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#fem!chay
daswarschonkaputt · 1 year
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so a few select people know that i've been working on these bad boys for a few weeks now. this collection started because @mortimerlatrice had the audacity to try and tell me that fem!kinn wouldn't wear skirts and dresses and i pretty much broke my tablet pen in the rush to prove her wrong. also i felt like redesigning my fem!kinn and fem!porsche ideas. beneath the cut are my thoughts on these outfits plus the fashion collections they're inspired by/referencing.
fem!kinn businesswear looks
fem!kinn i feel like is the type of person who weaponises her gender expression. every part of how she presents herself is a carefully cultivated power play. she smokes cigars and drinks scotch and can talk at length about stocks and cryptocurrency, but she wears high heels even though she had to teach herself how to run in them, has long hair even though styling it is a nightmare, and is never seen without make-up, because every part of her must straddle a line of being masculine enough to be respected without being dismissed as butch, or a transgressor of gender norms. so: power suits and heels.
most of these are just riffs on the show's suits, so no real reference images, though hilarious @elnotwoods and i managed to parallel brain the exact same corset + suit look bc we are bloggers of TASTE.
fem!kinn occasionwear looks
the product launch -- upon rewatching clips from this episode i realised that the product launch apparently has a roaring 20s theme? which be wildin'. i spent so long looking at pictures of 20s style dresses until i found eliza jane howell who is a tiny british designer who has an entire collection of 20s inspired gowns. the inspo for kinn's dress was the miranda dress from her eveningwear collection.
the diamond auction -- i've drawn fem!kinn in this dress before, and i stand by it. this is a dress from ralph and russo's fall 2015 couture collection, specifically look 12. i first saw this dress months ago when i was looking for clothes for a project i was working on and it's lived in my brain rent free since.
date night i and date night ii -- both of these dresses i saw on pinterest somewhere and forget to save the link bc when i do art i usually have abt 50 billion tabs open. (i make firefox weep each time i open a new one.)
looks that almost made it in: michael cors rtw fall 2022 look 24; and schiaparelli couture spring 2022 look 24.
fem!kinn misc looks
okay so the theme for this one was actually "iconic kinn looks" and you know what? the towel was iconic. there i said it.
the sleepwear look -- *cries in detail work* yes all that lace is hand-drawn YES MY WRIST ACHED SO BAD AFTER FINISHING IT, this one is just conjured out of my head, no inspo look
the suspenders -- real ones know which kinn look this one is based off. just google kinn in suspenders or something i guess because we were ROBBED that it wasn't in the show. ROBBED.
the towel -- since drawing it multiple ppl have told me that they think fem!kinn would just wear the towel on her hips, tits out, no shame, and they are all so valid.
family portrait -- when i was drawing this, i got sent a look by siv that i initially discounted because it was a skirt suit and fem!kinn all about those power suits. and then i was looking for thai designers and i saw the same look and i was like, "okay but she'd only wear this in a family portrait," and then i was like hhrrrrnngngn family portrait outfits for all of them, so now it's a category. this is a recoloured version of poem bangkok's fall 2022 rtw collection look 19.
fem!porsche "pre-kinn" looks
okay so my thoughts on fem!porsche are as someone for whom gender is almost an afterthought, whose main friends are all guys, who drinks bear and kicks ass and cuts her own hair whenever it gets too annoying, who buys male toilettries because they're cheaper, who's made a career out of being rich girl's experimental whirl into lesbianism, and who can get them off real easy but isn't so good at getting herself off. she's hooked up with her fair share of guys, and considers herself more of a male-leaning bisexual. like, girls are fun and all, but she tends to have a better time when she hooks up with guys. (kinn's gonna blow that out of the water, hahaha.)
the fighter outfit -- originally this was going to be just a sports bra + jeans, but then i saw a pic of a cropped hoodie and my brain just sort of blanked out and when i was done the art was finished. porsche's abs are very important to me. as are her arms. and her thighs. she's an itty bitty titty committee member tho and i stand by that.
the bartender outfit -- i've drawn this one before, but yes! all the buttons undone! cheapest black shirt and slacks! converse!!! YESS
the casual outfit -- bike shorts, big t, big shirt? yes. fem!porsche sits somewhere between jock and gonna-fix-your-appliances on a fashion basis and i am here for it.
fem-porsche "kinn era" looks
one of the big ideas i had going into this project was the idea that porsche feels divorced from her femininity in a way that she's not altogether satisfied with and that kinn helps her reconnect with it. because, like, let's be real: porsche has no major feminine influences in her life growing up, and she's literally always got bigger concerns. she defo plays up the idea that she's above it all, whilst also completely lost as to how to get to there. kinn is probably both an object of envy and attraction for her.
(also i have in my head that the sauna conversation goes something like: porsche: do you have a boyfriend, then? kinn: i've never once found a man that truly wants a powerful woman. porsche: huh, that's weird. i've had no trouble finding guys who want me to hold the up against a wall.)
anyway it's important to me that kinn makes porsche feel dainty and feminine.
the bodyguard look -- hrrrrngngng waist. that is all.
clubbing with tankhun -- you know how i said somewhere between jock and owns a monkey wrench? meet porsche out clubbing. love it for her.
first public date with kinn -- so the background i had imagined for this outfit was that porsche and kinn are going public, and kinn sends her a box with a dress to wear plus heels, only porsche can literally not stand for more than two seconds in the heels and hates them, so she wears her converse instead. this is almost a direct copy of look 12 from monse's spring 2021 rtw collection.
black tie date with kinn -- obvs this is a dress that kinn picked out for her, so i thought long and hard about what kinn would choose. in the end, i figured kinn would probably want her to look regal. i looked at so many dresses for this one, esp bc there was a secret requirement where i wanted the skirt to be loose enough that kinn could eat her out in it. look, i just think it would be gender if kinn dressed porsche up in this dress and porsche felt all pretty and feminine and then kinn ate her out in the bathroom at the event or something. you know. girl things. this dress is look 6 from valdrin sahiti's spring 2022 bridal collection and i had to download a pdf to get a reference picture, so appreciate my work. also shoutout literally the only time porsche is wearing heels. kinn had to give her like three hours of walking lessons.
fem!porsche minor family head looks
michael kors collection saved my bacon here. i really struggled to figure out what fem!porsche's overall aesthetic would be for her minor family head position. i wanted something distinct from kinn, but didn't think she'd go full androgyny. in the end i settled on a well-tailored suits with a military flare in their cut.
first business look -- this one is based on look 19 from michael kors collection's fall 2022 rtw collection. dem arms.
second business look -- same song, different verse. same collection, but look 7. the thigh-high boots were added by me, though. i wasn't drawing lesbian kinnporsche without putting one of them in thigh-high boots.
visiting mum -- a couple of things. this one is based on this photo i found on pinterest, because i just really liked the neckline. details you might miss: this is arguably porsche's most femme outfit here, but she doesn't have the perfectly styled hair that she has when she's on mafia business, and she's still wearing her ratty beat-up converse. she's feminine, but trying to be authentic. it's a specific kind of messaging she's trying to get across to her mum. she probably agonised for hours over what to wear. kinn definitely really likes her in it.
family portrait -- again, plucked from my own imagination. the original inspiration for this look was look 9 from altuzarra pre-fall 2020 but if you click that link you'll probably be able to tell i went completely off-script. the more i drew it, basically, the more the altuzarra look looked too japanese, which is understandable, because that collection's whole thing was about blending modern and traditional japanese fashion. in the end, i pivoted, and brought it more in line with kinn's look, because i really did want them to have similar vibes. (couples outfits? couples outfits!!)
near misses -- these ones almost ended up involved: altuzarra pre-fall 2020 look 6 for the family portrait; michael kors fall 2020 look 60 also for the family portrait; michael kors fall 2020 look 30 for minor family mafia business; look 17 from alexander mcqueen's 2011 pre-fall collection also for mafia business; this look from pinterest for mafia business that got discounted bc i was going in a different direction; and this dress from rouba.g's spring 2019 rtw collection for the black tie dress which literally only avoided inclusion here because i couldn't make the sheer fabric look right.
anyway the takeaway here is don't get into an argument with me because i will bring receipts. mort learned their lesson, don't worry.
also @yeetlegay i gave you adequate warning. you knew it was coming.
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kawasiki-jo · 10 months
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Well, 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
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wildelydawn · 8 months
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hey i saw on twitter you can't stop thinking about fem!kimchay so i came to give my contribution. kim would have the boobs and chay would have the butt in the relationship, i can't see it the other way around honestly. ok that's all, bye now XD
HELLO!! WELCOME TO MY FEM!KIMCHAY BRAIN ROT LET'S GAUUR.
Okay, so I totally respect the vision you've got but in what I'm currently writing for @fawndlyvenus, I have Chay as the big titty, goth girlfriend. I also think Kim has a decent set of titties because Kinn canonically has the biggest set known on this planet, so I think that runs in the family (don't ask me what this means in terms of Korn welp). I like to think that Kim is almost always in a sports bra/compression bra because she prefers to be comfy rather than anything else. And I agree, Kim's ass is cute and pert but Chay's is thick as fuck shapely.
I THINK YOU SHOULD STAY AND CONTRIBUTE MORE TO THE FEM!KIMCHAY AGENDA but please come visit again soon :)
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les4elliewilliams · 30 days
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Unwanted attraction // e.w
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coworker!ellie ✗ fem reader
cw/wc: 11k ; tried to proofread it but im blind asf and i need glasses so!! smut, swearing, strap on sex r!receiving, oral r!receiving, also mention of ellie receiving it but i was too lazy to write that part (possibly gonna make a few drabbles about it in the future, who knows) fingering r!receiving, angst. enemies to lovers trope :')
a/n: i'm well aware my silly goofy goose is the sweetest baby ever but imagine if she hated you, what would it be like? (besides trying to kill you and hunting you down ofc, let's remember this is AU) idk been daydreaming about it.
highly inspired by a bot on Chai ( *︾▽︾)
¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆
Rough sex on the bedroom floor
Hop in the shower, she begging for more
Do not disturb on the hotel door
✩ coworker!ellie made sure to make your life a living hell at work, whether it came to messing up with the neatly organized files on your computer or desk, complaining about everything you did, talking shit behind your back, stealing your coffee (and she didn't even like coffee, but she'd do anything to piss you off), calling you names, make fun of your clothes but at the same time checking you out whenever you bent over your desk or to pick up something from the musty floor. Such a delight she was.
✩ coworker!ellie absolutely hated how everyone seemed to love you, except her, of course. She despised how you always wore a stupid smile on your face as if nothing could ever bring you down, not even her. Your mere presence was enough to light up the whole room. She couldn't figure out what about you instantly attracted people.
✩ coworker!ellie hated how you always organized everything by color, name, and date like a freaking maniac, and obviously, she couldn't help but tease you about it.
"OCD much, baby?" "You should get this obsession of yours checked. it's not normal."
✩ coworker!ellie works as a photographer while you are a writer. Your job is to write anything that your boss asks you to write. However, Ellie often sends you the pictures you need for your works in the middle of the night or past the deadline, making sure you work overtime to finish your project. This often results in you getting yelled at by your boss the next day (which was exactly what she wanted)
✩ coworker!ellie always found something to complain about when it came to you. She disdained you and didn't even try to hide it. She would criticize everything about you, from your clothing choices to your makeup and hair. It was as if she were looking for flaws to point out and would not rest until she found something to complain about. She never seemed to give you a break, and you always felt like you were walking on eggshells around her. Despite your efforts to be friendly towards her, Ellie never reciprocated. But what she hated the most was how she couldn't actually bring herself to hate you; she hated how her body reacted whenever she let her eyes linger on your ass and tits for too long. She absolutely hated the skirts you wore almost every fucking day; it was a curse cause she couldn't despise your body.
✩ coworker!ellie hated how you talked, the sound of your voice, and how obnoxious it sounded when you spoke or giggled but secretly wondered how you'd sound beneath her, whimpering and moaning her name.
✩ coworker!ellie deeply dislikes when you gesticulate while talking and how your dimples show when you laugh at someone else's jokes in the office, especially when it's one of those stupid man. Because how stupid could you be? It was obvious that he was flirting with you with the only intent of getting into your panties.
✩ coworker!ellie gags around you whenever you walk by, and she makes sure you know how fucking disgusting you smell. How your flowery scent disgusts her; she's so pathetically disgusted by it that all she wants to do is bury her nose into the crook of your neck.
"Who the fuck is wearing this perfume? smells fucking disgusting" "Smells like shit in here"
✩ coworker!ellie always finds a way to put the blame on you when she screws up, especially when her boss is pretty pissed at her and is complaining about how she's not responsible enough and doesn't pay attention to detail.
✩ coworker!ellie will talk over you during meetings, even when she had been quiet the whole time. The moment she decides to speak up is when you take the initiative to do so. What a coincidence.
✩ coworker!ellie would often mock and make fun of you whenever you mispronounced something.
"You hear yourself? Like, ever?" "Princess' forgetting grammar today, isn't she?"
✩ coworker!ellie constantly makes rude and disrespectful comments about your ideas and contributions saying shit like
"That sounds like a stupid idea. But what were we expecting from you?" "Do you ever make yourself useful?" Your boss and everyone else in the room had enough of the ongoing rivalry between you two and they would always tell her to suck it up and take it outside. That's how things usually went: she'd say something mean, and you couldn't let her have the last word. You were always nice to everyone but you eventually grew tired of her ugly attitude and how unmotivated it was. Cause why the fuck was she so snappy about everything? What have you ever done to her? Easy. Absolutely nothing.
✩ coworker!ellie has never invited you to any of their coworkers' hangouts. She always came up with excuses to avoid inviting you, and the best part was that you knew nothing about it; she'd make excuses like
"She told me her grandma is sick" "I dunno, she said she already had plans" "She's dogsitting this weekend" Imagine how worried your coworker Dina was about your grandma. The poor girl was so concerned that she had to reach out to you and ask about it. What if you needed a friend to talk to? You knew she would always be there for you no matter what, but that's beside the point. Ellie most likely didn't consider Dina walking up to you to ask about your grandma, or maybe she did; it's not like she cared. Her sole purpose appeared to be provoking you anyway. "yn, how's your grandma doin'?" she had this soft, worried tone going on "My…grandma?" you looked puzzled and tilted your head slightly, trying to make sense of what was going on cause what the fuck was she talking about? Your grandparents weren't even around anymore. "Oh, but last Friday Ellie said…" she trailed off, finally connecting the dots. "Y'know what? I think I misunderstood." she quickly brushed off the awkward situation with a chuckle, realizing that adding more fuel to the rivalry you two had going on was pointless. she decided that from now on, she would be the one to invite you to their girl nights out. Imagine Ellie's surprise when she saw you enter the restaurant Dina had chosen, the brunette giving Ellie a mischievous smile from across the table.
✩ coworker!ellie can't help but look at your ass whenever she'd get the chance, the way you walked, the sway of your hips. She had always wondered what kind of underwear you wore and of what color. As much as she despised you, she wanted to know everything about you. What made you icky, what didn't. What was your type, what made you horny and desperate. Those kinds of things, ordinary things, basically. And she really couldn't stop fantasizing about you, imagining herself fucking you from behind, smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks on it, all five fingers.
✩ coworker!ellie couldn't quite figure out your sexuality. You were so friendly to everyone and she couldn't count on her gay-radar at all. She claimed that thing was pure bullshit cause she always ended up pursuing straight women. (such a loser)
✩ coworker!ellie felt like she had won the lottery the moment she caught you checking out your new coworker, who happened to be a girl. She couldn't pinpoint why she felt that way, she hated you after all, right?
✩ coworker!ellie spilled your pumpkin spice latte all over the scattered papers on your desk the same day out of…jealousy?
