene of a fight or crime, but maybe Grian should have known that a crowd this large, this dense, was a red flag. It had been a couple hours since he’d set off into the city, so his guard was down, he was in the zone. He had just assumed someone was hurt. That people were trying to help or panicking. Clearing the crowd revealed otherwise.

Scar was laying on the sidewalk, still wearing his clashing clothes, signing a book from a fan before shooing them away while looking distinctly like the two of them were in on some sort of inside joke. He.. didn’t have his legs.

“CuteGuy!” Scar swooned, drawing a gloved hand across his forehead, “I have fallen and I can not get up! I need a handsome and capable superhero to assist me!”

Grian cringed, but despite the majority of people having backed up, no one seemed to actually have left, encircling the both of them in a tight barrier. Scar knew plenty well how their fans felt about the two of them, (Grian had stumbled upon some.. choice pieces of fanart before) and he’d never miss an opportunity to tease under the scrutiny of eager eyes. Though, there was something beautifully normal about that; the teasing, the invitation of banter. The kind of normalcy you long for, even when things aren’t well. (Even when Micah was never real, even after you lost a friend.)

“You’re plenty capable. This is a severe waste of my time.” Grian flapped his wings, not intending on leaving, just needing more space from the onlookers.

Scar watched him carefully, delight dancing across his face when he realized that Grian was going to stay. “Well of course, of course, but going all that distance walking on my hands? No no, I don’t think so! I don’t even want to think about the kinds of calluses I’d get! And it would take hours.”

“Serves you right. Did you make sure that call only wired to me?” Grian huffed, making a grand show of his annoyance since Scar couldn’t see the roll of his eyes. And.. well.. he couldn’t quite help himself with the crowd. Everyone gets a kick out of dramatics sometimes. “Where’d your legs run off to anyway?”

“Oh! Funny story! The Goat took them.”

“You paid him to do that?”

“That would have been a really good idea! But no. He just happened to see me, and after laughing at me for like ten minutes he said ‘iF yOu aRen’t uSinG thEsE tHen I wiLL’ like he does, you know him. It was a little ominous actually. I’m a bit worried. My doctors are going to be pissed when they find out, so personally, I would rather be delivering this news with legs in hand.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. It’s not ideal. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m going to need help getting them back.”

“I hope you know how unbelievably a ‘you problem’ this is because I am not helping. Good luck hunting him down. First I’d recommend calling someone to bring you your chair.”

“No!” Scar jolted upright, proving just how capable he was of not laying pathetically on the concrete, “I want you! Look, look at me. Listen. Close your eyes.”

Grian made a face, scoffing to hide the hint of amusement that was threatening to show in his expression. “Do you want me to look at you or do you want me to close my eyes.”

“Listen. Imagine. HotGuy and CuteGuy: Dynamic Duo-!”

“This sounds awful.”

“-I’m up on your shoulders, we’re infiltrating The Goat’s home base together! You’re punching bad guys and I’m shooting my bow from above-“

“And how do you think you’re going to hang on, huh?” Grian interrupted, tapping his foot.

“Obviously I’d-“ Scar moved, seeming to realize too late he didn’t have the legs he was planning on using. This did not deter him, a sharp smirk splitting his smile, “Velcro!”

Grian snorted despite himself, “Yeah. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it. I foresee zero issues.” With a great irritation that gripped him out of nowhere, Grian was suddenly aware of other voices, the crowd, speaking loudly amongst themselves. Someone started to chant his name. Another chanted ‘Velcro!’ That caught on much faster. Grian flapped his wings far more aggressively when the crowd began to close in, hitting civilians out of his personal bubble, but this didn’t seem to be very effective, anxiety crawling under his skin as the attention started to be too much. Scar seemed to notice, but despite his efforts to control the onlookers, they were too rowdy, too caught up in their excitement to listen.

“Goodbye.” Grian hissed, straining to be heard, and Scar half-shrugged, a possible attempt at apology.

“So that’s a no, then? You’ll fetch my legs at least, will you?”

“No.” Grian beat his wings hard, forcing civilians out of his way and prepping to take off.

“Oh! Okay! Have a nice day then!”

Grian was gone before he could hear another word, before any other body could brush the backs of his wings. Anger painfully out of proportion boiled in his stomach, spilling out and staining the rest of his insides in its pulsing fire. He wasn’t angry at Scar. Well. He could certainly blame Scar, luring him around and speaking like that, stoking the fire of fans who adored the both of them, but Grian hadn’t minded the show, he hadn’t even cared all too much that he’d been tricked, not when the resulting interaction felt so.. normal. He liked an act. He liked being CuteGuy. So why was he so upset? And maybe that was it. He was just angry for no reason, and that made him angrier, because despite everything, despite trying so damn hard, he was still broken.

He could punch someone about it. He wanted to punch someone about it. Cub wouldn’t want him to.

So he flew instead. Flew like he liked, fast and far and high until the air was too thin, then let himself fall, playing games with his life as he hurtled through the sky before catching himself under spread wings and doing all of it over again. Eventually he got tired. Eventually he had to stop. But the aftermath of a senseless episode still buzzed under his skin, nearly as unpleasant as the burn that caused it. Grian could feel it. He could feel it under his skin. He wanted to tear it out. He wanted to fly, exhaust himself until he couldn’t feel anything at all, but he was too tired, so instead he found himself gliding to Cub’s workplace. He didn’t know where else to go.

“CuteGuy-“ Cub’s manager was frightened by his sudden entrance, stumbling through the front door aggressively enough to rattle the attached bell into senseless noise.

“Hello Diane.”

“How do-“ but Grian cut her off with a frustrated groan, not caring to listen as he dragged himself to the back. Cub looked even more startled to see him than his manager did, though surprise quickly melted into concern when Grian collapsed into a pile of cardboard boxes. He grunted. They were not as soft as they looked.

“Ah CuteGuy, friend of HotGuy who I am friends with and know for this reason- it’s fine Diane, it’s fine, let me just- I can handle it.” Grian heard the soft arguing from the doorway, but didn’t care to say anything. He didn’t care to think. He just wanted to be better.