"Why the fuck would you do that?!" you raised your voice at her and promptly grabbed some paper tissues to fix the damage she had done. "Do what, princess? it was a mistake, chill out." she flatly said, veiny hands stuffed into her pockets, doing absolutely nothing to help you. She just stared at you with a cocky grin on her face, feeling proud of herself "It tastes like burnt shit anyways, dunno why you drink it." her nonchalance was making you even more furious than you already were
✩ coworker!ellie unconsciously licks her lips when you cross your legs and your skirt moves up just a bit enough for her perverted mind to think of all the filthy things she'd do to you if she didn't hate you so much.
✩ coworker!ellie who whistled whenever you bent over. And as soon as you straightened up, ready to go off on her, you noticed that she had this poised and confident look on her face. It was evident that she had anticipated your reaction and had an answer prepared for whatever you had to say to her, and to be quite honest, she mostly did it to get on your nerves.
"What do you expect me to do? You clearly bend over like that for me to notice." "Think I don't know you doin' this just to put on a show f'me?" "You bend over like a slut every single time I walk by. Thought I wouldn't notice?" and she wasn't even wrong. Despite claiming not to like you, you noticed the way she looked at you and you liked it, loved it even. It was quite entertaining how she tried so hard to convince herself that she did not like you one bit. Pathetic.
✩ coworker!ellie completely forgot you were on a business trip the moment she realized you had to share the same bed.
You were both sent on a 'business trip' by your boss and were assigned a hotel room to share for the duration of the trip. The hotel your boss sent you to was not of the best quality, to say the least, and to make matters worse, you realized that you had to share the same bed with Ellie. The situation caught you off guard, and you could sense the awkwardness in the air. You knew that sharing a room was part of the trip, but neither of you expected to have to share the same bed.
He must be out of his mind, was the first thing that crossed your mind.
When you called him to complain about his terrible choice, his dismissive comment made you even more furious "You're both women, I don't see why this is an issue."
Don't see why this is an issue my ass. Working with Ellie was already the worst thing ever, but sleeping with her? the universe or whoever must be playing a cruel joke on you because what were the chances? Plus, Ellie was being her usual self with that attitude, which obviously wasn't helping at all; you weren't gonna have any of it. "Just fucking great, I gotta share the bed with you" emphasizing the 'you' just to make you feel like a disgusting piece of trash that she absolutely despised. you couldn't care less; her petty comments didn't amuse you anymore. In all honesty, you were used to her ugly attitude. When you first started working with her, her hateful comments really got to you. You would break down as soon as you returned to your cozy apartment, making you feel like something was wrong with you. However, your other coworkers reassured you that she was like that with everybody, so you learned to accept it. Kind of. She still made your life miserable whenever she could, but you honestly loved this job. You had worked hard to get where you were, and you didn't see a point in giving up just because little miss hated you a bit too much. She dropped her suitcase by the door and slammed the door shut "You can always crash on the floor," you said back, mimicking her annoyed tone.
As you stood there, she turned to face you, and you could see the anger in her eyes. She shot you a death glare, and her lips were pressed tightly together. "I'm not a fucking doormat" she snapped, her voice laced with frustration and anger, like always.
You couldn't help but huff and roll your eyes at her behavior "Then shut your fucking mouth and stop throwing a tantrum like a little kid" Despite her scarred brows furrowing in anger, you couldn't resist the urge to call her out on her tantrum. Just as she was about to snap back at you, you cut her off with a simple "I'm gonna shower." You walked over to the bed, unzipping the suitcase you had thrown on it earlier. Your fingers searched for your pink cherry-patterned pajamas, which you had smartly placed on top of all your daily clothes for easy access. It was just one of the many small things you calculated and organized in your daily life. And, of course, she despised this aspect of your personality too; she hated how organized you were, everything you did, every gesture, every word; it always was so calculated, while she was more spontaneous (another word for impulsive) and never cared enough about how unorganized she was. As you disappeared into the bathroom to shower, she couldn't resist the temptation to rummage through your suitcase, hoping to find something interesting. An amused smile appeared on her face when she found sexy black lingerie; it was just what she was expecting you to wear underneath those slutty skirts you wore almost every day at work. Being the sneaky little mf she was, she put everything back the way you left it so you wouldn't suspect a thing. "Borrowing" a pair of your panties, a souvenir.
When you stepped out of the bathroom, you noticed that she had already changed into her comfortable pajamas. She was wearing a pair of black boy shorts and a t-shirt from what seemed to be a band she loved. The shirt looked worn out, the colors faded, but you could still make out the logo of the band, it was a casual yet charming sight. Despite her best efforts to control herself, she found herself unable to resist the urge to stare at you intently, your soft curves, and how the cherry-patterned shorts hugged your ass as the top fell loose over your boobs. It didn't take her too long to notice that you weren't wearing a bra, nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your top, but she forced herself to look away.
"D'you ever take a shower?" you quipped as you strolled to the right side of the massive bed "I took a shower earlier today. Besides, I don't smell bad, so there's really no reason to," she walked to the other side of the bed while trying her best to avoid making eye contact with you. "You gotta shower before getting into bed, it's just gross not to," you scolded her in a mom-like tone, making her roll her eyes in response. "Don't boss me around. I don't need a shower. I smell just fine." she said. You were getting on her nerves again, and you could tell from her annoyed tone; she never liked feeling judged or being told what to do. So, you decided to drop it — too tired to start another argument. You let out a sigh and collapsed onto the soft mattress, feeling instant relief in your back. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling, "Well, at least it's comfy," you muttered to yourself, as she climbed in next to you and grumbled, "I guess so" and turned away from you, yanking the covers over her head.
The room fell silent, both of you trying your best to ignore each other's presence. You shut your eyes, and so did she. Over 10 minutes passed, and you were still wide awake; why were you suddenly struggling to fall asleep? You were convinced that the little stinky beside you was sleeping, but she wasn't. The little cunt scooted closer to you, secretly enjoying the heat radiating off your body, making sure to keep her eyes shut in the process so you'd think she was sleeping.
She pressed her back against yours, and as much as it felt nice, you shifted uncomfortably and moved again. Your attempt to create distance between both of you turned out to be a complete failure; she kept scooting closer each time you moved away. "You're gonna make me fall out of bed, Ellie," you whined, shoving her away from you. Her eyes shut open, she muttered, "Oh, sorry," and tried to move away from you. But she found herself unable to do so for some reason. She longed for your touch and warmth, realizing that it was a pathetic situation to be in because she hated you; she couldn't feel this way towards you, so why was she? Instead of moving away, she inched closer to you, seeking comfort in your warm body against her cooler, freckled skin.
You huffed again in annoyance and turned onto your side to look at her, realizing how close you two were. "What" you asked flatly; she slowly rolled onto her other side to face you. She blinked slowly, her emerald green eyes taking in your features. You weren't so ugly after all, she thought to herself. She could feel your breath on her face. "Uh, nothin'." She didn't want to admit how comfortable she was with the closeness, feeling your soft skin against hers. "We are not gonna cuddle," you stated firmly. "No, of course not," she agreed quickly, not wanting to push things further either, deep down yearning for something more than just cuddles. She settled back into her spot, trying to ignore the slight disappointment that fluttered in her stomach "Stay on your side of the bed, s'not that hard." the tone of your voice was firm and slightly irritated, "Fine," the auburnette girl muttered under her breath, rolling onto her other side again. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore your presence as you both lay there in silence.
You faced away from her, your eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the tension you felt in the pit of your stomach. You considered facing the pillow or lying on your side, but your legs felt restless. You wondered if there was a solution to ease your discomfort. The girl beside you groaned softly, annoyed with your constant shifting, her eyes fluttering open as you kept tossing and turning. You heard her sigh heavily, rolling over onto her back and facing the ceiling again "Look, I know you're not used to me or anything-" she started but you were quick to cut her words off "Yeah, I am not" you sighed frustrated and mimicked her position, your eyes glued on the ceiling that seemed to be the most interesting thing ever at that moment.
Ellie turned her head slightly to look at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess we could try something different then," she softly said, her voice conveying anything but innocence. A subtle hint of mischief seemed to accompany her words, indicating that she had something specific in mind. Your head turned as soon as she spoke, brows furrowing at her words, "What do you have in mind, Williams?"
"I could help you...relax," she replied confidently, a sly grin never leaving her face. She moved closer to you, her green eyes are fixed on yours. Her heart raced a little faster as she waited for an answer, your consent, anything. Was she fucking out of her mind? Was she suggesting what you thought she was?
You scoffed, "What the fuck, Ellie? 'm not gonna fuck you." you replied sharply, squinting your eyes at her; she groaned softly and hovered over your body, propping herself up on her elbows. "C'mon angel, scared you'll like it?" a cocky grin glued on her face as she spoke confidently almost as if she knew what she was doing. She chuckled softly when you didn't reply, leaning closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, her hand gently stroking your waist "Just let me try," she whispered. Her cold hand sent shivers down your spine when she slid it under your tank top, your warmth seeping into her skin, igniting a fire within her. She had always wanted to touch you like this, even if she hated your guts. She leaned in slowly, eyes locked on your moist, plump lips. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would kiss the girl who pissed the shit out of you daily, let alone fuck her.
Your lips met hers, you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and chest, like a fluttering feeling. It was as if every fiber of your being was electrified with the touch, and soon, soft and slow kisses turned into a whole makeout session. Her tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly let her explore every inch of it, her callous fingers gently exploring every inch of your skin and your fingers grasping her messy bun, you still fucking hated her. A series of conflicting thoughts ran through your mind, making it difficult for you to focus on anything. Part of you wanted to pull away, while the other part was eager to explore this, whatever it was. Your grip unconsciously tightened into her auburn locks, slightly pulling her hair. "You little bitch" she muttered under her breath when she pulled away from the kiss, your lips mere millimeters apart, only connected by a string of saliva, "You're a little bitch" you were panting slightly from the intense makeout session "You're fucking obnoxious" she replied without missing a beat. However, this time, no hint of annoyance laced in her voice; her voice was husky and sultry, and she looked at you with such a desire, one that you've noticed before, but she was acting on it this time. Her hand began to tug at your shorts, pulling the soft material down. "And you're not?" you scoffed, your eyebrows raised as you stared back into those green orbs of hers. "Keep talking like that angel, see what happens," she warned you with a sly grin. "Why, what are you gonna do?" you challenged, but she seemed to ignore your question, for now at least.
She didn't waste time, calloused fingers pressing against your clothed cunt as she discarded your favorite pajama shorts somewhere in the dimly lit room. A soft sound escaped your swollen lips, making her smirk in amusement. "I barely even touched you," she teased you, her fingers tracing your soaked and still clothed slit. Your pussy has never been wetter, and you hated how skilled she seemed to be with her hands, how wet you became as soon as she touched and kissed you; almost as if your body had been craving for her touch. "Shut the fuck up," you hissed, only causing her to press her digits on your throbbing clit; she observed you; it was like she was analyzing your every move and reaction. She watched you squirm beneath her. "Aww look at you, baby. Want more?" she purred, her mocking grin taunting you, making you pout and nod frantically. You needed more. Your cunt was starting to hurt and clench around absolutely nothing, you needed her fingers and you couldn't help but feel extremely embarrassed by it. You needed her fingers. The fingers of the girl you hated the most. fuck.
She let out a dry chuckle and slowly shook her head, a few loose auburn strands falling onto the sides of her face "That's not how it works, you can do better than that, I know it." she encouraged you. it was all she needed to hear, all her ears craved to hear, you begging for her, begging for her to destroy your pussy.
As stupid and absurd as it sounded, you were only hers in her mind. She had never laid a finger on you before, but you belonged to her. She wanted to be the only girl in your life, the one you relied on; the worst part was that she couldn't even explain why she felt that way towards you. Why you out of all people? she didn't have the answer to that. She loved getting reactions out of you, getting you all riled up and fuming red, that's what she knew. But tonight, she was lucky enough to explore a new side of you. She wanted to absolutely destroy you. She wasn't gonna be gentle; after all, she still despised you.
You let out a soft groan when she pulled her hand away from your core, leaving you wanting more "Please?" you mumbled. Your voice was soft, timid almost. You hated that she was putting you into this position, and that it had to be her out of all people. She had you wrapped around her finger already and you couldn't even understand why. She expressed her disapproval with a subtle clicking sound of her tongue, shaking her head just enough to convey her dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough. She needed more, better.
Her faint smirk suggested that she found the whole thing quite amusing. "Please, Ellie..." you tried again, you could see the irritation build on her face, she let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Cat got your tongue, or what?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience "I need you to be specific. Tell me exactly what you need from me."
Despite your usual confidence, you found yourself letting out an airy huff, almost as if to release some of the tension you were feeling. Beneath her, you felt so insignificant, so vulnerable. How her green eyes studied you made you feel so exposed, you needed her more than anything. Your underwear was damp, and the uncomfortable throbbing was getting worse by the second "I want you to fuck me, Ellie," you blurted out, a mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement and desire. "Is that any better?"
"Good girl," she praised you. You could feel her fingers pulling your underwear down, leaving you bare from the hips down, you still had your tank top on but she was planning on taking it off soon, she was yearning to play with your tits, it was all she ever fantasized about. "Relax, okay?" she whispered due to the closeness, her face dangerously leaning into your neck. You could feel her taking in your scent, the same scent she claimed to hate so much, and soon attacking your neck with damp kisses. You tilted your head to the side and let her, as her fingers began to rub your aching nub, making you gasp at the contact, her hands were so cold, it almost made your hips jerk away, but she held you in place with her other hand, pressing her weight onto you to keep you down. Every little movement you made encouraged her to continue. Soft and small gasps left your lips. You quickly bit into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet, suddenly feeling pathetic for letting her do whatever she wanted to you.
"You know how long I've wanted to play with you like this, hm?" she purred into your neck, her fingers drawing slow circular motions on your clit, tracing your slit just to tease you "Fuck, you're soaked..." she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to you, taking note of every reaction you had to her touch. "You're a jerk, you know that right?" your voice came out softer than what you expected, it was impossible to be mad. How could you even be mad at her? She was making you feel so good. "Am I?" she slid a finger inside you, she could hear a few stifled moans coming from you, almost as if you were too proud to show her that she was touching you just in the right places, still struggling to believe you were letting her touch you. "Y-yes. I fucking hate you" you continued, trying to sound as mad as possible, she inserted another finger and began to pump them in and out of you "Why are you letting me touch you like this, then?" she had this sarcastic and taunting tone that would've usually made you mad if she wasn't fucking you right now. "Cause— can't sleep," you stammered out, and she chuckled at your words, amusement etching across her features "Yeah, that's obviously why you're letting me fuck you" She couldn't help but find this funny. You were always so confident, acting like she had no power over you and had her believing she couldn't bring you down no matter what, that whatever she did to you was useless...until now. So finger drunk, you needed her; it only served to boost her ego, making her realize that you weren't so bulletproof and unreachable after all.
"You dress like a fucking slut. Why do you even dress like that, hm? So that Luke guy can drool over you?" It was as if a floodgate had opened, and all her pent-up thoughts suddenly came pouring out as she kept finger-fucking you, her thumb teasing your clit every now and then. "L-luke?" You echoed her words perplexed, wispy brows furrowing together as you struggled to keep yourself quiet. You couldn't even fucking remember a guy named Luke, yet, there she was, acting like a jealous girlfriend while fucking you. "Yeah, Luke —fuck. you have an idea of how bad I've been wanting to bend you over your stupid desk and fuck you hard?" Her tone was rough, her voice dripping with jealousy and perhaps possessiveness, not that she had any right to act that way. "I thought you hated me" She snorted at your words, her eyes darkening with desire and a small grin on her face. "I still fucking hate you, don't be pathetic" she snarked out, pumping her fingers harder and deeper into you, curling her digits ever so slightly; she had your legs trembling like crazy and whining like the slut you were. "Hmm—fucking hate you back" you managed to say between a few whimpers. "Y'know what?" she abruptly pulled her fingers out of you, earning a small groan from your part "No no no" you complained, your voice laced with desperation as a small frown appeared on your features. "Take your top off," she commanded without giving you a further explanation "Your bra too." she added. You watched as she rose from the bed, and made her way over to where her backpack lay, discarded on her side of the bed. You followed her movements with your eyes, curious about what she was looking for. She rummaged through the bag's contents for a few moments before pulling out whatever she needed. A fucking purple strap. "Let's see if I can make you hate me even more." You could not look away, keeping your eyes glued on her as the auburnette stripped down her clothes with a purpose. Your eyes remained locked on her body as she moved and shifted, removing her clothing one piece at the other. You watched her put on her strap-on, her body was more muscular and toned than you expected, her well-defined abs making you almost salivate at the sight. "And you expect me to take that shit?" you blunted out, pointing at the long silicone dick standing erect, attached to her body, her v-line prominent "You're gonna take every inch of it, pretty," her tone was demanding, leaving you no room to argue with her decision.
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." you firmly retorted, completely reluctant at the idea, but she was already straddling your lap, spreading your legs wide to adjust you into the position she wanted. If anything, your reluctance only seemed to spark a playful glint in her eyes. She was clearly intent on having her way with you. "You gonna be a good girl f'me." She hushed you, holding the shaft still and licking her lips hungrily as she peered at your wet entrance. You squirmed and tried to close your legs but she wouldn't let you. She quickly spread them apart again, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thighs as she pinned them down to the mattress. "Nah-uh. Spread 'em open f'me, princess. I won't hurt you, promise." Her tone slightly shifted into more gentle one, and her eyes hungrily glazed over you. You let out a shaky breath and tried to relax all the tensed muscles in your body; she made you feel so vulnerable in that position. "Ready?" She asked before pushing the tip in, slowly, stretching your pussy out so good "Ahh, shit" you hissed, eyes shutting immediately at the new sensation, you weren't prepared for it. "Hurts?" you shook your head to reassure her. "Hurts good." She smirked, enjoying the feeling of power that she had over you. She started to thrust in slowly, only pushing an inch in every two minutes, allowing your cunt to adjust to it. She groaned softly, watching you squirm under her, enjoying how much you wanted it from her. "You're so fuckin' soaked, it's going in so easily" she commented, chuckling at your state. You were indeed fucking soaked, your juices dripping down your pussy, making a mess on the sheets. You arched your back when half of her strap was in, pushing your hips down to allow the strap to slip deeper into you, your cervix suddenly yearning for it. You gasped when the slight pain immediately turned into pleasure, your legs were shaking like crazy, so fucking pathetic; she loved the messy state she got you in. "Look at you, god" her voice above a whisper as she took in your naked body and the glistening strap that was sliding in and out of you. "Oh my god," you moaned, wrapping your legs around her waist to push her deeper into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; all this pleasure was almost unbearable, but it wasn't enough for her. Her head lowered just enough to take your neglected hard nipples into her mouth, sucking on them. You could feel the tip of her tongue circling the hard nub before releasing it with a pop, switching to the other nipple to give it equal attention. Your boobs were better than she had imagined, so fucking beautiful.
"Always bending over when I walk by. Was this what you were trying to achieve?" she rasped out, slamming her dick into you hard. "Ellie!" a muffled cry escaped your lips as the corners of your eyes filled with unshed tears began to glisten, seeing you like this was one of her favorite things. You were so pretty and desperate, she couldn't get enough. The tip of her purple cock was hitting your cervix just right; obscene moans, a symphony of lustful ardor flooded the air filling the hotel room. "I asked you a question, baby" She grasped your chin firmly and forced you to meet her gaze. Your head swiveled back and forth, your brows quivered under her unrelenting gaze. A soft sniffle emanated from your nose as you attempted to produce a clear response "N-no," but both of you knew that wasn't the truth. You were acutely aware of how she gazed at you with unbridled desire and hunger. The way her emerald orbs scrutinized every inch of your body left you flustered, almost as if she could devour you with just her gaze and you couldn't help but like it.
The strap sliding out as she said "Dunno, sounds like a lie to me" only to slam it back in even harder than before, causing you to squeal. Tears welled up, their weight unbearable on your eyelids. "P-please, I can't…" you pleaded with a feeble voice; it was almost imperceptible to the ear, but she could hear it loud and clear. Her ears were enhanced, honed in on the sound of every little gasp that escaped your mouth, each breath you took, every moan of pleasure. "Can't what, huh?" She appeared to be playing dumb, fully aware of the intense feelings coursing through every fiber of your body. As she moved in and out of you faster and faster, she could not help but feel the heat radiating from every inch of your skin, making her own body burn with desire. She knew that she had complete domination over you, that she had reduced you to nothing more than a helpless puppet at her mercy; she had you crying and moaning like a porn star. "Feeling good, angel?" Your cute whimpers only added fuel to her desire, fueling her to go harder and harder. Her fingers dug into the soft, warm fat of your hips, and her nails sank into the flesh, leaving small crescents behind on your skin. She was not being soft or gentle anymore. Instead, she was rough with you, enjoying her domination and relishing in the feeling of having her way with you.
"Gonna cum on my cock, yeah?" she purred, sending a chill up your spine as her words penetrated your ears, your body was completely at her mercy, and it seemed as though she was the only thing that existed at that moment "No one's gonna fuck you better than me," and you knew she was right. She could feel your walls clenching around her, almost as if you were trying to trap her in. She could tell you were about to cum. The familiar sensation of the knot snapping overcame you, causing you to cry out her name. Your polished nails dug into her back, drawing faint, pink-ish lines that would remain there until the next morning. For some reason, she loved the idea of having a small reminder of what you two had done together on her body. Like a souvenir, one which would bring back fond memories each time she looked at it; Ellie was secretly a sucker for that kind of stuff. Her body pressed closely against yours, her heartbeat as frantic as yours. You could feel every breath she took as she panted on your bare shoulder, the heat of her breath filling your senses and your skin tingling under her touch.
As your high began to fade, she pulled out of you, bringing you back down to earth and back to reality. "Fuck" She breathed out, slowly sinking down next to you on the mattress. You just stared up at the ceiling, completely exhausted and out of breath "Best ride of your life, huh?" both of you were exhausted, but of course, she couldn't resist the urge to tease you a bit more, "Yeah, not bad" You tried to retain the facade of being unemotional and cool, but you were still feeling the aftereffects, your body still trembling "Not bad? I think you have a hard time admitting your feelings" You scoffed at the words; you didn't want to boost her ego and risk her teasing you even more the following day. Your voice stayed calm and composed, but your body language was betraying you. "My feelings for you? I hate you. Nothing more"
"Hate me so much you came all over my dick" She taunted you playfully, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes never left yours for a second, a gaze that was intense and tantalizing. Eventually, you turned to your side to face her, the side of your face sinking into the soft pillow, still blushing from the previous activities, a display of your vulnerability and sensitivity that was hard to hide. Her playful demeanor and teasing were making it difficult for you to keep your cool. "Why do you even go around with that thing?" You couldn't help but ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind the moment she pulled it out of her backpack. "Was planning to use it, obviously," She gestured with her hands as she explained herself. "Not with you, of course." She was quick to add, as if she had predicted the questions that were going to come next from you and you raised your eyebrows at her, your body language showing some skepticism about her answer. Such a fucking liar she was. Sure, she brought it everywhere she went just in case, but she totally dreamt of using it with you, her dirty mind filled with fantasies about the ways she could use it with you. "Such a dick," You rolled your eyes and turned away from her. You could hear her snicker at your words. Unexpectedly, she pulls you closer, her bare chest pressing against your back. Both of you are still sweaty from the night's activities, and you can feel her body heat radiating onto you, her arms wrapped around you tightly. "What're you doin'?" You groaned in protest, trying to get away from her grip. You wanted her to let you go, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel the urge to lean into her touch, a contradiction between your internal feelings and your physical body's reaction. She ignored you and kept hugging you, pulling your body against hers. Your breath hitched as you felt her touch and her body against you. "Spoonin' the shit outta you," She was so nonchalant about it that it drove you crazy. It was almost as if she never really tried to make your life miserable every day. But you couldn't help the flutter in your stomach, your cheeks getting warmer and hotter by the simple gesture. Your body was reacting to her touch without you even realizing which was an unexpected yet welcome feeling. You were thankful for everything that she couldn't see your flushed state. "Yeah, whatever," you grumble, trying to sound pissed off although you're actually feeling quite the opposite. "Sleep well, pretty," She mumbled tiredly, sending a wave of confusion through your body as her lips brushed your shoulder. It was a small gesture, one that should not have warranted this level of reaction. But your body had other ideas. A wave of butterflies erupted in your belly, making you feel a bit dazed for a moment and smile like an idiot.
The following days were filled with unspoken tension and the usual bickering. But this time it was different. There was something more lingering in the air, as though that night you had together had changed the feeling between the two of you. Although the change was subtle, it was there and could not be ignored. She started to think that maybe, she didn't despise you as much as she thought she did, and she started to put up with your behavior as if it wasn't that annoying after all, but she never dared to share that sentiment, as she was afraid you would reject her or not see her in the same way. She would always find any excuse to touch you briefly, grope your ass or your tits, and to her surprise, you would let her; her hands would brush against your body, her grip lingering just a bit longer than necessary. And she seemed to be getting clingier, she hated not being the center of your attention, even for a second. Even though she knew you were writing an article and had a deadline to make, she could not stand it when you were so dismissive of her need for your attention. She tried distracting you by cupping your breasts, hoping to get your focus off your work, but you would just push her away each time. "i really, really, need to finish this." shooing her away like a stray dog with a wave of your hand. She took advantage of your distracted state to sneak under the small hotel desk, one of her tactics to get your attention. The warm palms of her hands gently rubbed both of your knees, a sudden contact that caught you off guard. You jolted at the sensation and pushed your chair back slightly in response, your eyes following her hands as she moved them to your knees. "What're you doing?" You asked her, perhaps with an edge of irritation in your voice, your tone tinged with annoyance and trying desperately to maintain your focus. It was the third time she tried to distract you, and although you found it cute, you needed to finish your article. "What do you think I'm doing?" She looked up at you, raising her eyes to meet yours, as she spread your legs open. She pulled you closer, her hands now roaming freely over your thighs, touching you in ways that made you tremble. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving you alone, and was willing to go to greater lengths to get your entire attention. "Ellie, I seriously need to finish this stupid article," You protested weakly, trying desperately to retain your focus and not give in to her charms. However, the way she was looking up at you from under the desk was more than enough to make you fold the slightest bit. The way her eyes glimmered with desire, the way she was holding your legs and pulling you close to her, it was all taking its toll on your body, making your pussy throb with anticipation and excitement.
"Just wanna help" She shrugged in a playful manner and acted all innocent and cutesy, but the mischievous look in her eyes said otherwise. She was teasing you, knowing full well what she was doing and how she was affecting you, she was enjoying the power dynamic and knew you would not be able to resist her. You sighed and rolled your eyes at her "Fine" You eventually gave in, unable to resist her; an expression of triumph appeared on her face as she knew that her teasing efforts had been successful. "Lean back, beautiful" She demanded softly, her hand reaching up to press on your abdomen to push your back against the chair. You helped her roll up the black skirt to give her better access to your core, making her grin even wider at your willingness. Her fingers immediately hooked onto the waistband of your panties, sliding them down slowly, revealing your pussy to her. "So fucking pretty" She couldn't help but voice her thoughts, her obsession with your pussy was clear, and she had been dreaming of tasting you ever since that night. It was a shame that she hadn't had the chance before, but she was more than determined to make up for lost time. Already two days had passed from that night and she felt like she was going crazy already.
Her soft lips kissed your inner thighs, sending shivers up your body as they brushed near your sensitive flesh. You could feel her breath as her lips touched your body, and it was an incredible sensation, driving you utterly insane. She loved driving you crazy and she was great at it. "Ellie, your teasing is getting old" You huffed trying to hide how worked up she was getting you. Every touch of her lips on your skin made your body twitch uncontrollably, every caress of her hands sent shivers through your body. Your breath was getting heavier, you could feel your body start reacting to her exploration. "Doesn't seem like it to me, especially judging by your pussy — God, so wet." Before you could even open your mouth to reply, she gave you a small, catlike lick, almost as if she was testing the waters to see how you would react. You felt a jolt through your body as she explored your wetness, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm in your seat. When she tasted you, she could have sworn her head spun from the sensation, nothing came close to the taste of you. In a quick movement, her arms wrapped around your legs, pulling your dripping cunt closer to her face as she devoured you hungrily. The sensation of her mouth on you was almost unbearable. Her tongue flicked expertly, teasing and tasting every inch of you. The cute sounds she made against your cunt barely audible over your high-pitched moans.
She loved how responsive your body was, how wet you easily got at her touch. It made her stomach do pathetic flip-flops, feeling like a schoolgirl in love. She loved having such control over you, and it made her feel powerful. Your hands gripped the edges of the desk tightly, your breaths becoming more ragged as she continued her work. "Fuck...need—need more, please."
She knew exactly what you needed and was more than ready to provide it. She slid two fingers inside you, curling them enough to reach your g-spot with such ease that you nearly screamed. You were already struggling to keep your legs open, you could feel your orgasm nearing and she could sense it too. She continued to finger you mercilessly, her other hand holding your hip firmly in place; you always moved a lot whenever you were close; that's what she learned in the last few days. Your head rolled back, your legs tensing up as you felt a surge of pleasure coursed throughout your body. Everything was tense, and your breath heaved slowly, and your mouth hung open. Your entire body was in a state of pure ecstasy, your mind barely able to think clearly as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation. "Guh-od," you choked on your own words, the sounds of your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you came in her mouth, the slight slurping noises she made were absolutely disgusting.
When she pulled away, she was gasping for air, and you could see the satisfaction on her face as she had taken care of you. It was clear that she had enjoyed herself as much as you had, and she had absolutely no regret or shame about what she had just done. Feeling you cum on her fingers and in her mouth was even better than fucking you senseless with her strap. "You taste so fucking-" But you cut her off, grasping her hand still gripping into your hip. The sudden movement made her freeze for a moment, taken by surprise as she was still trying to process the intensity of the moment. "I wanna taste you too." You got up from your chair, pulling her up with you. You held her close to your body, your feet moving slowly towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you kept her just an inches away from your body, your grip tight around her waist. "Oh really?" She cracked a playful smile, amused by your statement, clearly in for whatever you had in store for her. When the back of your knee hit the bed, her hand gently pressed on your chest to push you down onto the bed. Everyone knew how the rest would go, you were bound to continue where she left off.
✩ coworker!ellie acted like nothing happened when your little business trip ended, and things went back to how they were. It was as if all the conversations and moments between you two never existed like she had never touched you. She went back to her usual routine of barely talking to you, and when she did, it was usually something negative. You didn't know what to make of her behavior. You expected some kind of reaction from her, but not...this.
✩ coworker!ellie would seem completely normal when you were alone, but when you were in your work environment, she became distant and aloof. She would occasionally take you out on dates and be affectionate after your hookups, but it was such a confusing situation to be in; her actions seemed to contradict each other. She'd act like a jealous girlfriend if someone approached you but she wouldn't commit to you.
She always ensured no one was around before touching you or even saying something remotely sweet to you. She'd sneak behind you and wrap her arms around your waist while you were too busy with something to notice. Her breath would hit the side of your neck, and when you tilted your head to give her easy access, she'd attack your neck with kisses. Or she'd compliment you, but it'd be in her own style and all. "You look like a slut in that" followed by a "Can't wait to fuck you tonight"
✩ coworker!ellie gave you the silent treatment for an entire week after confronting her about her confusing behavior. You couldn't help but feel frustrated by her lack of communication, and you wondered if it was worth pursuing a relationship with someone who couldn't express her feelings properly. One day, when you arrived at work, you found a beautiful bouquet of red roses sitting on your desk, accompanied by your favorite coffee.
She was leaning against your desk, patiently waiting for you to arrive. You couldn't hide your surprise, and you asked her what it was all about. "Got you a lil somethin'," she said, handing you the roses. You tried to remain calm, but you were still hurt by her previous behavior. How could she ignore you for a whole week and get you roses like nothing happened? "I'm tired of your stupid mind games" You frowned slightly "What do you want?!" You let out a frustrated sigh. "No weird shit this time, I promise" she said. "I want to make it official between us." You were skeptical, but a part of you wanted to believe her. You had strong feelings for her, and you couldn't deny that you wanted to take things to the next level, but you needed to be sure that she was serious about your relationship, so you didn't accept right away. She needed to earn it.