Eventually the door closed.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cub’s hand flew to his shoulder and Grian viscerally cringed, lips parting in silent discomfort until the hand was swiftly drawn back, “I’m sorry. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you okay? You’re not okay.”

“I’m not hurt,” Grian mumbled, narrowing his eyes against Cub’s panicked expression in his peripherie. “Angry. Stupid.”

Cub jolted in his recognition, gears shifting immediately. “Scar, then. Was it Scar? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t been keeping tabs on the news- social media, the like. I’ve seen more than a few videos- people are going kinda nuts over nothing in my opinion but- It was too much. I’ll tell Scar to stop bugging you, he’ll stop.”

“It’s not Scar. I don’t care about Scar.”

Cub made a bit of a face, enough for Grian to tell he wasn’t so sure about that, but Cub didn’t voice the thought, instead asking, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Nothing.”

“Is- I’m struggling a little with the tone, man.”

“I don’t know! I was fine, I was kinda having fun and then I just wasn’t and out of nowhere everything just sucked and I was so mad and that’s not supposed to happen to me! Nothing happened and I wanted to rip out my hair and punch things and I didn’t, but now I just feel stupid! Why is my brain so fucking dumb.”

Grian let his head drop, face down in a pile of cardboard, but Cub didn’t move, intense in his silence. Eventually he sat down, right on the floor. “I need to break these down anyway,” he hummed, almost subconsciously as he leaned to grab something off his desk. The next couple minutes were filled with the sound of a boxcutter against tape and cardboard. It wasn’t awful.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Cub asked, not much more than a whisper. Not like he was sad or anything either, just focused on the task at hand.

“Okay,” Grian mumbled, the word coming out entirely indecipherable as anything but a noise of assent.

“I think you were nervous this morning. I think maybe you had an alright day, but got overwhelmed near the end. You can be having a good time and still get overwhelmed. There were a lot of people around you from what I could tell; it looked kinda claustrophobic.”

“But I didn’t- I didn’t care. It was like a switch in my brain just flipped! No build up!”

“Sometimes that’s how it happens. Sometimes there is build up and you just don’t notice until it’s too late. It’s not always so simply defined. There’s not always a reason. And there doesn’t have to be. You’re not regressing because you had a bad day, Grian. You’re not stupid.”

“I feel awful.”

Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he saw Cub nod. “Yeah. I get it.” Cub continued with the boxes and Grian didn’t speak, only shuffling a little to grant easier access to the few he was laying on. But Cub stopped almost abruptly after breaking down one box, the room blanketed in a meaningful silence. “Have I told you yet? How damn proud of you I am?”

The question jolted Grian out of his daze. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Of course you have. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand of cards, but you haven’t stopped working with them. You haven’t given up. And you have your moments, you have bad weeks, bad months, but you still pick yourself back up at the end of today. I think you’ve grown. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have walked away from the crowd and taken his anger somewhere better. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have come to me. I respect you, Grian. You’ve come so damn far. I’m proud of you.”

Grian shook his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s all you. I don’t pick myself up at all, you’re just pushing me back on my feet.”

“I haven’t known a single person that overcomes any of these kinds of challenges without support. That doesn’t make you any less capable, Grian. You’re still standing on your own two feet. I am proud of you.”

Discomfort burned in Grian’s chest. Cub didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. “It’s all for you. I’m only here because of you.”

“Having a strong motivator doesn’t discount all the hard work you’ve put in for yourself. You want to be better, Grian. You give your blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen. I’m not just dragging you along. You go to therapy and work your ass off. You keep track of your meds. You make the decision to walk away when all of you wants to haul off and kick someone’s shit in. You do it. You. And maybe most impressively, every time you fail, get arrested, relapse into old behavior, you peel yourself right off the concrete and try again. And there’s nothing harder than that. So that’s why I’m proud. That’s why I will always be proud. You’re a good man, Grian. You’re good.”

Grian didn’t know what to do with that. A soft chill rippled through his form, shaking him in his entirety despite its gentle nature. All of him felt so heavy. His lungs were full of lead.

“Can I have a hug?” A meek question, but he didn’t care.

“Of course.”

Cub’s touch sent another wave of coolness riding through his veins, contracting his muscles, making him sick and heavy and limp. And then, slowly, a steady march that began in his chest and spread outward; warmth. A soft, perfect warmth. The kind of love that could make anyone believe they were something to be proud of.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hotguy #grian #cuteguy #cubfan135 #scarian #desert duo #convex #convexian #hermitshipping #hermitfic

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raina-at · 1 day

Text

Laugh

Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I would recognise anywhere

The city lights reflect on the Danube river on this mild summer evening. The whole city is outside, at least it feels like it. Restaurants and bars and cafes have all put their chairs and tables outside. Schanigarten, the Viennese call it. A delightfully chaotic yet orderly habit of using public land for the enjoyment of everyone.

Sherlock should sleep. But the city is so lovely, and the night is so mild. For once, he’s not being chased, or shot at, or hunted. He’s waiting, for new papers, for a new identity, and Vienna in June is a good place to wait.

The wind smells like hope and a river in a city. It reminds Sherlock of London. The Danube is a different beast altogether, of course, the great stream meandering through most of middle and eastern Europe before making its way into the Black Sea. It’s been a recurring companion, in Romania, in Germany, in Hungary. Here, in Vienna, he feels like it’s greeting him like an old friend.

He’s walking through the inner city, just enjoying the anonymity of the masses, tourists, mainly, but many locals as well, having a beer or a glass of wine outside after a long work day. It smells vaguely of frying fat and horse manure. It reminds him of London again, of walking down Whitehall past the horse guards.

Soon. He can go home soon. One last job. Mycroft promised.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he feels like some invisible hand has reached into his chest and is piercing his heart.

That laugh…

It can’t be.

He steps into a doorway and looks around, tries to isolate the sound.

He’s not here. You’re kidding yourself. You were thinking of him. Of home.

There. In the Schanigarten across the street. A group of British tourists. A man laughs. He looks nothing like John. But his laugh…

For just a second, Sherlock thought…

Hoped…

What he wouldn’t give for once glance. Just a tiny glance. Just a second, to know John is all right.

He closes his eyes and imagines. What it would be like, if this man over there, who looks nothing like John but has his laugh, was actually John. And he knows, he knows, it’s actually better that it’s not John, because Sherlock wouldn’t be satisfied with one glance.

What if this was truly John? Would he wait in the shadows, watching? Would he follow John home through the dark alleys and cobbled streets of this lovely city? Would he finally step out of the shadows, just as John is ready to go into his hotel?

Would he grab John’s wrist, pull him into a shadowy courtyard? Would John try to yell, just to recognise Sherlock as Sherlock puts his hand over his mouth to stifle the scream? Would John look at him in shock, wide-eyed with wonder?

Would Sherlock then replace the hand with his mouth, press their lips together, taste John’s fiery anger, his sweet relief, his voice, whispering, “Sherlock…”?

Would John take Sherlock back to his room? Would they not talk all night, just for the dawn to come and for Sherlock to leave with one last, lingering kiss to remind them both that this wasn’t a fever dream, but real, and precious? Would he promise to come back, would John promise to wait?

Sherlock pounds his fist against the wall to remind himself where he is. Who he is. Why he can’t lose himself in a stupid, childish fantasy.

He has a job to do. A job he needs to finish before he can indulge in even thinking about what a possible after would look like. A job that needs to be done so John can be safe.

He doesn’t want you that way anyway…

But maybe… maybe when I come back…

Stop it. You have a job to do. You can’t afford the distraction.

Tomorrow, he will travel to Belgrade, where the Danube will greet him on the last leg of his journey. He’ll finish his job, and then, he can go home.

Then, maybe…

Tomorrow, he moves on.

Tonight, he listens to a stranger’s laugh that sounds so much like home, and he allows himself to dream.

-----

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @salmonsown @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #may prompts 2024

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writingpromptsworld · 8 hours

Text

Prompt #71

By @writingpromptsworld

When the hero finishes their training for the day, and comes home, they do not expect to see the villain sitting in the middle of their room, with a presumably champagne glass in their hand.

However, what was more strange was the fact that the villain had decorated the whole place for the hero’s happy birthday. But the decorations weren’t normal like balloons, banners, and

Other decorations. What they were knives, and other weapons hanging around the room vaguely, yet somehow fashionably. There was a cake in the middle with the hero’s name, painted red, their name in a black font. And the villain sat, grinning.

The hero stood still for a second, taking it all in slowly. If it was anyone in the hero’s space, they would have been shocked. Horrified, perhaps. But the hero, the hero barely blinked an eye at it. They sighed. “Is this the birthday party I get for working hard all day?” They asked, setting down their backpack.

The villain chuckled. “If that was your way of saying ‘thank you’, I regret to inform you it's not the best way.” The hero perked an eyebrow, before sitting down opposite the villain.

“And why would I be thanking you for this?” The hero asked, motioning around the room in a ‘what the heck is this?’ tone.

The villain pouted, their full lips crunching into a perfect circle. “Now that’s not very nice. I worked very hard to find all of your hidden guns, and even the knives! Gosh the knives! Why do you not have a knife holder?” They mused, their brows frowning in concentration as if this was a serious thing they took great interest in.

The hero pursued their lips. They hadn’t eaten much all day, and the cake(however bloody it was designed to look) appeared as delicious as water in a dessert. Their stomach growled, and they glanced at the villain. The villain smiled sweetly.

“Let’s cut the cake! Happy birthday, my hero.” The ‘my’ was really unnecessary, the hero thought but let it go anyway.

They leaned forward and blew off the candles. The candles were all black. “Thank you.” They mumbled, feeling uneasy yet a sick kind of affection towards the villain for remembering their birthday and even throwing a part. No one had done it, not even their closest so called colleagues.

They put on a smile. Not forced, but genuine. The villain smiled just as genuinely back. The hero devoured the cake, it was a chocolate cake, their favorite. And while eating, the villain spoke up. “Just because I did all this doesn’t mean I’m going soft on you during our fights, just so you know.” They licked their lips, a flirtatious grin spreading across their cream kissed lips.

The hero rolled their eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re a big baddie, who doesn’t have a heart and has a stone cold persona. Blah blah blah.”

The villain laughed, gazing at them with love filled eyes. The hero couldn’t ask for more for their birthday.

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littlxpxtal · 19 hours

Text

400 Lux

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 3.1k

You pick me up and take me home again

Head out the window again

We're hollow like the bottles that we drain

You drape your wrists over the steering wheel

Pulses can drive from here

We might be hollow, but we're brave

I love these roads where the houses don't change

Where we can talk like there's something to say

December Continued

Adding an extra dash of cinnamon into the bowl, mom turns to give me a stern look, holding up the whisk in a threatening manor.

“We never add enough.” I complain, pouting my bottom lip. She sticks her finger on a pile of flour and swipes it on my face. I gasp and she laughs out at me.

“We’re following a strict recipe. I refuse to change any measurements!” I huff out, turning my body to the stove, crouching down to check on the cookies we placed in about 8 minutes ago.

“Second batch of gingerbreads almost done.” I call out as she starts on the batter for our next group of cookies - Jam thumbprints my favorite.

“Start rolling out the dough for this last batch while I prep the Jam” she instructs. I walk to the sink, rinsing my hands off when the door bell rings.

“LUCY” I call out to my younger sister who is lounging on the couch, munching on the sugar cookies we made earlier this afternoon.

She takes her time pushing herself off the couch to geto to the front door. I hear faint voices exchange hellos, and Lucy finally says “She’s in the kitchen”

Rafe comes from around the corner and my eyes widen. His backpack is slung over his shoulder, the front button of his uniform unbuttoned.

“Hi Mrs. Y/L/N, Hi Y/N” He greets us with a devilish smile. I stare at him, my mouth agape at his audacity to be in my kitchen with my mom.

Mom dusts her hands on her apron and walks around the island counter to give him a hug. I internally cringe to see him wrap his arms around her and he sends me a wink.

“Rafe, it’s so nice to see you. You’re so grown!” she compliments, patting him on the shoulder.

“Smells good, what’re y’all making?” he asks, scanning the counters filled with various baking supplies and tools. The dining table stacked with various cookie types and sizes.