✩ coworker!ellie spent weeks trying to make amends and apologize, but you initially remained distant and unresponsive. She tried to win back your affection with small gifts and kind gestures, but it seemed like that wasn't enough. You only wanted her to publicly demonstrate her affection and show everyone how much she truly cared. Eventually, she seemed to get the hint and adjusted her approach. The way she asked you out was...romantic.
You were way too engrossed in organizing the papers on your desk and you failed to notice her walking up behind you. You could hear her footsteps as she entered your shared office, but you didn't expect her to approach you. You heard the door close, but you were too deep in thought, standing before your desk, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you sorted through the papers. Suddenly, you felt her arms wrap around you from behind, and you let out a small yelp of surprise. Her lips hovered over your neck, where she left a few gentle kisses that made you instinctively tilt your head to the side.
Her hands lowered to your hips, pushing your butt into her crotch; you pushed back slightly, trying to get away but she was just too tempting, and the feeling of her body pressed against yours was too much for you to resist. "What do you think you're doing?" You sighed, trying to sound annoyed. "I want you." Despite your body craving her touch, you knew better than to fall for her emphasis on the word 'you'. Every part of you was trying to resist, calling you to give in to the temptation of her sweet words, of her tender lips on your necks, but the rational side of you knew that this could not end well. But god, the way she was touching you, her hands fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, it was driving you crazy, she was driving you crazy.
You took hold of her hands and held them firmly to prevent further movement. "You're too much of a pussy to actually treat me right in front of other people" The moment your words left your lips, you could see them reach her and resonate with her in a way that you didn't quite expect. She was visibly taken aback, but she didn't stop what she was doing. "I told you I want you. I'm more than serious," she insisted, her tone serious and unwavering. Her hands lifted your skirt slightly, causing you to immediately glance towards the locked door. "Here? Now?" you internally panicked, and she could feel your body tensing up in her hands, but she hushed you. "Everyone's on a break, no one will walk by," whispering tantalizing words into your ears that set your body on fire and made your heart race. "Just keep it quiet, we'll be quick" so you gave in cause how could you not? the way she kept pushing your ass closer to her pussy was just enough for you; her body language screamed desperate, and honestly, so did yours.
Her lips kept kissing your neck, and she knew exactly where the sweet spot was; she knew your body like the back of her hand. Her hands slowly trailed over your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, massaging them in circular motions through the fabric. A stifled whimper echoed in the small office and you could feel yourself getting wet, your pussy throbbing like crazy already. "Y-you can't just...do this and act distant when we're in public" she already had you stuttering and struggling to keep your breath even, your voice coming out a lot softer than intended, making her smirk against your soft skin. "I want you" She repeated, her tone serious and sultry, like a serpent tempting you with her words, luring you in with her touches; you sighed at her words. "What kind of I want you are we talking about?" You watched her hands roam all over your body, and they seemed to have a life of their own. She pressed your back into hers, her tattooed arm trailing down to your skirt, sliding under it and inside your panties. "I want to fuck you, I want you to cum on my fingers, and I want you to be mine," you gasped when her fingers found your clit with such ease, rubbing it "Be yours?" You uttered weakly, trying to contain your whimpers. The sensation of her touch was too intense for you to keep quiet, and every little sound you made felt like a confession; you wanted this, you wanted her hands on you, and you wanted her lips. She hummed back in response. "Be mine."
"Ellie, I want to be your-" You let out a slight moan as she rubbed your throbbing nub faster, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands reached out to grip the edge of the desk to support yourself as your poor legs were starting to give up. The feeling was overwhelming, almost as if she was controlling every inch of you with her touch, and your body was telling you that you had no control anymore. "What was that, huh?" Her tone was mocking, and she loved seeing you squirm and twitch in her grip. Every tiny movement of your body was like a sign that she had that control, that you were her puppet and she was the master in this little game of hers. She loved playing with you, making you lose control, and watching you react to her touch, her words, everything she did. "Girlfriend," you gasped out, finishing your sentence. "You wanna be my girlfriend, baby?" to which you responded with a moan and nod. Without warning, she pulled her hand out of your panties and pushed you down onto the desk. Your whole torso was pressed against the cold surface of your desk, accidentally scattering the papers you were organizing earlier. The girl wasted no time in pulling your skirt up, her green irises focusing on the wet spot she had created — fucking soaked; she licked her lips hungrily, pulling your pink underwear down. "Tell me what else you want, pretty" her fingers tracing your slit teasingly, collecting all your slick and messily smearing it all over your pussy. You shut your eyes, remembering yourself to keep it quiet.
"So ready for me—nice and wet, just how I like it." Before you could give her a proper answer or anything, she smoothly slid two fingers into your hole, sounds of pleasure filling the small room, hoping no one could hear you. "Want you to...fuck...treat me better," Her fingers picked up the pace, pumping in and out of you faster, almost giving you no time to adjust to them, she was so fucking desperate to make you cum on her fingers and god if anyone walked by, they would've been fucking traumatized, it was fucking obscene. Ellie finger fucking you from behind; she had you bent on your desk, just like she had always dreamt of.
"Treat you better, got it — Keep talking, princess." She just loved teasing you. She had you wildly writhing on your now messy desk, struggling to keep your mouth shut, yet she loved it. She loved the tremble in your voice as you tried to keep those cute little whimpers of yours at bay. So dreamy, such a slut you were for her. "I was so- mmph…upset when you…ignored me for a week." Each moan, each gasping breath, told her exactly how close she was bringing you to the edge. And oh, how Ellie loved being in control of that. "Yeah? I made you all sad?" her tone was mocking again, and her fingers moved faster and harder with each word that came out of you just to make it extra harder for you to hold your moans, such a cunt she was. You moaned in response, but apparently, that wasn't enough for her. "No, princess. I wanna talk it out. Use your words."
You whimpered and pushed your hips backward, meeting her thrusts. "I was...Ellie, please..." but she clicked her tongue "Was what?" She urged you, demanding that you finish your sentence. You couldn't see her face, but you knew just by her tone that a cocky grin lingered on those freckled features you loved so much. "Upset, con- confused" you stammered, bucking your hips against her hands as she kept fingering you mercilessly. "Why?" she knew exactly why, it was just an excuse to keep you talking. "Cause I couldn't understand, I just- 'm close." slutty moans echoed in the small office, no longer caring if anyone who passed by would hear you, you were far too gone for that, far too gone to think and use your brain. "I know angel, just tell me how you felt." all your juices making a mess of her hand, not that she cared, you were dripping all over her fingers and hand; completely enamored with the way your body reacted to her touch.
"I just wanted you and- oh my god!" and just like that, you exploded on her fingers; she hovered over your body, bending down over you just to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, her fingers still buried deep inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm. Your breathing was ragged, panting like a dog. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" she whispered in your ear, leaving a few kisses on your neck. "Yeah," you breathed out. "Yeah?" she echoed with a cheeky smile creeping up her face, though you couldn't see it. "Yes, but I'm not your fucking secret." you tried to sound threatening and she couldn't help but chuckle dryly at your words, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Not gonna be my little secret."
And she kept her word.
✩ coworker!ellie went from your biggest hater to your biggest fan. Could you imagine it? Well, no one could. She would bring you up in any context or situation, always speaking so highly of you. Your boss was taken aback by the sudden shift in her attitude. The same-room-same-bed mistake was indeed just a way to help you resolve your issues but never he expected that the two of you would hit it off so well, let alone dating. Safe to say that no one saw it coming.
"Could you give this to y/n?" "Who?" "y/n" "Ohhh...my girlfriend? Sure, will do." throwing 'the bomb' like that so randomly, obviously left your boss thinking she was just joking. No one actually believed her until you confirmed it.
✩ coworker!ellie couldn't stop yapping about you to everyone in your workplace (and outside), it was almost nauseating how much of a lovesick girl she became overnight, shocking. No one could stand her ass for more than two seconds. Constantly talking and rambling about how perfect and beautiful you were, how good you were in what you did — basically acting like a proud girlfriend, showing you off at any chance she got.
✩ coworker!ellie wears one of those customized 'i love my gf' shirts with your face just to embarrass you.
"Ellie, what. the. fuck. are you wearing?" you wanted to be mad, pissed, but it was genuinely funny and you found yourself unable to contain your laughter. She looked utterly stupid in that but you couldn't help but smile. "Told you, not gonna keep you a secret. Everybody needs to know." and she was so dramatic about it, making a bunch of customized things with your face. Shirts, boxers (which you really liked), mugs that she'd keep in her office, either to use them or to just put all her pens in, jackets, anything.
✩ coworker!ellie was always sticking to you like glue, never leaving your side no matter where you were. She would follow you around the office like a puppy, her hands always on your body. You couldn't have a conversation with anyone without her hovering nearby, listening in. She would steal quick kisses from you whenever she got the chance, be it in a meeting or in the presence of others.
Dina stood casually leaning against the doorframe, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Jesse, her boyfriend, emerged from his office with a broad grin on his face, looking a little bemused. Dina couldn't help but smirk "You owe me 50 bucks," she announced, her voice ringing with the sound of victory. Jesse looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You saw it coming?" he asked her incredulously, raising an eyebrow. The brunette shrugged, the smirk still firmly in place on her face. "It was bound to happen at some point," she stated "and I won, so...50 bucks." She held out her hand, waiting for Jesse to hand over the cash. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his girl's enthusiasm. "Fine, you win," he said, handing over the money. "And you're taking me out for dinner tonight," she added with a grin, her tone smug. "Anything for you, my love,"
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sayoneee · 3 months
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☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN
“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)
contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.
kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now
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LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.
the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 
you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 
“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”
“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.
“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”
hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 
you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 
you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  
“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.
luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.
“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.
“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 
“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”
“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”
“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”
“because i’m literally right?”
“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 
“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 
“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 
“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.
“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.
you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.
you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 
you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.
“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.
“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.
“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.
“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”
you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.
“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 
“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”
you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”
“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”
“— the two of you —”
“— were inseparable —”
“— for a disgustingly long time —”
“— and now you’re not —”
“— but we’re going to the fair because —”
“— his band is playing —”
“— and you’re going to try and fix —”
“— your troubles in paradise.”
you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”
“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.
“not the point, the point is, we support you.”
“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”
“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.
“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.
annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”
“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”
the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.
once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.
the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.
you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 
luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.
“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.
“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 
“i like you,” you say insistently.
“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.
“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”
there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 
smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.
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© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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cartierre · 5 months
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PRICE OF FAME | lh44
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lewis hamilton x fem!humanitarian!reader (fc: halima saadiyah)
side note: there's lots of twitter threads because reader doesn't post much about her personal life on social media, so it's mostly the fans trying to decipher it all
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♡ liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, pierregasly and 873,984 others
lewishamilton love and chai ☕️
view all 18,938 comments
user1 really sorry about the dnf :(
user2 THE SOFT LAUNCH HAS BEGUN ⤷ user3 so he really is dating again ⤷ user4 only took him about 8 years
user5 texas will hopefully be better!
user6 just hit me with a hard launch, honestly ⤷ user7 right? i need to know who she issss
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♡ liked by 198,283 people
tagged: lewishamilton, yourusername
formulanews The truth about Lewis Hamilton's new girlfriend is out! What do you think?
view all 2,389 comments
user8 oh wow she is STUNNING
user9 everyone doubting her intentions are looking so silly right now
user10 i love it when fans are being put into their place, you don't know these people so stop trying to make any assumptions!!
user11 i just know lewis and y/n were cracking up reading all your little silly theories about their relationship
user12 lewis really bagged a baddie ⤷ user13 literally! she's gorgeous AND educated? we stan
user14 so what i'm hearing is that lewis is basically her sugar baby? ⤷ user15 y/n so girlboss for being his sugar mommy
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♡ liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, pierregasly and 1,184,985 others
tagged: yourusername
lewishamilton it's actually fiancée, not girlfriend
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lecl4 · 9 months
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think again — insta au
summary. everyone’s so sure about the fact that you’re dating your best friend, to that you say; think again. warnings. none? (i think) pairing(s). lance stroll x fem!reader, lando norris x fem!reader (platonic)
fc. scarlett leithold
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, essere1655 and 457,198 others
landonorris P6, points on the board, pizza shapes in the bag which equals a happy y/n & i. Good days.
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yourusername those things made me sick
↳ landonorris no one told you to eat 3 bags of them
vroomvrooms robbed of driver of the day
l4ndo.n y/n and lando confirm your relationship challenge
↳ mcnorris they’re just friends mate
f1grlie great race landooo!!!!
yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, leclrcc and 6,429 others
yourusername AusGP
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papayacarz oh to be in the mclaren garage
↳ oscrpastry a girl can dream
smooth55 you>
landonorris …
↳ yourusername stop being weird
forzasixteen angel
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yourusername
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liked by chloestroll, lilymhe and 10,184 others
yourusername <3
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lilymhe has someone stolen you from me??
↳ yourusername never!!
f1nation omgomgomg
y/nsfav you’re insane for this
lando.jpg
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liked by lance_stroll, lnfour and 193,485 others
lando.jpg Two iced matcha lattes please
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formulay/n THEY WENT ON A COFFEE DATE
yourusername can confirm that chai lattes are in fact, better.
↳ lando.jpg …not so sure bout that
russell.grge lando’s jpg account > life
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, lance_stroll and 23,651 others
yourusername my love❤️
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lance_stroll ❤️
angely/n HARD LAUNCH OMG
mclrn.4 NO FRKN WAY
y/nloves so cute wth??!!🥰
landonorris sappy
↳ yourusername go away norizz
lance_stroll
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liked by estebanocon, claireannestroll and 109,237 others
lance_stroll ❤️
view all comments
str18 🥹🥹
wags.f1 cuteeee
yourusername omg what is that pic😭😭
↳ lance_stroll beautiful.
↳ landonorris kinda cute but i’m also throwing up
↳ yourusername OMG lando go awayyyyy
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note. had the overwhelming urge to write something about lance ( i wrote this like months ago but wtv, posting it now )
another note. this is my first post btw, kinda scary but fck it we ball
hope you liked this one!👋🏼💋 bye babes
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 7 months
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dress - m. murdock
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a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god. warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two word count: 3.3k summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: dress - taylor swift "say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."
Foggy is so mad at him.
You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.
You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.
So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?
He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?
He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.
You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.
So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.
Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.
He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!
By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.
And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.
So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.
It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.
He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.
He breaks up with the girl the next day.
• • •
And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.
You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.
It was nice to be wanted.
But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.
And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.
“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?
“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.
“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.
“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.”  You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.
“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”
“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.
“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.
• • •
Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.
And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.
“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”
“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.
“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.
After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.
So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.
“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.
“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.
He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.
Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.
You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.
He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.
And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.
“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.
“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.
And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.
You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.
“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”
Speak of the devil.
You turn back to him and smile.
“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.
“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.
“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”
He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.
But that’s not really what you’re asking.
“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”
“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.
“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.
It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.
Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.
And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.
“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.
You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.
Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.
“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.
“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”
“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.
He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.
You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.
“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.
“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.
“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.
“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.
“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.
“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”
“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”
“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.
“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.
“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”
“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...”  He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.
“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.
He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.
“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.
“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.
“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.
“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.
He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.
“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.
“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.
“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.
“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.
“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.
“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”
“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.
“And now I just want you more.”
The feeling is mutual.
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infoactionratio7 · 9 months
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call it fate, call it carmen - c. berzatto
summary: after carmy runs into a pretty stranger in a coffee shop that morning, he never thinks he will see her again... until she walks into his restaurant.
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem! teacher! reader
word count: 2,506
note: kinda set during season one when the bear is still the beef. no warnings really, some cursing, that's it! :)
read part two here! and part 3 here!