“We’re finishing the last of the gingerbread men right now and were starting our Jam thumbprints. They’ll be our last cookie of the day.” my mom informs in, getting back to making the dough.

He licks his lips, still scanning the cookies. “Those are my favorite” he says with a smile.

“Y/Ns too!” she says, playfully pushing into my side. I look down at the batter and begin to press the shape cutter into the rolled gingerbread dough.

“So what’re you doin here Rafe?” I ask. My mom tsks her tongue at me, giving me another stern look.

“Uh I tried callin ya but I see now that you’re busy. I just wanted to come and drop off your stuff.” He puts down his bookbag on one of the barstools, pulling out the study packet and calculator.

I had been so hyper focused on my exams all week that I honestly forgot I had even given those supplies to him last weekend.

“How’d the exam go?” I ask, continuing to cut out the shapes of the little men on the counter.

“Think I aced it. Your study book was very … thorough.” he says with a smirk, walking over to stand and inspect the cookies I was working on.

My mom pokes her head over “She’s always been a great test taker. She has an excellent ACT score.” my mom boasts.

“Mom” I hiss at her.

“Oh really, what do you have?” he asks. I purse my lips together, refusing to give him an answer. Mom chimes in for me “A 33. Isn’t that amazing!” she cries out.

“Kinsey got a perfect score.” I grumble under my breath

“A score like that and she wants to go to NC State.” she says, shaking her head at Rafe.

“NC State really” he says, raising an eyebrow. I finally turn to look at him after cutting the last cookie out.

“Duke would be a living hell and I would see too many Kooks at UNC.” I say, staring at him with an emotionless expression.

“She’s still waiting to hear back from UPenn though.” my mom chimes in again.

His eyebrows stay raised. “That’s pretty far.” he states.

“That’s my dads alma malter. I really don’t think I’m going to get in, I only have good grades, I didn’t do half the extra curriculars most of the applicants did. Plus I’ll be fine with NC State. Its the perfect distance that I wanna go.” I start placing each cookie on a baking sheet as Rafe watches me intently.

“Well I’ll get out of your hair,” he says, backing away. “But I also wanted to invite you to the Christmas get-together we’re having tonight at Toppers.” I snort at his choice of words, avoiding his usual vocab of “banger” and “kegger” for the sake of my mother.

“Oh honey that sounds nice.”

“Mom we still have to finish all these cookies.”

“Lucy is perfectly able to help me out with the last batch. When’s your hangout starting?” she asks Rafe, already starting to push me away from the kitchen.

“I can pick you up around 7:30” he says, walking towards the front door.

“I wasn’t planning on going out tonight.” I say crossing my arms.

“Honey, you should go. And you can take some cookies!” My mom says, giving Rafe a hug goodbye.

“See you at 7:30 then.” he says with a smirk before opening the front door. I turn on my heels and shoot daggers at my mom.

“Hes such a nice boy.” she says before walking into the kitchen. “Go get ready.” she says, more commanding than suggestive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mom kept popping her head in while I was getting ready, so I kept a robe on, and kept the makeup to a minimum. I pull out a large ugly Christmas sweater from my closet and slide it over my tiny red dress. I was trying my best to keep up the facade that this was a pure christmas hang out to celebrate the end of exams. I slide on a black pair of tights underneath for extra measure.

The doorbell rings at 7:30 sharp. I apply a few dot of lipgloss onto my lined lips and grab my bag, heading up the stairs.

“Rafe, how you doin?” I hear my dad greet Rafe at the front door. When I come into view of the front door I see that Rafe and I were on the same page. He was wearing a santa hat and an ugly sweater with a reindeer on the front. My mom rushes past me with a tin full of cookies shoving them into Rafe’s hands.

“You kids be good alright?” my dad says, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“What time do you want her home?”

“No specific time, just get home safe.” my dad instructs, giving him a firm handshake and walking back towards the living room.

“It’s okay if you need to stay at the Cameron estate, we trust you to stay safe and don’t want you drinking and driving.” my mom whispers into my ear.

“I’m sure I’ll get home fine.” I say before giving her a tight hug. We walk out the front door and he opens the car door for me. I hop into his truck and place my bag and the cookies in the back.

“What time does this actually start?” I ask as he turns his head around while backing out of my driveway.

“Not till 10. Figured that would be suspiciously late for your mom. Thought you could come with me on the alc run.”

“Where do you usually get your stuff?” I ask, slipping the sweater up and off my body, tossing it in the back.

“Mainland” he says, turning the volume up. I groan and pull my tights off, bringing my knees up to my chest.

“Cant use my fake round here, they know ‘M not 21.” I nod, understanding the risk and start to play with his apple car play.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, swatting my hand away.

“Putting songs on queue. If ‘m stuck in this car with you for the next two hours I’d like to listen to my favorite driving songs.”

“None of that Taylor Swift bullshit.” he says, his hand returning back to the steering wheel.

“You’re so reputation-coded.” I laugh at my own joke, putting some songs into the queue. Rafe liked a lot of rap, which I could get down to but I also needed to add my own pump-up songs on rotation.

“Don’t know what the fuck that even means.” he says.

“I’ll play the one that has Future on it.”

“She did a collab with Future?” he asks, turning to take a glance at me. His eyes scan my body up and down, finally taking a peek at the dress I had underneath the sweater.

“You’re gonna fuckin freeze” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel tightly, clnehcing his jaw. I watch as his hands flex and start chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“This is for you.” he says motioning down to the reusable tumbler in the cup holder. I pick it up and take a small sip.

“Damn this is good what is it?”

“Apple cider sangria. Rose’s special.” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Figured you would wanna pregame.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I say with a smile. He gives me another quick glance before turning the volume up even higher for the last chorus of a Playboy Carti song. I made sure to leave most of his songs at the front of the queue, trying to not annoy him so early into our drive. He’s surprised when I sign along to a few of them. By the time we reach the liquor store were both shouting at the top of our lungs the chorus to Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi.

“MR. RAGER, CAN WE TAG ALONG? CAN WE TAKE A JOURNEY?”

“You want anything?” he asks, turning off the truck and unbuckling his belt.