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sunday morning -
The bells of the little cafe on West Erie St chimed as you glanced up from your book, you were waiting for your name to be called by the friendly barista who had just taken your order. You were new in town, and wanted to explore all the different things Chicago had to offer. A man walked into the shop, inhaling the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee as he went up to the counter and read an order from his phone,
"Can I get a small iced dirty chai latte and a triple shot iced espresso to go? Please, thank you " His voice was soft, as he ran his hand through his messy curls.
He glanced over to where you were standing, bundled up in a winter coat, scarf, and hat (Chicago winters got cold fast). He gave you a once over, taking note of your book, 'Chicago: A Food Biography'. You seemed to be completely enthralled in the page you were reading, captivated by every word. He was not one to ever go up to a stranger, but he felt that he had to take a chance. The barista gave him his receipt and a small smile, telling him to wait over near the pickup counter.
"You ever been to Chicago before?" You look up, wide eyed, not expecting the man to be speaking to you.
"Oh," you exclaim, flustered. "Once or twice with my family when I was a kid, but not that I can really remember."
He smiles and glances at your book, you realize this was the reason he is asking you. It was a very touristy book to be reading. Especially because the cafe you were currently standing in, was highlighted in the book. You had made a list of all the places you wanted to visit that day before you had to arrive at the elementary school down the street to start your new job. "I love trying all the foods that are in the cities I visit, it's like an obligatory tradition when I move in to find places near my new apartment." You spit put your words, not even thinking that you are telling a random stranger in Chicago that you live near this cafe and just moved in. Blushing and looking down at your feet, you hear your name called from behind the counter, rushing to grab your drink and chocolate croissant before the conversation could get uncomfortable. You put the pastry in your bag and quickly wave at him.
"Have a good day, hope you find some nice restaurants" He waves back as you open the door and walk into the blistering wind that had taken over the streets that cold winter morning.
-
You arrived at your apartment building, it was not the nicest apartment you had ever stayed in but it was not the worst either. You walked up the stairs to your door and unlocked it with the hand that was not holding the coffee you just purchased. Rushing into the apartment, you put all of your things on the kitchen table and just took a breath of the cozy air of the room. As you stood there and took off your winter layers, you could not help but think of the man who had approached you in the cafe, realizing how attractive he was, his tattooed hands running through his hair, and biceps anyone could see just from glancing at his bundled up figure. You took a sip from your coffee, thinking how could he get two iced drinks in the middle of winter was beyond you.
You went into your room to grab some of your papers from the desk you had just built from Ikea the night before. You had to do some lesson plans before you did anything else, you had not even started any for that week. It was sunday and all you could think of was when you were in high school, and using your sundays to finish all the work you had neglected to do the week before.
Deciding to just get your work done you opened the package with the croissant, and took a bite. Tasting the buttery and chocolatey pastry seemed to bring a jolt to your brain and body, motivating you to get started.
-
Carmen could not stop thinking about you, he had wished he had formally introduced himself and told her that he was in fact, the owner of a restaurant that was a block away and it would be great if she wanted to visit and try something to commemorate her moving into the city. But no he just waved and let her go, watching her leave into the bitter cold.
"Jeff, you need to focus, you almost cut your finger off," Tina pulled him out of his thoughts with her concerned tone. "What's going on Carmen, you gotta be more careful than that, take a break if you need one."
"Fuck, sorry Chef, sorry" He put the knife down and put the carrots he had finished cutting into the giardiniera container for service later that night.
"You seem more distracted than usual, I can finish the cutting, just go to the office to cool off." Tina glanced over at him as he nodded, cleaning off his knife and putting it away. Right as he walked away, Richie walked into the kitchen.
"Cousi- Where is he going Tina?" He looked from Carmy to his empty station next to Tina, still chopping vegetables.
"He's distracted or something, just let him be Richie, don't bother the poor kid," She turned around to go into the walk-in, grabbing more fresh veggies to prepare for service later. Richie, as he does, ignores Tina completely, beelining to the office, where Carmy is running his hand down his face and pacing around like a madman.
"Cousin, what's your deal? You look like you're goin' fuckin crazy" He grilled, leaning on the door. Carmy shot him a glare, sitting down in the swivel chair that squeaked every time he actually tried to swivel in it.
" There isn't a fucking problem Richie, leave me alone." Carmy pushed himself into the desk so he could look at some paperwork he had been putting off for the past week. "I gotta finish this paperwork."
Richie raised his eyebrows, looking down at the younger man, he wasn't going to push Carmy any further, because the whole kitchen knew what would happen if the chef got mad before a service.
"Fine cousin, just don't take that shit out on the rest of the kitchen." He walked out of the office dorway as the rest of the kitchen crew started to file in to prepare for dinner service.
Carmy blankly stared at his paperwork, thinking about the interaction at the cafe this morning he just couldn't stop thinking about.
sunday night -
You walked down the stairs to your apartment complex, having finished your lesson plans just in time for dinner. Before you left, you had read of a few classic dinner joints in the neighborhood, one of them was called 'The Beef', known for their italian beef sandwiches and spaghetti with meatballs. After looking at some reviews online, you decided that it was necessary to visit this local staple. The reviews talking about how some days it was as calm as anything in the restaurant, but others the employees were screaming at eachother while getting the orders out.
You approached the building, right next to a big parking lot where many people were just standing around with sandwiches. Someone pushed the door open, smells and noise leaked out of the warm dining room. You could hear the screams from in the kitchen,
"We are down five italian beef, sweet and hot dipped, two ravioli, and one spaghetti meatball, Lets go Chefs" A tall man yelled into the kitchen.
The swinging door to the kitchen opened and a woman with a blue apron and white chef's coat replied "We are only down all those things because YOU never fired them Richie, why the fuck are you not firing the orders?"
"Calm down Chefs, just fire the orders, we can catch up if you both shut up and work, okay?" A voice you had heard before cut between the two arguing, they both got quite and looked at the man who had just exited the kitchen with five sandwiches in his hands. They nodded and went back to their respective tasks, "Okay, thank you chefs. I have 5 italian beef, sweet and hot dipped for Chelsea."
You were looking at all options on the menu and had not noticed the man calling out the order was someone you had met before. Carmy scanned the room, trying to find the woman who had ordered the five sandwiches he was about to drop. His eyes stopped on a familiar figure, the same he had been distracted thinking about all day. He didn't even notice when a woman came up asking for her order, scrambling to put the sandwiches in a to go bag and giving it to the woman.
"Excuse me, you're next sweetheart, What'll you have?" A rough voice pulled you out of your focus on the menu as you stepped up to the register. You looked up at the tall man who was smiling down at you like he had never seen a woman before, when he was pushed aside and a familiar face entered your field if vision.
"Cousin what the fuc-"
A woman's threatening voice came out of the kitchen "Richie I swear to god if you don't shut up, I'm going to stab you again."
He stalked into the kitchen, mumbling something about how unappreciated he was in this restaurant. You brought your focus back to the man standing in front of you, beet red as he watched the taller man walk into the kitchen. He turned back to face you and awkwardly smiled,
"Nice to see you again, what'll you be having today?"
You scanned the menu one more time and decided to have a little fun with the man, "Can you surprise me?, I heard that this restaurant is pretty big with the locals."
He looked at you with a pointed look, "Okay," he softly said your name, "What do you want?" After a long pause he wrote down the order, then looked back up at you with his foggy blue eyes. You were flattered he had remembered your name, did he really care that much about a stranger he had spoken to for less than two minutes earlier that morning? You didn't even know his name, but his warm gaze softened you like butter.
"It's on the house okay, I promise it'll be the best meal you've had in the city since you moved here. Be ready in 10 minutes" You were quick to reply,
"No, I can't let you do that, how muc-" He cut you off,
"This one time, I'll cover it, and if you like it, next time I'll let you pay, deal?" He held out his tattooed hand for you to shake,
"Fine..." You smiled, slipping your hand into his rough palm, he shook your hand firmly, then letting it go, gestured for you to wait at one of the tables near the door. You smiled and walked over to the table sitting down. He walked into the kitchen and you could hear his faint yells through the wall, telling the kitchen your order.
"God damn Cousin, you just took my job for no reason what's your problem?" The tall man, who you remembered was named Richie stalked back out of the kitchen to get to the line that had formed. You realized you hadn't even asked the name of the man who had just offered you a free dinner. Richie stopped in his tracks when he saw you, realizing that this might have been the reason his boss had been distracted all day. Thinking about the pretty girl that he had met, and clearly liked her enough to give her a free dinner. He laughed to himself, taking a mental note to make fun of Carmy after service for getting distracted because of a girl.
The blue eyed chef burst out of the kitchen door with a to go bag, and made his way to the table you were sitting, waiting for the food. He placed the bag in front of you as you looked up to meet his eyes,
"So what are you serving me chef?" You tease, "Well that it a surprise you will just have to wait to find out" He grins as you stand up to meet his height.
"Well thank you..."
"Carmen, Carmen Berzatto"
"Thank you Carmen, I'm sure I will enjoy this, and if I don't, I'm afraid I'll have to come back and try something new." Placing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly as you started walking toward the door. "I'll see you Carmen"
You turn around and start walking out of the door when you hear a yell from Richie, "Cousin has got a little sweetheart don't you"
"RICHIE I swear to God-" The door closed behind you before you could hear what the woman who just barged out of the kitchen had to say to the pompous cashier.
You silently laughed as you walked through the street, it was around the time for sunset and the sky had turned a beautiful blend of orange and purple. You reached your apartment in around ten minutes, getting out of the cold and eager to see what Carmen had packed you for dinner.
Putting the bag of food onto your coffee table, you grabbed a plate from the kitchen and started to unpack the meal. The first thing you pulled out was an italian beef, 'sweet + dipped' written on the side, then you pulled out a small side of fries, and lastly there was a plastic container of spaghetti and meatballs, with a piece of chocolate cake. You unpacked everything in front of you and the scent of the food engulfed you. It was a heavenly smell, so you dug in.
When you finished all you could possibly eat you noticed something at the bottom of the bag. A small piece of lined paper, that looked like it was ripped out of a notebook, it said your name on one side in messy handwriting and on the other it had a phone number and more of the messy chicken scratch,
hope you like dinner, would love to show you around the city sometime. call me x
carmy
You immediately opened your phone, putting his number into your contacts, then opening your message app to send him a text.
to: carmen
loved dinner, too bad i won't have to come back and get something else. i guess you'll have to show me around to see if any spots can top this one. let me know when you're free ♡
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kindtim3 · 9 months
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my gf!abby hc's <3
contains : sfw hc's , long/medium haired reader implied , fem!reader implied , readers skin tone/eye color/sex/body type not included! , modern au bc I'm sick in the head pics r always just 4 inspo!
part 1 ☁︎ / part 2 ☁︎ / part 3 ☁︎ (dark vers)
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gf!abby drives a black jeep wrangler !
gf!abby has the comfiest pillows in her car for u <3
gf!abby who bought u a dyson airwrap after u got a professional blowout for a mutual friends engagement party - abby was starstruck.
"how are they supposed to do that at home, too???" she listened so intently to the hairdresser bc she was obsessed w this look on u
gf!abby made a playlist abt u for HERSELF. she listens to it when shes not able to be around u :(
gf!abby lovessss reputation by taylor swift !
gf!abby associates graceland too by pheobe bridgers w u
gf!abby has several different flavors of gum in her car
gf!abby has SERIOUS baby fever.
"baby, PLEASEEEEEE. honey, we could have matching outfits with the baby!!"
gf!abby fucks w a iced chai latte and it HAS to be made by a queer person
gf!abby gets cuteness aggression w u. she'll be hugging u then suddenly she LOVINGLY throws u onto the couch and starts screaming
"YOURE SO ADORABLE I LOVE U SO MUCH I WANT TO EAT U IM IN LOVE!!!!"
gf!abby is typically a good driver but when she brakes hard she puts her arm out against ur chest and a string of "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry" come out her mouth and she's genuinely soooooo sorry :((
gf!abby loves stephanie soo videos. all her content. shes a stephanie soo stan.
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sinkovia · 3 months
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𓆩* Coffee Shop Masterlist *𓆪
➛Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.
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⋆ Warm welcomes
⋆ Page twenty-five
⋆ Bookmarks
⋆ Chai tea
⋆ The boys
⋆ Safety reasons
⋆ Riley
⋆ Book convention
⋆ Honesty
⋆ Happiness and fulfillment
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𓆩* Coffee Shop Imagines *𓆪
⋆ Readers Instagram feed.
⋆ Simon’s instagram feed.
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kawasiki-jo · 10 months
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Okay, so the MCR server was popping off about Fem MacauChay (which, btw, thank you, @transwegath , you angel) and I have fallen into a hole and it is dark and scary and lovely and I will not be leaving. ✨😌💚
So prepare for me to be obsessed.
I need to get some clothes on them tho, for insta, so if y'all got any suggestions or refs ✨😌...
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macfrog · 6 months
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2003: a dbf odyssey
a @chloeangelic x @macfrog fic
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greetings greetings one and all. welcome to the fucking circus. chloe cupcake and i have a gift for you. we put our heads together, took turns writing a classic dbf fic, and here is the hellscape we created. please enjoy. [this is entirely satirical and just for funsies. no harm intended. no tw discourse required. love u]
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: your dad's best friend, in your childhood bedroom, with his hard cock out. and that's all we have to say on that
warnings: unspecified age gap, tale set in 2003, female masturbation, creepy joel, praise kink, size kink, fingering, unprotected piv, degradation, angst!
word count: 4.6k
chloe's masterlist | max's masterlist
The sun shines through the window of your childhood bedroom. You’re still reeling from an argument you just had with your mom, over the degree you just spent four years and fifteen grand on. She doesn't understand your passion for fossils, she never has, and during every family function, only one person asks you how school is going. 
Joel Miller, your dad's best friend.
He’s tall. Broad. He’s built like a Dorito. Flamin’ Hot Cool Ranch. He drives a truck and he listens to dad rock. One time you saw him in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. You asked what that was, and he said it was a band from “before your time, darlin’”. You swooned at the pet name. 
He’s quiet and unassuming. Lingers on the outskirts of every gathering your parents throw. He likes to talk about construction, and wood carving, and little else. At least, that’s what you thought, before you came back home after graduating. 
Suddenly, he started glancing in your direction every time you came into the room wearing a tight little top with significant cleavage. He would clear his throat at dinner and wipe a bead of his sweat from his forehead at BBQs. 
You always called him Mr Miller, and ever since graduation, that name made him blush. Last Thanksgiving, when his family was over for dinner at your parents’ house, you started asking him about old movies, and he grumbled, then told you about 2001: A Space Odyssey. 
He said he couldn’t believe that a girl with a paleontology degree had never seen A Space Odyssey before. Promised he’d show you it sometime. ”Smart girl like you will love it,” he said. 
You had opened your mouth to respond, to lend him the quirkiest retort you could think of, when your dad had bumbled into the room, shoving you out of the way. He brought up the latest Austin Ice Bats game, took Joel up in a conversation you couldn’t be a part of - you knew nothing about minor league ice hockey. 
Your mom called you through to the kitchen and asked you to help her with dinner. When you came into the kitchen, she started asking you if you’d gone on any dates recently, if there were any cute guys in your college classes. 
You rolled your eyes, “No, mom, none of them are my type.” 
She huffed while handing you a pot of mashed potatoes, “What’s your type then?” 
You didn’t want to tell her that your type was older men. Really old, in their fifties. Your type was Joel, but you couldn’t tell her that. Instead, you described what you thought Joel might’ve looked like when he was younger. “Brown hair, beards maybe,” you said, and turned on your heel before walking into the dining room and setting the pot on the table. 
You glanced over the place settings. Your mom had already put down everyone’s drinks. Yours and Sarah’s - a glass of water each. She says water helps with clear skin. Her own - a white Russian cocktail. And your dad and Joel’s, side by side - two beers, dripping with condensation. You paced around the table, formulating a plan. 
As your mom’s voice drew nearer down the hallway, you quickly switched Joel’s beer for Sarah’s water, sitting him next to you.
When he came into the dining room with your father, you noticed that Joel was looking at you with dark, sultry eyes. He gave you a tight lipped smile as he sat down in his chair, then turned to your mother, “Looks great.” You felt his knee knock into yours under the table, but he didn’t move away. Heat pooled in your stomach. Your chest tightened, threatening to burst from the confines of your tight t-shirt.
The same t-shirt you’re wearing right now - sat at the end of your bed. Remembering the way his denim jeans felt on your bare leg. You lie back on your sheets and stare at the ceiling, thinking of his swollen muscles under his flannel shirt. The tuft of chest hair sprouting from over the collar. The veins in his hands as he passed you the salt. 
You were holding a pair of jeans in your hands, about to slide them over your legs when you looked down to see a wet spot in your panties, and now you can’t ignore the throbbing in your core at the thought of seeing him again. 
You carefully trace your fingers over your panties, grazing the wet spot, feeling your cheeks burning from the awareness that it’s your dad’s best friend making you wet. 
You lift the skirt of your barleycorn sundress and open your legs, knees wide on your springy mattress. You hope that it doesn’t make a sound as you push the fabric aside, dragging your fingers over your most sensitive spot.”Joel,” you whimper when your fingertip brushes your wet opening, but you’re startled when you hear the doorbell ringing. 
You pull your hand out quickly and your eyes flare open, chest heaving. You sit up, throw your legs over the side and slip on your jeans, button them up and turn to look at yourself in the mirror before heading downstairs, feeling the low throb deep inside of you as you carefully walk out into the hallway and hear your father greeting Joel as he comes in the door. 
“Howdy,” he says when he spots you descending the staircase.
You hold tight onto the handrail, afraid you might topple over from the sight of him and the fluttering between your legs. “Hi.”
Joel’s eyes travel from your face down your body, ending up on your legs. You suddenly feel self-conscious, but all the same, secretly thrilled that he’s staring at you in this way. You stare back, eyeing him up and down from his scruffy beard to his dusty lace-up boots. Your eyes meet again as you reach the bottom step.
Joel sniffs once. “The hell are you wearing a dress and jeans for?” he asks.
“It’s called fashion,” you sass, and he grunts in response. “Ready to watch the movie?”
“I’m readier than a fried egg on the San Antonio Boulevard sidewalk, darlin’.” There’s that pet name again. You bite your lip and walk into the living room, trying to regulate your breathing. Your dad is already on the couch, remote control in hand, saying he has rewinded the DVD and that the two of you are being slowpokes. 
“The old man’s got jokes,” Joel grumbles, motioning for you to sit down in between him and your dad. 
The three of you put your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. You angle your feet towards Joel’s, your pinkie toe nudging against the sole of his boot. He crosses his ankles and settles back into the couch, folding his arms and prodding your side with his elbow.
“It’s a classic,” he mutters, and you giggle.
Your dad’s head whips around to face you from your peripheral like he is watching a tennis match. “What’s so funny?” he bleats.
“Nothing,” you and Joel chime, focusing hard on the screen. You smile smugly at the fact that you have an inside joke with him, something just between the two of you.
You can’t focus on the movie when your dad turns it on, and you suspect that Joel can’t either by the way he shifts around in his seat. “Got ants in your butt, buddy?”, your dad snorts, and Joel waves dismissively while you stifle your laughter. 
“Just feel like I’m sinkin’ into the couch here,” Joel says, “‘S too soft.” 
Soft, you replay the way he says it, over and over in your mind. You wonder if he’ll think you’re soft if he touches you with his rough hands.
“This movie sucks,” you announce, halfway through. “I can’t believe I had never heard of it. I thought it only came out two years ago?”
Joel snorts. “It came out in 1968 and was directed by Stanley Kubrick, dingus. 2001 is just the title of the film.”
Your face flushes fifty shades of fuchsia. Your dad guffaws on your left side, clapping his hands together like an annoying seal. His laughter is so loud that he almost doesn’t hear his cell phone ringing until you point it out to him. 
“Yellow,” he says as he answers, and chuckles at his own joke, then holds up his finger and turns to the side, mumbling something into his phone. “Be there in twenty,” he says, then hangs up, and turns to you and Joel, “Gotta go pick up your mom but I should only be about forty five minutes as long as she doesn’t drag me into a conversation with her girlfriends. Y’all gonna be okay here?” 
You both nod and sit still as your dad groans and gets up from the couch, listening as he disappears into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket, then the door shutting. 
You go to grab the remote control to keep playing the movie, and accidentally spill some of the Coke from the can you’re holding. Joel is looking at the screen while you look at the dark stain on the couch cushion, and instead of getting up to get a paper towel to clean it with, you scoot a little closer to Joel. 
He clears his throat and puts his hand on the back of the couch, right behind your shoulders, not saying a word. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife and you glance down at his crotch to see the bulge in his jeans, then look up at him. 
He looks at you for a second, then furrows his brows, “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
“Thinkin’ about bones.”
“Bones?”
“Specifically the one in your pants, Mr. Miller,” you say and bat your eyelashes, and then, “Just kidding.” You turn your head back to the TV but you can see that he’s still looking at you. “I was actually thinking about the Micropachycephalosaurus.” 
“What did you say ‘bout my pants, darlin’? Could swear you said somethin’”
“Nothing, I promise,” you giggle and look away. 
Then his hand comes to your thigh, long fingers splayed over your jeans, thumb tracing back and forth, igniting a flame inside of you. 
“W-what are you doing, Mr. Miller?”, you ask nervously, feeling the heat pooling in your panties again, and this time, it’s not because of your imagination. 
“Lookin’ real pretty tonight,” he says, and his other hand comes to your shoulder. You whimper at his touch. “Can just call me Joel, you know that,” he scolds with a wink.
“Th-thanks, Joel.” 
You feel his hand come up under your chin with a featherlight touch, turning your face up to meet his eyes. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your face feels hot, your heart beating fast. 
He looks at you through big brown eyes. You blink softly back, trying to transmit a code to him to clue him in on the ache making your thighs clench. You wonder if he knows Morse.
Joel grips your jaw and leans in, his smoldering eyes flashing between yours and your lips. He purses his own and before you know it, his warm mouth is flush against yours, his tongue pushing inside. He licks along the rim of your teeth and you open your jaw, letting him explore your wet gums.
In an instant, you pull yourself on top of him and remove his flannel, ripping the buttons apart and scattering the cloth to the couch. Joel’s hands curve around your round tits, he rolls your pebbled nipples between his thumbs like fiddling with a console controller. You roll your hips forward with a moan.
He's so hard. You look at him with wide eyes and a pout, “You're so hard.” 
“Are you wet f’me, pretty girl?”, he asks. You know it's wrong, your dad could be home any moment, but you frantically nod. 
“Good girl,” he says, and traces his fingers along the edge of your jeans, barely making contact with your skin. 
He stands from the couch in one fluid motion, and you squeal at the sudden way in which you’re lifted in the safe grasp of his arms. It’s astounding how strong he is. How able he is to sweep you into the air, carry you out of the living room. How his biceps bulge as his boots thud up the stairs one by one.
He reaches the landing and pauses, eyes scanning the four closed doors. He steps forward and kicks open the one closest to your bodies, before realizing it is the bathroom and reversing out again.
“Pardon me,” he mumbles an apology, and you giggle again.
“It’s the one on the right,” you instruct, and he shuffles down the hall carpet before bumping your door open. He pauses for a moment when he enters the room - your childhood bedroom. 
“Haven't been in here in years,” he says, and you know he's referring to when he helped your dad take out the old closets and replace them with new ones. You still have the same closets. Maybe he's admiring his work. You look at the posters on the wall and your floral bedspread. 
Then he lays you down on the bed and sighs. “These old knees,” he grumbles, “And my fuckin’ back.” 
You giggle. 
“Mind if I take this off, darlin’?”, he asks, gently tugging at the bottom of your barleycorn sundress. You nod again, feeling your face getting hot and your panties sticking to your pussy. 
Your back arches as he slips the thin fabric from your body, your breasts spilling out of their polyester prison. Joel straightens up, admires the view and hums to himself.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muses, then bends again to press his body against yours. His fingers tussle with the waist of your jeans, the petite buttons only women's clothing seems to have, and you growl at the effort it takes for him to derobe you. 
“I know,” he says, lips close to your ear, “‘S these big ol’ hands. They get in the way of everythin’, baby.”
You whimper pathetically, wanting nothing more than those big hands to get in the way of you. You shove your fists beneath the denim when he finally undoes the zipper, and help him drag them from your legs. As soon as the heavy fabric hits your floor, Joel’s removing his own jeans. Now, only your underwear and his separate you.
There's a wet spot on his boxers already and you whimper when you place your fingertip on it, biting your lip when he growls at the sensation. “M-Mr. Miller,” you whine, “Can I see your cock? It looks really big.” 
“‘S real big, sweetie, are you sure you can handle it?” 
“Y-yes, Joel, I'm a big girl.” 
“‘F you say so,” he grumbles, then takes off his boxers, and you admire the sight of his manhood. You've never seen a big cock like that, a real thick and long one. You don't think it'll fit inside and you gasp, eyes flashing open while you start to creep backwards on the sheets. 
“Keep the panties on,” Joel orders, following between your legs. His hairy knees push deep into the plush cushion of your mattress, his fist jerks slowly up and down his dick, which seems to only grow larger the closer he gets.
You nod obediently, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes stick on the dribble of precum he swipes with his thumb. You fall back, head sinking into your pillows, and Joel hovers over you, one hand by your head. 
You peel your underwear to the side, now positively soaked. Joel’s hand leaves his member to cup you, feeling your dripping mess. “So wet f’me,” he whispers, and you moan, long and ragged. 
Then he touches the tip of his finger to your opening and watches you squirm while he starts to push it in, entering you with one thick finger. You take all of it in stride, and you frown when he retracts it. 
“So eager,” he says triumphantly, then adds another, and you feel the coil inside you start to tighten. You can't reach as deep as he does, nobody can except for him. Your dad's best friend, in your childhood bedroom, with his hard cock out. Tears start pricking your eyes as you get closer. 
You whine, “I’m gonna come, Mr. Miller.”
He clicks his tongue, “Just Joel,” and then he picks up the pace of his fingers, pushing them inside you until you gush all over your sheets and his hand, feeling the tears sliding down your temples and your fists gripping the sheets tightly. He made you come, it's like a wet dream. 
You gasp when you see the mess you made and he chuckles. “Sorry Just Joel - I mean,” you shake your head, clearing the hazy fog of sex your orgasm left behind, “Joel.” Your cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“No need to apologize, sweet girl,” he whispers, pinching your cheek with his soaked fingers. Your own cum stains your skin, somehow cooling against the stifling hot air in your room. The air filled with lust and sex.
He draws his hand back, wraps it back around his cock, rubs your gleaming slick up and down his thickness. He groans as you coat him, head tilting back to the ceiling. For a second, you wonder if he will actually fuck you, or if he’s just here to jerk off using your cum, kneeling over you.
Your query is answered when he returns his gaze to yours and leans over you again, running the tip between your folds. Your body jolts at the contact, overstimulated and spent already. But Joel doesn’t care. The man gives no fucks.
“Fuckin’ tight,” he groans as he makes space for himself inside you, pushing the head in and impaling you on his fat girth. You feel so full. 
He bottoms out and moans. You watch a drop of sweat gliding from his hairline and down his temple, then crane your neck up to kiss it. His tip kisses your cervix on every thrust and you grip his broad shoulders, hanging onto him while he pounds you. 
“Good girl, takin’ this big fat cock,” he praises, panting into the crook of your neck. 
“Oh, fuck,” you feel the band inside of you tightening, about to snap, but then he pulls out of you and wraps his fingers around his cock again, stroking himself and snarling when he tells you to turn around. 
You’re spent, limbs wrung out like a rag, but you force yourself up while you look at his cock dumbly, seeing his precum dripping out and onto your sheets. Suddenly, you hear him, “What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart?”, and you immediately turn around and onto your hands and knees, seeing a photo of your parents on your window sill. 
You screw your eyes shut so you don’t think about them, and try to focus on Joel penetrating you from behind in one motion, going full hog, filling you to the brim with cock. “F-feels so good, Joel,” you squirm and moan while he slips his large hands onto your hips, fingers splaying out over the curve of your asscheeks, pulling you back so he can fill you relentlessly. 
His skin slaps against yours, the air in the room quickly filling with nothing but the sounds of his moans and yours, his wet and yours, his body and yours. Your eyes squeeze tight until you see stars, raining down over the darkness behind your eyelids. Your whole bed shakes vigorously with the rate Joel pounds into you, mattress knocking against your nightstand and sending the objects on it tumbling to the floor.
Joel notices as one in particular - your Satisfyer Pro 2 Gen 2 Air Pulse Stimulator, which you find good but really intense with its sucking power - rolls across the wooden floor. His grip tightens on your hips and he chuckles. “‘S a good girl like you doin’ with a thing like that in her room, huh?”
Your back curls. You moan in response. “Umm,” you mumble nervously, trying to think of a response when you see his lips curve into a smirk, “I- I was trying to come, last night.” 
“Oh yeah? Thinkin’ bout what, young lady?” 
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You were thinking about him. He can tell - he brushes his thumb over your cheek. “Were you thinkin’ about me, darlin’?”, he asks, and you don’t respond. You look at him with wide eyes. “‘S alright, I’ve been thinkin’ about this tight little pussy, blowin’ my load in the shower. I ain’t ashamed to admit it, you’re a real pretty girl.” 
Your pussy gets wetter when you think about him touching himself and you wonder how it looks. Your dad would kill him if he knew, and you’re surprised Joel would tell you something like that, but it makes you so wet. 
The image in your mind forces you to arch your back, your body curving before Joel into the mattress. He grunts each time his hips come into contact with the plushy meat of your ass, telling you good girl and squeezing you just right as his cock hits you so deep you feel him in your chest.
“I’m - gonna - cum - again,” you pant, words muffled by the floral pattern your lips are smushed into. “Joel - I’m -”
“I hear ya, baby,” he says, hips snapping. His voice is rough, hoarse. He sounds like he needs some NyQuil. You make a mental note to offer him a refreshing glass once you’re done. “Cum for me, go on. Know you need it.”
Your walls close around him as you do as he says, tightening around the intrusion in your pussy. 
His cock begins to twitch deep inside you and he shoves you by the ass off of him. You tumble to the bed and roll over just in time to be drowned by his cum, thick white ropes spraying all over your tummy and tits. You worry with the ferocity of his release that it might reach the photo of your parents, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure of the moment, your own spend spilling out of your tight little hole.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, “Take that cum.” Then, all of a sudden, his face drops and he freezes in place. He looks at you, covered in his semen, then runs his hand over his face and tucks himself back in his pants. He looks stressed as it dawns on him that he just came all over his best friend’s daughter.
“Joel,” you say carefully. 
“Yes, darlin’”. He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 
“W-what if my dad finds out?”
He runs his hand over his beard. “I don’t know,” he says, “I gotta go.”
“But w-wait, Joel!”
He’s already shuffling out of your room, hopping as he tugs his jeans back over his hips. “M’sorry, baby, I have to-”
“Wait!” you yelp, tearing your underwear from your body. You almost trip over the fabric as you hop down from your bed. “Take these!”
You throw the panties across your room and Joel catches them against his chest, scrunching them into a ball. You sit back on your heels, totally naked in front of him, smirking at the thought of him crossing paths with your dad in the hallway and knowing the secret he holds in his jeans pocket. Knowing that he just fucked his best friend’s daughter, in her childhood bedroom.
His cheeks heat with shock. Your panties are dripping wet. He nods and tucks them into his back pocket and adjusts the crotch of his pants over his still hard cock. 
Suddenly, you hear the front door opening. 
Your parents are home. 
You gasp and fumble with your jeans, trying to put them on with shaky hands while you hear Joel step onto the first floor, just leaving the staircase as the door shuts behind your parents as they come in. 