“Peppermint Schnapps?” I ask, battling my eyelashes at him. He smiles and nods his head, “I’ll be back. Don’t do nothin stupid.”

After about 5 minutes He walks out with the store clerk, loading up everything into the bed of his truck. The man daps Rafe up and he walks up to the front of the car.

“You hungry or anything?” he asks, putting Topper’s location into the GPS.

“I could go for Cook Out.” I say with a smirk.

“That place is foul.” he grunts, adding a stop to Cook Out on the GPS.

“I’ll take a small burger, a small fry and a Cheerwine pleaseee” I say as we pull throught he drive through. He repeats my order, getting himself a corndog and a banana milkshake.

He passes me the food and I shriek out in excitement.

“You’re cute” he says as I stick a straw into his milkshake for him. My songs start to play and I reach over to turn up the volume. I peak my eyes up at him and he glances down and nods in head, letting me touch the nob, twisting it up.

Lights Up by Harry Styles starts thumping throught he bass of his truck and I sing along with pride. As we pass through backroads I roll the window down, feeling the crisp winter air blow into the car.

“Take my picture” I say, passing my unlocked phone to him. I push myself up and out of the car, leaning my body out of the window, letting my hair flow

“Careful” he grumbles, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding my phone up, snapping pictures. I stick my hands out, imagining myself like Harry in the music video.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE?” I shout into the sky. Rafe pulls me by my arm back into the car and tosses my phone onto my lap.

“Can’t do dumb shit like that when I have alcohol in the back” he growls. I ignore him and go into my camera roll to inspect the picture she took.

“Might need you to be my photographer for the night” I say, flicking throught the images.

He rolls his eyes, slurping on his milkshake.

We finally roll up to the Thornton estate and Rafe instructs me to head inside and get Top and Kelce to help him bring everything. I follow his instructions and walk in, finding Top leaning over the bannister of the top floor, a santa hat lopsided on his had, a beer bottle swinging loosely in his hand. He catches sight of me and lets out a roar

“Y/N!” making his way down the stairs I greet him with a hug.

“Rafe’s outside with the alc.” I inform him. He pats my shoulder and heads out to help Rafe unload the truck. The living room is already filled, this time with more familiar faces.

I spot Sabrina across the room with our group of friends and I make my way over.

She lights up when she sees me, running towards me with open arms.

“Did you come with Rafe?” she immediately asks.

“What happened to hello, how are you?” I joke, hugging her back.

“Topper said you went with him to the mainland for Alc.” she says, guiding me to the couch.

“Yea I didn’t really have a choice. He told my mom he would pick me up and then sprung that on me as well pulled out of my driveway.”

Our conversation is interrupted by cheers as the boys pile into the living room, bottles of liquor and cases of beer in their hands.

“Lets get this party started” Topper hollers to the crowd. Everyone cheers back and swarm the guys, ripping open into the cases. I pull Sabrina up to the bar where the boys start unloading the bottles and mixers that we got.

“Lets do some shots.” Kelce suggests. “We do Holiday shots a little different round here, Y/N” he says turning towards the back counter, grabbing bottles of chocolate syrup out. My eyebrows lift and I watch Sabrina hop onto the barstool.

“Why dont you show her how its done Sab?” Topper suggests. She gleams back at him and turns around. Her back against the counter, leaning her head back and opening her mouth wide. Topper props himself up on the counter, a bottle of Peppermint Schnapps in one hand, chocolate syrup in the other.

“First you give the victim a shot,” he begins to slowly fill Sabrina’s mouth with the clear liquid. She stays still as he opens the lid of the chocolate syrup. “And then you top them off with a little bit of Syrup. He squirts a dollop into her mouth and she closes it, swallowing it all and raising her hands up.

“We do it this way, or sitting on someones lap.” she says with a smirk, hoping off the barstool.

“Lets see if we can get another volunteer.” Top scans the room and calls over Carissa. I roll my eyes, stepping back against the kitchen wall.

“Rafe, show her how it's done,” Topper says. Rafe, who had also ditched his ugly sweater, now wearing a dark red polo, waltzes over to the bar stool and pulls Carissa on top of him. Her back is against the bar like Sabrinas was and he holds back her neck, pouring the liquor into her mouth, and then squirting the chocolate syrup into her mouth. A little bit extra lands on her cheek and she squeals, pushing Rafe aggressively on his chest. She hops off of his lap and he and Topper exchange laughs.

“You ready to try?” Top asks, still propper up on the counter.

“I volunteer” A voice comes from around the corner. It’s Noah. Rafe reluctantly gets up from the chair and pushes past Noah, knocking his shoulder. He stands next to me and I hesitate, walking over. He grabs my hips and lifts me up onto his lap, swiviling in the bar chair to press me against the counter.

I lean my head back and he grabs the back of my neck, pouring the peppermint down my throat. My eyes lightly water and I feel my body tremble beneath him. His hand around my neck didnt feel as nice as Rafe’s and I feel myself clenching inside at the feeling of my legs on his lap. He places a dot of syrup in my mouth and I swallow, Sabrina cheering behind me with a beer bottle in her hand.

I lift my head back up to meet Noahs eyes and he smiles, leaning up close to my face.

“That was hot.” he whispers. I stifle a laugh and hop off of the chair. Adjusting my dress back down my legs. I look around to see that Rafe left the spot on the wall and was making his way into the crowd.

Sabrina and I make our way into the middle of the crowd dancing along to the songs booming through the speakers. After finishing a few beers I ask Sabrina if she wants another shot. She excitedly says yes and we find Topper and Kelce maning the station, chocolate Syrup all over the counter, and their faces.

“We wanna take a shot again.” Sabrina says, tapping Toppers shoulder. He turns and grins down at her.

“Y’all have to kiss after if you want more.” he says jokingly. We exchange a look between each other and I shrug.

“Okay”

I plop onto the stool and Sabrina hops on top of my lap. I go through the motions of the shot, Rafe appears back in the room for the first time since he had left before.

After Sabrina swallows the shot, I pull her neck down to meet my face and we exchange a quick peck, gaining a cheer from the guys behind the counter.