“Hey, buddy,” your dad calls, and you hover at the top of the stairs. “What- whatcha doin’ with your shirt off?”
Joel stammers, scratching the back of his neck. Your mom stares at him, eyes raking up and down his hairy torso. You feel a hot pang of jealousy at her wandering eyes on the man you just fucked.
“She, uh,” he motions up to you, now stepping slowly down the stairs, “She spilled her drink down my shirt.” He reaches for the crumpled flannel, whipping it in his hands and throwing it over his shoulders.
Your mom tsks. “So clumsy,” she says, shaking her head. “Did you get it cleaned alright?”
Joel nods, jumping a little when you arrive at the bottom of the stairs by his side. He’s still buttoning the shirt. “Yeah, all cleaned up. Thank you, ma’am.”
You feel a surge of excitement shoot through your veins, feeling your wet leaking out onto your jeans and knowing what lives in Joel’s pocket. You sway back and forth, hands clasped behind your back, smiling innocently.
“Sweetie,” your mom calls over, “Why don’t you go walk Joel to his truck?”
“Y-yes, mom,” you stutter, and motion for Joel to walk ahead of you. 
“Have a good night,” he says and pats your dad on the back on his way out. 
You watch every one of his heavy footsteps down the hall and out of the house, slipping on your Crocs before you follow him out, closing the door behind you. 
The two of you linger outside of his truck for a moment. He looks over your shoulder, squinting in the Texas sun as he looks towards the house. You look at the gray in his beard, the curve of his nose and his salt and pepper hair. 
Part of you hopes he’ll ask to see you again, but he’s your dad’s best friend, it could never work. He kicks a small rock with the toe of his boot, arms folded. He leans against the truck and looks up at the sky. 
Your stomach flutters at the sight of him and the feeling of his sticky cum on your stomach, gradually absorbing into your skin. 
“Guess I’ll see you ‘round,” he says and straightens up. He purses his lips while he looks away, then at you. 
You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ear, “Um, yeah.”
“Then I’ll teach you a lesson ‘bout not payin’ attention while watchin’ a movie,” he says, and his voice is sultry and raspy. His fingers are around your chin, tilting your face up to him. “You’ve been a bad girl, lettin’ your dad’s buddy fuck you like a little slut.”
Your lips smush between his finger and thumb. “Yesh, Mr. Miller,” you push between your teeth.
“The hell’d I tell you? It’s Joel.”
You nod fervently. “Yesh, Jool.”
He releases you and opens the truck door, eyeing you constantly as he gets in. 
You pick at your nails nervously as you watch him start the truck, and then drive away. 
You lean against your parents’ Honda Civic and look up at the sky, closing your eyes and sighing. Your teeth come to bite your lower lip into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue. Your dad’s best friend. 
He promised he would teach you a lesson. You wonder what the lesson is.
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kodydrs · 6 months
Text
The Arrangement Baby - Gojo Satoru
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a/n: don’t shoot. I swear part 4 is coming. So take this as a token of my love. Idk why, but i loved writing for Gojo. He’s so bbygirl. might as well reblog / comment, and feel free to send in a random request / ask
this is set like, just before gojo goes to Shibuya, so no angst (yet lol)
warnings: gojo x fem!reader, husband!gojo x wife!reader, arranged marriage, established relationship, soft smut, mdni, fxm, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), pregnancy kink (maybe?), trying to get pregnant, they’re so in love your honour, kinda ooc gojo
ib: jasminn’s bot on Chai.
request: yes / no (but dedicated to @lvtilzs who has been here since day one)
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‘You don't want this and I know you don't. Women can never really hide their emotions well, can they?‘ He jokes. It immediately earned him a glare, to which he waved his hands in defence. ‘Hold on. It's for the good of our clans, isn't it? I think we should think of it that way. You don't gotta love me, but you love your family, right?‘
The two of you, being the next heads of your respective clans, had been forced into an arranged marriage. It was supposedly to 'help build bonds’.
You sigh, seated on your knees with your hands on your lap.
‘If it builds bonds with the clans, then I will marry you, Gojo Satoru. But I cannot promise I will be able to learn to love you.‘
‘Hmm, I can respect that, my dear. But remember, we are bound together now. We must find a way to make this work, for the sake of our people.’
‘And we will. With our clans joined in this marriage, the strength of our family's will work.’
‘Indeed, my love. But don't forget that there is more to a marriage than just strength. There is also passion and desire. And as the head of our families, it is our duty to ensure that those needs are met.‘
You don't say anything. You just hum and nod. You hadn't looked at your husband. You'd only been informed he was to be your husband a few days prior.
Satoru took a step closer, his olden aura intensifying as he did so.
‘I must confess, however, that I'm rather excited for this night. To consummate our union and begin our lives together.‘ His eyes met yours for the first time since you'd sat down.
'Mhm.' You hum again, 6 eyes staring at you. 'I hope it will be for the best.'
Satoru chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
‘It will be, my love. Together, we'll make this work.‘
You close your eyes, focusing on his touch. You reach for his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles.
Feeling the warmth of your touch, Satoru squeezed your hand gently.
‘We have our entire lives ahead of us, filled with shared experiences and growth. Remember that.‘ For the first time, a smile crosses your face and you feel a sense of warmth in his presence. ‘That's my girl,‘ he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your forehead.
You lean into his kiss, watching as he pulls back. ‘Satoru.‘
‘Yes, my love?‘ He asked, his voice soft and inviting.
‘Let's take this slow, ok?‘
Satoru nodded, understanding the request.
‘Of course, sweetheart. We'll take things at your pace.‘ His eyes held a promise of patience and care as he reassured you.
It had been almost 6 months since your marriage. You and Gojo were currently living together near the Highschool in order for him to be able to teach his students. You had a simple life where you stayed at home, going on a few missions for your clan here and there.
You were sitting in your living room, reading a book when the front door opened.
‘My dear, I'm home,‘ Satoru called out as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
‘I'm in the living room.' You called, placing your book down.
‘Alright, sweetheart,‘ he replied with a soft chuckle before walking into the living room. His eyes met yours as he approached, a warm smile on his face. ‘How was your day?‘
'Boring. Not much happened. There were no missions for me.'
‘Well, that's good news,‘ Satoru replied with a gentle smile. ‘You deserve a break from all that danger and chaos.‘ He walked over to sit beside you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours in a subtle show of affection.
You leaned against him, tracing his knuckles. It was a habit you'd picked up. There was just something mesmerising about your husband's hands.
'How was your day?'
‘It was... fine.' His eyes followed your hand on his, watching you trace the bones. 'I may have to go away for a little while though. Something has come up.'
'Oh... ok.' It wasn't that Satoru didn't go away often, but you couldn't deny the house felt empty when he wasn't around. 'Do you need me to do anything while you're away?'
‘No, sweetheart, don't worry about it.‘ he reassured you with a soft smile. ‘I'll be back before you know it.‘ He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. ‘Now, have you eaten?‘
You shake your head, leaning into the kiss.
‘Well, then,‘ Satoru chuckled softly, ‘Let's fix that. I'll make us something delicious.‘ He stood up from the couch, his strong presence filling the room as he moved towards the kitchen. You also stand, following after him.
‘What would you like?‘ Satoru asked as he pulled out a skillet from the kitchen drawer and began to heat it up on the stove top.
'I don't mind.' You reply, sitting upon the counter as you watch him get to work
‘Okay, consider it done then.‘ Satoru chuckled softly as pulled out some vegetables from the fridge and began to chop them up with quick, precise movements.
It wasn't long before the meal was ready. You thanked him for the meal and both sat at the table to eat.
'So, what's this mission for?'
‘Well, there's been a sudden increase in occult activity around the city,‘ He explained as he took a bite of his food. ‘It seems that some powerful spirits have been unleashed, and we need to find out who's behind it.‘
You nod, taking another mouthful of your food.
‘Will it be a hard mission?'
‘It might be,‘ Satoru admitted with a frown. ‘But don't worry, I'll make sure nothing happens to you.‘ He reached out and gently squeezed your hand reassuringly. You nodded, a hint of anxiety creeping up on you. After finishing their meal, Satoru cleared the dishes and began to clean up while you sat at the table, lost in thought. He could feel your tension but didn't want to push you further into worry just yet.
‘Hey,‘ Satoru said softly, coming up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders. ‘Don't think about that right now. Just enjoy this moment with me.‘ He leaned down to press a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck.
Satoru slowly pulled away, his hands remaining lightly on your shoulders. You hummed, holding his hands over your shoulders. ‘Satoru?‘
‘Yes, love?‘
‘Do you want to have a baby?‘
Silence filled the room, and Satoru froze, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn't expected that question, especially not now.
‘I...,‘
‘You don’t have to answer right now. It’s just an idea.’
‘No. No. I… I do.’ He said carefully.
‘Mhm.‘ A soft smile covered your face. ‘That way, our clans really would be connected. A child with blood from both clans.‘
Satoru couldn't help but return your smile, his eyes meeting yours. ‘Yes, that's true,‘ He agreed, his voice filled with warmth. ‘But I'd rather have a baby because you want to have one. Not just to further strengthen the bond of our clans.‘
Your smile grows and you turn to face him. ‘I want to have your baby, Satoru.‘
His heart skipped a beat as he stared into your eyes, feeling a surge of emotion swell up within him. He leaned in, his lips barely brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. ‘Thank you.‘
Your hands took his and brought them to his face, reciprocating his kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his feelings for you into the exchange. He pulled away, breathless and giddy.
‘I love you,‘ He whispered, his eyes filled with adoration.
Your eyes widen slightly. In your many months of marriage, neither of you have once said those 3 words. But it made your heart warm, and your husband was practically glowing.
‘I love you, too.‘
Satoru smiled wide, pulling you into another tender kiss.
‘I'm so glad you said that,‘ he murmured against your lips. He pulled away, still holding your hands in his. ‘We should head upstairs,‘
‘Mhm.‘ You agreed, taking his hand.
Together, the two of you made your way upstairs, their hands entwined like a lifeline. They shared a tender moment as they reached the top, exchanging loving glances before continuing down the hallway to their bedroom.
You'd had sex a few times since marriage, but something about this time felt different. It felt more meaningful
As they undressed, Satoru couldn't help but admire your naked body, his eyes tracing every inch of you. He loved you with all his heart and soul and wanted to make this experience together beautiful and eternal. You pulled him down, kissing him passionately with your chests pressed together. which made him moan softly, his body responding eagerly to your touch.
He wrapped his arms around you, deepening their connection as they continued to share their newfound love through passionate kisses and tender caresses.
‘You're so beautiful, Satoru.' You moaned, losing your hands in his white hair.
‘Thank you, love,‘ he whispered against your lips, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. He gently pushed you down onto the bed, following you down as his lips and hands explored every inch of your body.
Quiet whimpers filled the room, and you propped yourself onto your elbows, watching him travel around your skin. His eyes met yours, filled with love and desire as he continued his sensual exploration, his kisses trailing down your body while his hands roamed gently over your skin. His heart pounded in anticipation of the connection they were about to share once more.
You brought one hand to his head, stroking through his hair again. As he felt your hand in his hair, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently as he moaned against your skin. His other hand began to caress between your legs, teasingly rubbing against your sensitive folds. You moaned breathlessly, back arched.
‘Oh, Satoru,‘ you breathed, arching your back even further as he continued to please you. Your body trembled with anticipation as he moved to probe against your entrance. slowly pushed inside, filling you with his love and desire. 'Fuck. You're good to me.'
‘I am yours.‘ He whispered against your skin, their bodies moving together in a rhythm of love and need. His fingers dug into your hips, urging him deeper inside as they became lost in their passionate connection.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding on tightly like he'd run away if you didn't. Satoru held onto you just as tightly, his lips finding the sensitive skin behind your ear as he continued to thrust into you. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, creating a symphony of moans and gasps that filled the room.
'Please, Satoru.' You whispered, voice breaking. 'Please let me have your baby?
Hearing your plea, Satoru's heart swelled with love and desire. He pulled out of you slightly before pushing back in harder, claiming you completely once more. ‘Our baby,‘ he corrected softly against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. You nodded rapidly, hiding your face in his neck as you reached your high, a symphony of moans filling his ears.
He held you close, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of passion. He felt you shudder beneath him, your walls clenching tightly around him. Your body rocked back and forth, following in time with your husband's thrusts.
‘I'm here,‘ Satoru whispered, feeling his own climax building within him. He could feel the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot, teasing and taunting you both.
'I-I can feel you.' You whimpered, tears wetting your eyes. His breath hitched as he felt you tremble under him.
‘Our baby will be so loved,‘ he whispered against your skin before giving one final, powerful thrust that sent them both over the edge.
A flurry of moans filled the house, both of you holding each other like you're going to disappear.
Gasping for breath, Satoru held onto you tightly as his seed filled you completely. Their bodies trembled together, still joined in intimacy even as their lungs tried to catch their breath.
You looked at him, panting deeply, but still able to plant a gentle kiss to his cheek.
'Our baby will be the strongest. Just like their daddy.’
Satoru returned the kiss softly, his eyes filled with love for you. He leaned in closer, nuzzling your neck as he held you close.
‘I love you,‘ he whispered against your skin, his heart racing from their passionate lovemaking.
You laughed quietly, rubbing his shoulders and back. 'Don't say it too much, Satoru. It'll lose its meaning.’
He smiled at your teasing remark, feeling the warmth spread through him. He continued to hold onto you, savouring the closeness they shared after their intense lovemaking session.
‘I couldn't help myself,‘ he said softly, his eyes still locked on yours. Hands held his face, caressing his skin.
'I love you too, Satoru Gojo.'
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bluehoodiewoozi · 7 months
Text
Neverending
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Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader
Genre: fluff with little to no plot
Words: 14k
Warnings: crying with references to an argument. a single reference to porn. hatred of philosophy. simp woozi who suffers from anxious perfectionism and self-deprecating thoughts.
[College/University AU] With the help of his friends' advice, Jihoon goes on a quest to become the best boyfriend he can be.
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Note: I wrote this, had a mental break-down, then finished this, and now I'm sharing it with you in the hopes that it'll save you from a mental break-down of your own or perhaps it'll comfort you in some way. Hang in there, y'all!
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It was no secret that Jihoon had little to no experience with romance. His friends often joked that his experience was limited to exactly seven rom-coms and a steamy romance novel from his mother’s bookshelf that he once read in a state of absolute boredom when he was grounded. 
And Jihoon was fine with that. He didn’t complain when he made it through middle school without as much as a peck from a girl (or anyone other than Soonyoung, really – he wasn’t picky). He didn’t as much as blink when it was high school graduation day and he was still as single as that one famous whale in the ocean. He merely shrugged when his friends pitied his forever-single state while he was doing his undergraduate degree. 
It wasn’t until he started working on his master’s degree that he began to feel left out. Maybe a little over 20 years of being single was just his limit, or maybe it was the constant pitying stares of his friends, or perhaps it was his mother’s not-so-subtle hints of wanting grandkids while she could still run with them – either way, Jihoon finally realised that he was lonely even with over ten friends around him.
And maybe it was this realisation that made him view the people around him differently. All of a sudden, couples seemed to surround him wherever he went. The pair of girls he always saw chatting at the café he worked at? Suddenly he was a witness to the kisses they shared in the corner seat. The guy living across the hall from him in the dormitory? Giggling and kicking his feet after his girlfriend fixed his hair as they left for their 8 am class. 
Heck, even Vernon was in a relationship, buying two to-go cups of chai tea from the café every Wednesday, a love-sick smile on his face, before heading to the park to share them with a woman the rest of their friend group could only theorise the identity of. 
If Vernon out of all people could find someone, why couldn’t he?
Then, as if the universe had heard the silent cries of Jihoon’s heart, he met you. 
Assigned to the same semester-long group project, he quickly realised that you were the only person other than him to actually do the work. It started with looks of exasperation shared across the library table the six of you gathered at, and then the two of you had no choice but to start talking. 