Making eye contact with Rafe, he has a smirk on his face, running his hand over his chin and chuckling under his breath. I can tell Sabrina is drunk by the way she slides off of my lap and wobbles over to Topper.

“My turn.” he says and she grabs his hand leading him from behind the counter. I get off the stool and go over to stand by Rafe, his Santa hat still placed neatly ontop of his head.

“Will you take some pictures of me now?” I ask innocently. He turns his head, bending his neck down to meet my face.

“Where were you thinking?”

“Upstairs bathroom?” I say, holding my breath for his reaction.

“Let's go.”

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

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mxliv-oftheendless · 1 day

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My thoughts jotted down as I read The Silmarillion for the first time:

The Silmarillion has been pretty good so far so I thought it’d be fun to record my personal thoughts as I read! I’ve been mainly reading this book in chunks, so the end of the bullet points is where I’ve stopped for the day. But enjoy my weird thoughts!

To my Taemin photocard that I used as a bookmark when I read the Lord of the Rings books: Alright, Taemin, we’re going in.

This reads very biblically, is it supposed to be??

Ah, so Melkor’s main problem is that he can’t create anything new himself, only corrupt and twist things that are already there.

(Finally understanding random bits of info I’ve learned online) Ohhhh, THAT’S what that is! Cool!

Ok Yavanna DEFINITELY loves hobbits.

Ohhh Nienna DEFINITELY likes Frodo.

So are the Eagles servants of Manwë???

Damn this worldbuilding is ELITE!

(“But Ulmo was alone, and he abode not in Valinor, nor ever came thither unless there were need for a great council…”) Sounds like my dream tbh

(Ilúvatar talking about his plans to create Elves and Men and how much he loves the Earth) Uhhh you may want to look into that a bit more, bud.

Huh. I’ve never thought about the human struggle to find the meaning of life and life’s purpose as being a gift, but it makes sense, since humanity as a whole constantly seeks to learn and grow and expand beyond what we already know.

Maybe that’s also why Melkor hates men, because they’ll always seek to learn more and expand to outside his influence and control, so by nature of their existence he can’t control them.

(Reading about Aulë being willing to smite the Dwarves for Ilúvatar before Ilúvatar stops him) So that’s a reference to the Bible story of Abraham and Isaac, right??

Ohhhh so that’s why the Elves and Dwarves hate each other… I don’t really care for that.

So who would be the one to create therapy??? Would that be Nienna??

“Next came the Noldor, a name of wisdom.” *laughs in very basic knowledge of what’s about to happen next*

Remarriage and your son hating his stepmom and half brothers; yeah I can definitely see this being a problem.

Oh yeah this is DEFINITELY going to be a problem.

I dunno why I always love the bad guys in stories, but I just think Ungoliant is kinda cool.

“But Liv she lives only for herself and her own consumption and she’s a SPIDER” YEAH AND IT’S FUNNY AND SEXY WHAT’S YOUR POINT

*Ungoliant eats the Trees two pages later*

Damn, the cruel irony of Fëanor and Fingolfin reaching a truce and everything looking like it’s going to be okay RIGHT as Melkor and Ungoliant destroy the Trees… I bet Tolkien was giggling evilly to himself while he wrote that chapter.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkien legendarium #jrr tolkien #books #bookblr #it’s a very good book so far!!#I’m really enjoying it!

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allthehumanflaws · 2 days

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Reunion of Albion

[This is just a short headcanon that I had about BBC Merlin. Hope it helps you somewhat forget the pain of the finale. :)]

Nearly 1500 years after the death of the Once and Future King of Camelot. There is a shift in the air. The birds of Camelot seem more cheerful than ever. Everything seems as if shifting. The sun is brighter than before and the Queen stands in her room looking out in wonder.

"Merlin! What is happening?" she called out. "I have no idea Gwen, but whatever it is I feel strangely happy." "You were looking for a counter spell, did you find it? It has been the same of years now." "No Gwen. Even the Great Dragon has no answers." said Merlin.

Neither of them had aged a day. For 1500 years they were the same as they had been on the day when.... Some strange curse had befallen Camelot. The Queen, Sire Leon, Sir Percival, Merlin and Gaius had not aged a day. Nor had a lot many people. The world around them had reached many heights but how much ever Merlin tried he could never bring that change to Camelot. How much ever he tried he couldn't reverse the curse. It was as if Camelot was stuck at one place in the loop of time. Each year Merlin would try to do something to reverse it but nothing has worked.

"Your Majesty! There is something happening at the Lake of Avalon." said Leon bursting inti the room. It wasn't far away so all of them set out immediately.

"Merlin, Gaius do you know something of this?" asked Percival. "No. This is not something I know of." replied Gaius. The Lake was shining with a bright light. The trees were swaying to an unheard tune. There was some sort of movement in the middle of the Lake.

Merlin stepped closer. In his heart, he knew what was happening. He had known a day would come when they would be reunited. A day when they all will return. All of them stared open mouthed. A bright light blinded them all. When they opened their eyes, it was a sight to behold.

Middle of the Lake their stood Arthur in all his might with the Excalibur glinting in his hand. Beside him stood Gwaine, strong and smiling his own sword in his hand. Elyan stood beside him, grinning from ear to ear and Lancelot, stood there smiling at his long lost friends.

The Once and Future King has returned and with him have returned the Knights of Camelot. They were welcomed with open arms and flowing tears. There was a banquet and a feast. There was laughter and love. Camelot had returned to its full glory. But Merlin had not shed a single tear all day. It didn't seem real to him. To him, it seemed another of his many dreams. To him, it would all end. He had seen this before it ended with Gaius waking him up but as he decided that his going to sleep would end this, Gwaine came up behind him and said, "Merlin! There you are at last! I have been looking all over the place for you. I am a bit rusty, point me to the Tavern?" "Sir Gwaine has forgotten where the tavern is !? I must be dreaming!" said Percival. Leon entered behind him laughing followed by Elyan and Lancelot. Then came Gwen and then Gaius. Last of all came Arthur. They all laughed, and Merlin stared at them, tears finally prickling his eyes.

"Merlin, you idiot! What are you staring at?!" said Arthur smiling.

He had them all back. He had them back and now he realized what had happened to Camelot. Albion was no other than Camelot. He was Albion and because he was awaiting the arrival of The Once and Future King with his Knights, Albion waited as well. And now the wait was over for Albion had finally been reunited.

[It's not enough to remove the pain, but I hope it's enough to give you hope that all was well after all. Hope you liked it!!]

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur #gwen #gwaine #lancelot #leon #percival #elyan #camelot #albion #magic #sorcery #merthur #gwenthur #gaius #headcannon #fanfiction #ao3

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luveline · 1 day

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—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k

You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.

You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.

It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.

I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.

Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.

You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.

You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—

“Hi.”

You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.

“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.

Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.

(He’s wearing glasses!)

You’d thought he was pretty before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”

You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.

He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”

“You think so?” you ask, surprised.

“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”

You send Hotch anything he wants to see.

“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”

You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”

He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”

“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”

You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”

Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”

You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.

“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.

“Come on, there has to be something.”

His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”

“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”

You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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train-inthedistance · 11 months

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why is everybody always so scared of love and sincere connections like ?????? is this not your sole reason for staying alive too

#like yes i am scared senseless too but think of the boundless joy should it work out ??#why isn’t that cancelling out anyone’s aversion to take an emotional risk im getting sick in this world #(dude i texted whos rly cool and who i vibe with heavily but who lives in a different city and somehow cannot get his act together enough #to make real plans (it is complicated. otherwise I’d be like goodbye u clown) cancelled on me bc he was busy tonight #flatmate+bestie left town for the weekend AND ive just accidentally seen the american’s new profile pic……had only a minor breakdown #day has been going great!!!!!!love love laugh)#me

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satoruwiki · 2 months

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AIR THAT COOCHIE OUT! — NANAMI KENTO

minors, ageless and blank blogs dni.

content: nfsw; smut; afab!f!reader; porn w no plot; cunnilingus; fingering; unprotected sex (oops); facial.

w.c: 1.3k

n/a: nanami reacting to you not wearing panties <3 reader is a freak for that ngl. this was supposed to be a multiheadcanon but i got a huge block and couldn't finish the last two, i might post them if i ever get back the inspo. not proof read! any interaction with this post is very much appreciated! :b

"No panties?" Nanami says after lifting your dress up. The sight of your bare pussy greeting him already was a surprise for him, a very pleasant one.

"You don't like it?" You stare at him with doe eyes and a subtle pout on your lips, wagging your ass to coax him into touching you. You've been craving your husband all day since he left for work -- time felt agonizingly slower than usual while waiting for him to come back; you even thought of going to his work at some point but finally decided against it. Wouldn't it be nicer to be welcomed by your wife, all hot and bothered for you?

"What do you mean? Of course, I do; it's just-" Nanami sighs, placing his firm hand on the soft skin of your ass, massaging it gently. He laughs softly, kneeling down to face your pussy, "I don't know what to do with you, you naughty little thing," he says, planting a kiss on your puffy lips, earning a soft mewl from you.

His mouth is gentle to you, always taking his sweet time to lavish in your juices, eating you out so sensually words falter to describe how sexy he looks pussy drunk.

You moan softly, murmuring how good his tongue lapping at your cunt feels and to not stop. Your husband brings your ass closer to his face, the warm and heavy breaths he exhales sending a shiver down your spine. This is just what you needed, you think, a good pussy sucking by your husband as his thumb circles your clit.

Drenched in your essence, Nanami pulls away for only an instant, parting your folds open with two of his thick fingers, your tight little hole clenching around nothing, enticing him to shove them inside. He glides his fingers inside your ringed muscles, drawing a cute moan from you and begins to pump them slowly, providing enough stimulation for you to feel good but not enough to cum.

Your husband always thought you looked lovely with your face scrunched up, his name delicately falling from your lips. He leans down to suck on your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking on the sensitive bud, "feels good?" he asks, the corners of his lips curving into a smug smirk, though he already knows the answer. He knows he's doing a great fucking job at pleasuring you - your walls clamping and ambitiously sucking his fingers gives it away.

"Mhm- yeah-" you hum, shutting your eyes as his fingers curl inside you, teasing your sweet spot. The arch of your back deepens as you search to feel his index and middle finger deeper within your pussy, soft sighs escaping your mouth as his thrusts increase in pace. Nanami flips you to lay on your back and latches his mouth back on you, making sweet love to your cunt.

You trap him between your thighs; your hand cups and fondles your breast while the other one reaches to run your fingers through his golden hair, tugging it as you feel that familiar heat spread over your body. Your husband's ministrations on you soon enough make you reach ecstasy - a thread of curses falls from your lips as you gush and your walls flutter around his appendages.

Nanami chuckles and presses soft kisses on the side of your thighs, nipping at the smooth skin as he patiently waits for you to come down from your high.

"Hngh- Kento..." you mumble, the post-ecstatic smile of someone who has just been fuck divinely plastered on your face. Despite just orgasming, you know this isn't over yet, at least not on your end. This was only the entree, now for the main course.

Nanami hovers over you and brings his soaked fingers over your mouth, prying you to open it. A sound of satisfaction escaped his throat, his pupils dilating at the obscene sight of your tongue swirling and lapping on his fingers, cleaning the remnants of your orgasm from them. One of your hands trails down to palm at the prominent bulge in his slacks, drawing a low hiss from him.

"You tease," Nanami breathes, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to replace them with his mouth instead, the taste of your sweet cunt still on his tongue. He kisses you just as lusciously as he previously ate you out, cocking his head to the side to deepen the kiss and sliding his hand to support the back of your head.

You decide to be more naughty, biting his lower lip and tracing it with your tongue as your hand continues to caress his member over his clothes. Nanami can feel your mischievous smile on his lips and curses between kisses. There is no way he can get enough of your antics. His lips descend from yours, slowly tracing a path from your mouth to your neck, depositing wet kisses on your skin that bristles at their contact. "I'm sorry, love. I know you like it from the back, but I want to look at your pretty face this time," he says, loosening his tie and tossing it somewhere in the room.

Your husband helps you to finally take your dress off, only to discover you didn't wear any bra either. 'Of course, she wouldn't,' Nanami thinks, though he can guess you already knew what he was thinking by the vamp look you give him while biting your bottom lip. He has to hold back a laugh at how impatient you're being, hastily unbuckling his belt and tugging down his slacks along with his underwear, his hard cock springing out of its confinements.

Before you can engulf his cock in your mouth, Nanami pushes you back on the mattress, bringing your legs to rest on their shoulders and lifting your hips to put a pillow under them. He aligns himself with your entrance, teasing you a bit by nudging your needy pussy with his tip and gliding it over your drenched fold to poke at your swollen clit.

You let out a soft cry, enough for him to finally sink into your heat. The burning feeling of his cock stretching your walls make your jaw slack, gasping for air. Your toes curl and draw a lengthy moan as he bottoms out, the pillow underneath your hips angling them for him to reach deeper.

Nanami babbles a bunch of curses as his hips begin to snap against yours, his hefty balls slapping on your ass at each thrust. Your muscles throb and squeeze around him, driving him into a hazy state of delirious lust. "Shit- You feel so fucking good," he huffs. He's fucking glad he got to claim your tight cunt before anyone else got to put their paws on her. "So fucking nice to me, so perfect."

His fat mushroom head gets to bully your sweet spot a couple times. Still sensitive from your previous orgasm, you cum earlier than expected, letting a loud cry of his name as your walls contract and spasm around his girth. Your back arches off the bed, the intense climax stealing your breath away.

Nanami lets a guttural groan and gives a mean squeeze to one of your tits, letting his head fall back and his eyes close as he chases his climax. "Fuck- I'm close. Where d'you want it, baby?"

As much as you wanted him to blow his load in your womb, you knew you couldn't risk getting pregnant now. "Face- In my face," you mewl out, your teeth latching at your bottom lip to stifle the loud moans that threatened to come out.

He pulls out of you and begins to stroke his dick, the veins adorning his cock throb on his fist as warm ropes of semen spurt out of his urethra, landing on your fucked out face. Nanami groans, his half-lidded eyes staring at your pretty face, wincing and glazed in his seed. He'd take a picture if he had his phone on him, "so fucking cute," he breathes, pulling back to kiss the corner of your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

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hazyhae · 3 months

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indica dreams | ldh

plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny

summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it.

wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni

cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames

you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.

when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.

this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.

you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.

“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.

“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”

“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.

a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.

6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx

“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.

“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”

you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.

you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.

“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.

“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”

you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.

lee donghyuck

the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.

you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.

it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.

“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.

the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.

“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.

“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.

“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.

your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”

he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.

you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.

“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.

“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”

the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.

“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.

“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.

“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”

you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.

“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.

“so just for sleep?” he asks.

“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.

“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.

his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.

“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.

“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.

like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.

the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.

you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.

your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.

“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.

“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.

“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.

“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.

“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.

aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.

“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.

“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?

“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.

“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”

“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.

“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.

“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.

“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”

you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.

he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.

“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.

“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.

“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”

you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.

“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.

“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.

“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.

you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.

“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.

4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he

5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me 5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):

7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation 7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:

even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.

“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.

“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”

he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.

you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.

“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”

“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”

with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.

you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.

steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.

-h

you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?

you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?

you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.

you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.

your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.

you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.

by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.

when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.

you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.

8:35pm you: jen wyd?

you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.

8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?

you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.

call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.

rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.

you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.

“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.

“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.

“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.

“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.

“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.

you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.

“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”

“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.

he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.

in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.

“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.

“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.

“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.

“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.

“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.

he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.

“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”

your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.

your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.

when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.

10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine

a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.

you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.

in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.

you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.

when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.

“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.

“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.

“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.

sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.

the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.

“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.

“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.

“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.

“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.

he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.

“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”

you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.

“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.

“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.

“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.

“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.

“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.

you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.

“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.

the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.

but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.

your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.

what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.

“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.

“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.

you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.

curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.

“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.

“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.

“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.

you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.

“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.

“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.

“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.

“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”

you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.

he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.

“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.

you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.

the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.

all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.

after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.

the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.

another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.

one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.

he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.

you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.

“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.

you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.

“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.

you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.

he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.

“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.

“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”

hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.

“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.

“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.

“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.

a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.

“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.

a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.

“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”

you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.

from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.

your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.

that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.

somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.

he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.

you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.

you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.

“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”

“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.

“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.

“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.

“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”

you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.

“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.

but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.

“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.

you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.

you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.

“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.

jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.

“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.

“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.

“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”

you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.

you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.

“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.

you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.

you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.

though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.

it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.

when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?

you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.

when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.

you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck.

an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.

the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.

you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.

a feeling of dread runs through you.

you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.

why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?

you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing but good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.

hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.

you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.

it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.

you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.

12:27am. hyuck should still be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.

only one ring passes when he picks up.

“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.

“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.

“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.

“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.

“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”

he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.

10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.

when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.

as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.

the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.

you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.

“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.

when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.

“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.

this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.

when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.

“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.

you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.

“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”

“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.

“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”

my girl.

you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.

you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.

“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.

“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.

“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.

“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”

he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.

“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.

“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”

you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.

he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.

“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.

“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.

you hold out your arms to him.

“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.

“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.

“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.

“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.

he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.

“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.

“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.

“sleep tight, sunshine.”

that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.

you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.

hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.

“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.

“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.

“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.

“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”

any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.

“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.

it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.

“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.

“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.

“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.

his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.

“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.

you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.

“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,�� he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.

“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.

“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.

“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.

he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.

“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.

“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.

he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.

he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.

“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”

one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.

“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.

you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.

“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.

“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.

“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.

he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.

“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.

the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.

in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.

“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.

“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.

“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.

he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.

“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”

you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.

“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”

his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.

“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.

“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.

“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.

“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.

“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.

“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.

“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.

“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.

“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.

he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.

tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.

he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.

he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.

he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.

“round 2 after dinner?”

the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.

“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.

you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.

forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.

“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.

“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.

you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.

end.

a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')

i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!

disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!

-coco ♡

#coco writes #nct smut #haechan smut #nct x reader #haechan x reader #stoner!nct #nct imagines #nct hard thoughts

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