Talking – right, that was the first real step. At first about schoolwork – about the research questions of your project, about other courses, about complaints about your professors. Then, barely a week into knowing him, you broke the thin ice.
He could still vividly remember the way you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket just as he was about to walk away after a meeting. You smiled at him – a real smile rather than the tired polite one he had grown so accustomed to – and asked, “So, what kind of movies do you like?”
As soon as he managed to utter the words “I guess… superhero movies?” out of his mouth, you were once again tugging at his sleeve, this time dragging him in the direction of a nearby cinema. You ended up only allowing him to pay for the popcorn (and he had to beg for even that much) because it seemed you were dead-set on treating him like a prince.
That was your first date: after classes, in the darkness of the cinema, with Spiderman swinging by on the giant screen. He barely had any time to pay attention to the plot, too busy relishing in your presence and the sound of your laughter at the corny jokes. And then, as MJ and Peter Parker shared a kiss on the screen, he felt something warm on his hand – your fingers curled around his own and he couldn’t help but give them a squeeze back, his ears as red as Spiderman’s suit. 
The impromptu date was followed by another, then another, and another, until you finally had enough and pulled him to the side after class.
“Do you like me?” you asked him, a little frustrated with how slow things were going and with how awkward he still seemed.
His ears flushed red again. “Of… of course I do.” (He preferred to imagine his voice hadn’t cracked in the middle of the sentence.)
Your scowl remained. “Then be my boyfriend.”
When he nodded, you smiled and took his hand again – he told himself he’d never let yours go. 
But unfortunately, his lack of romantic experience made it difficult to gracefully slip into the role of your boyfriend. He was almost jealous of the way the role of the girlfriend came so easily to you, taking his hand so easily every day, when he spent hours at night contemplating whether he should kiss your forehead or not when you’d part ways on campus the next day. 
On one of those nights, he decided you deserved better. You deserved a better him. 
So, he grabbed his phone and texted the one friend he trusted with his life. 
[i need advice.]
[how can i be a better boyfriend?]
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[YJH: that’s easy! carry her bag for her! girls love that!]
When Jihoon met you on your way to a 12 pm class, he hesitated to follow Jeonghan’s advice. Countless what-ifs floated in his head: what if you thought that it was rude, what if you wanted to carry your own things, what if you tried to carry his bag instead… Did boyfriends outside of fanfiction and romantic movies even carry their girlfriends’ things for them?
Doubts hurried out of his mind soon enough, making way for worry when he saw you adjust the tote bag on your shoulder with a grimace. He inwardly panicked at the sight of your discomfort. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” you wondered as if completely oblivious. 
“Is your bag heavy?” His brows furrowed. Before you could take another step, he slipped the bag off your shoulder and onto his own. Your grimace made sense all of a sudden. His frown deepened, but not because of your confused stare. “What do you have in here? An entire drum set?”
You laughed. “No, just my laptop and some snacks.”
Even as he bounced on his spot to test the weight, his frown remained. He glared at the bag. “Your laptop’s not that heavy.”
Your face scrunched up. “My laptop kind of broke yesterday, so I had to revive the old, heavy one.”
Jihoon’s frown disappeared. He stared up at you in surprise, and then, unable to stop himself, he offered, “Do you want me to take a look at it? Maybe I can fix it.”
“Nah,” you shrugged, “I’ll just take it to get it fixed tomorrow. My friend recommended this shop–”
“Don’t be silly,” he scolded you and continued the journey to class. “You know that the shop will take three weeks to even look at your laptop and then another three to order the necessary parts and then another five to actually fix it. You might graduate before they get it fixed.”
“Yeah?” you laughed, following after him, your hand naturally coming to rest around his own. “And you’re faster?”
“Faster, more reliable, cheaper,” he counted on his fingers before offering you a cheeky grin. When you didn’t seem too convinced, he sighed and added, “You can ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you I can do this. I’ve done this before. I fixed Junhui’s laptop just a few weeks ago; got a 5-star review.”
At that, you sighed. In the few weeks of being his girlfriend, you had learnt that he was as stubborn as he was kind. In fact, he was even more stubborn when he was being kind: you had been a first-hand witness to Jihoon physically pinning Kim Mingyu to the ground to put a bandage on a fresh cut on his cheek, all the while cursing the friend under his breath for not being more careful. You shuddered at what Jihoon might do if you continued to refuse his laptop-fixing offer.
You finally sighed again and nodded. “Should I bring it over to your place?”
“Yeah,” he agreed easily, his lips curling into a victorious smile, “I’m free this weekend so I can probably get it done before finals.”
You grinned at the thought. “If you manage to do that, I will literally marry you. You’re the best.”
He could only pray you wouldn’t mention the way his ears undoubtedly turned red again as he adjusted your bag on his shoulder and led you to your lecture room.
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[YJH: help her do research for her essay] 
Jihoon let out a soft huff as he placed your bag on a seat at the library before gently pulling you to sit in the seat next to it. He let himself fall into the chair across from yours. 
“Thank you!” your chipper voice was almost enough to rid him of the muscle pain your pain caused. 
He offered a smile and a blink so slow you began to wonder if he took you for a cat. “You’re welcome.”
Then, just like a cat himself, he just sat and watched you set up on the desk. His eyes sharply followed every movement you made, sometimes lingering here or there if something particular caught his eye (your oddly fluffy pink pen was one of those particular things). “So, what are you going to be working on?”
You groaned audibly. “Research for this mythology class I’m taking. We’re supposed to make a big wiki as a class effort. Each of us got a different topic to write about. But, like, it’s more of an actual small research paper: citations, references, quotes…” You pouted. “If you weren’t here, I’d be crying by now.”
He didn’t like the sound of that at all – the crying part, because he actually quite enjoyed mythology. Though he hesitated just a little before saying it, he offered, “If you need a hug, just tell me.”
“You’re so cute.” You reached over the table to give him an affectionate pat on his head, effectively both praising him and fixing his windswept mess of hair. “Have you gotten around to fixing my laptop yet?”
Relaxing in his chair, he began, “I’m waiting for a part, but it’s almost fixed otherwise.”
You blinked. “What part?”
“A battery.”
“I don’t think it was a battery issue, though,” you mumbled while avoiding his eyes, not wanting to insult his competence. After all, you were pretty sure the issue was with the graphics – why else would your laptop screen flicker like a rogue disco ball?
As if reading your mind, he chuckled and pulled out his phone to check the package tracking website. “I almost fixed the main issue already, but I noticed that the battery was acting weird, so I figured I might as well fix that too.”
When he looked up from his phone again, you were staring at him with stars in his eyes. His heart thumped a little louder at the sight. “... What?”
You shrugged and turned back to your work. “Nothing.”
He pursed his lips at that and put his phone away again. In his head, he went over all the assignments he had to finish for the following week. Deciding there weren’t any that took priority (a bold lie to himself), he cleared his throat. “So, what do you have to research?”
“Greek mythology.”
“But…” He tilted his head to the side in thought – maybe you wouldn’t want his help? There he went again, he realised: hesitating. He frowned and shook his head clear before smiling at you again. “What exactly?”
“Some mythological creatures. I thought that would be more fun than the usual famous characters.”
“Creatures like… harpies and sirens?”
“Yep.” 
Realising you were already deep in the world of research, he decided to not bother you with any further questions. Instead, he slowly and as quietly as he could (but still louder than he would’ve liked) slid his chair back and headed further into the library. 
“Mythological creatures,” he mumbled to himself as he wandered between the seemingly endless shelves. Before long, he found what he was looking for. He returned to your table barely ten minutes later, placing a heap of books on it before slumping back into his chair with a deep sigh. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him open the first book and flip through the pages like a man on a quest. You smiled at the sight before focusing back on your work. Even so, you heard the scribble of his pencil and the familiar sound of a sticky note getting ripped out of its block. 
Just as you stopped paying attention to him, you felt a book being pushed towards you. When you looked away from your laptop, you found the book you had just seen him read, now laid open on your side of the table, turned to face you. 
Light pink sticky notes between the closed pages and a few on the open ones: the book invited you to read. The notes carried Jihoon’s neat handwriting, retelling the contents of the page. Better yet: these were notes about mythological creatures described in the book: 
‘Chimera. pg 6: Daughter of Typhon and Echidna. pg 18: lion's body and head, snake for a tail, breathes fire?’
When you glanced back at him, smiling brightly, he was already nose-deep in a different book, paying you no attention.
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[Y.JH.: watch a porno together 😉]
Jihoon stared at his friend’s message for a total of five minutes. He then decided that he should stop taking advice from Jeonghan. 
He turned to the group chat for help instead.
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“You’re going to drive yourself insane before finals even start,” he warned you with a fond smile as you flipped through your worksheets, thoroughly checking each and every one to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.
You offered him a tired glare and turned back to your task. “I’m already halfway there, might as well commit.”
[X.MH.: take her on a walk. enjoy the weather.]
Minghao’s suggestion rang in his head as he watched you. After all, he himself often went on ridiculously long walks in the park when he ran into a metaphorical wall with his work and studies, as did many of his friends. Perhaps it would help you too: romance and relaxation in one – a win on two fronts.
“Do you—” He hesitated. Why did he always hesitate? Even he himself was starting to get annoyed by it. He shook his head to clear his mind and fix his hair before trying again, “Do you want to go on a walk?”
You froze. “A walk?”
He hummed. “To clear your mind. Some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not.”
You mulled it over in your head: assignments versus your adorable boyfriend?
“Fine,” you finally huffed, feigning annoyance, “but I’m going to pet every dog I see and you can’t stop me.”
He laughed at the idea, already imagining it in his head, and got up from the floor before extending a hand to help you up as well. “You’d have to try to stop me first. I’m known for attracting random dogs.”
You took his hand and stretched. “I wonder why.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and handed you your jacket before shrugging on his own. He tried not to think about how your jackets matched – almost like a couple’s item.
Soon, the two of you were walking side by side in the park, laughing at everything and nothing and Seokmin’s attempt to fit in a kids’ swing that you saw in the passing. 
As always, your hand found Jihoon’s before he could find the courage to seek your affection. Fingers squeezing together, his skin blissfully on fire against yours – he wondered why he never dared to make the first move and reach for your hand. But if he wasn’t the one to initiate, he at least had an excuse to not let you go.
“How come I’m your first girlfriend?” you wondered, searching his face for answers.
He shrugged. “You just are.”
“You really never had anyone else before?” He shook his head. “Not even a fling?” Another shake of his head. “A hook-up?” He blushed and shook his head harder. You frowned in confusion. “How? You’re, like, perfect. Other girls must have swarmed around you like bees around honey.”
“Don’t be silly,” he denied in a hushed voice, avoiding your eyes so he could act like his ears weren’t redder than the late autumn leaves. 
“I know I wanted you to be mine the moment I saw you,” you mumbled with a pout, offended on his behalf. “So, why were you single all this time then?”
Jihoon shrugged once again, his lips in a tight line of awkwardness. “I just wasn’t interested, I guess. Too busy studying.”
“Then,” you hummed in thought before turning to him again, this time eyes shining with mischief, “have you ever kissed anyone before?”
He paled. “I– Uh– Technically…”
“Technically?” you pressed eagerly.
He cleared his throat. “Technically I’ve been kissed by one person.”
“Technically?!” You were scandalised, baffled, puzzled, curious beyond belief. He could only laugh hopelessly as you stopped him and grabbed him by the shoulders to stare at him, your mouth agape. “Who was it? Was she pretty?”
“Pretty?” He grimaced. It was too late to lie now – might as well commit to his honesty streak. “In his own way, I suppose–”
“HIS?!” Your jaw dropped even more as he avoided your eyes. 
“Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything–”
“No, I need the truth,” you laughed, almost maniacal with both joy and curiosity. You gripped his shoulders, promising to not let him go until you got the answers. “Who was it? Jihoon, you have to tell me.”
He sighed deeply. His head tilted back so he could stare towards the sky, calling for an extraterrestrial life-form to abduct him. He had been doing so great so far… Why did he have to be damn honest with you?
After thirty seconds, he accepted that the aliens hadn’t found his calls appealing enough. He sighed and slumped before you, head lolling forward as he confessed, “Do you know Kwon Soonyoung?”
You burst into laughter, jumping away from him to bounce in joy (Jihoon wondered if maybe the impending sense of finals’ season doom was too much for you) as you repeated, “Kwon Soonyoung? The tiger guy?”
“Of course that’s what you know him for,” he mumbled under his breath, hand reaching up to rub at his eyes so he could avoid eye contact a little longer. “Just so you know, it was nothing serious: he just decided to kiss me on the playground in, like, 6th grade one day.” He sighed deeply at the memory, still unsure how he felt about it after all these years.
But you were too busy giggling to acknowledge his dismay. “On the lips?”
He grimaced. “On the lips.”
“Full on?”
“Full on,” he sighed.
Before he could scold you to not tell anyone else (not that it mattered anyway: Soonyoung had taken it upon himself to share the tale with every person he met anyway), you were in front of him again, still smiling brightly. His scowl melted into a gentle smile at the sight – he sucked at being mad at you.
“Like this?” You leaned forward, placed your hands on his cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss of your own. 
All of a sudden, Jihoon swore he was floating. He wrapped his arms around your waist to anchor himself as he leaned further into you, unwilling to part from your lips. Even as you attempted to pull away, he chased after your lips, unsatisfied until you melted back into the kiss. 
When he finally ran out of air, you began giggling, a shy glow on your cheeks as you looked at his still-closed eyes. “So?”
“What?” he wondered, slow to open his eyes, and even when he finally did, his eyelids drooped like he was still waking up from the sweetest of dreams. 
“Was the kiss historically accurate?” you joked, leaning closer to brush your nose against his.
He was unable to even laugh. Only a dopey smile appeared on his face as he whispered, “No, it was so much better.”
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[H.JS.: surprise her with flowers]
[i dont know what kind of flowers she likes tho??]
[W.JH.: unless she’s allergic, i dont think it matters]
Despite still being unsure whether the group chat was helpful or just plain useless, Jihoon followed their advice like it was the law. 
Flowers? He could find flowers. Easy. They’re sold almost everywhere. Surely, he could figure out something as simple and universal as flowers. 
Wrong.
The moment he stepped into the flower store, he felt like a five-year-old left unattended in a new city. He hadn’t even realised there were so many options. He gulped. 
“Can I help you?” an oddly familiar voice called out to him and he whipped his head around in search of the speaker. He found Wonwoo staring back at him, his eyes shining with mischief upon recognising his new customer.
Jihoon grimaced. “I– Nevermind.” 
But when he tried to leave, Wonwoo grabbed him by the hood of his white sweatshirt and dragged him further into the store. “Are you going to buy your girlfriend flowers? Like Joshua suggested?”
“I– No– Why would I–” Jihoon’s resolve broke under Wonwoo’s knowing glare. He lowered his gaze to the floor and sheepishly nodded. 
Wonwoo let out a small sound of victory before asking, “So, what kind of flowers do you want to get her?”
“That’s the thing,” Jihoon sighed deeply, “I have no clue what to get.”
His florist friend hummed in understanding. “Is she more of a daisy or a rose girl?”
Jihoon offered him a confused look. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve only dated her for a month.”
“Roses may be a bit much then,” Wonwoo concluded with a squint of his eyes before heading somewhere in the store, once again grabbing Jihoon by the hood and dragging him along. 
Jihoon could only whine quietly in protest. “Can you stop doing that?”
“No.” The answer was plain, clear, and left no room for argument. “I think tulips are the way to go.”
Jihoon had no further complaints as Wonwoo began piling flowers into his arms. Once he was satisfied, he led Jihoon to the counter – by the hood, once again, as if he was a cat mom carrying her kitten – and began arranging them into a bouquet. 
“Do you want me to tie a bow for them?” he asked but Jihoon gave him no answer.  When he looked up again, his love-sick friend was staring at the newly-complete bouquet in awe.  Wonwoo smiled and handed him the flowers. “There. Do you think she’ll like them?”
“I– How did you know… ?”
Wonwoo’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Was I right?”
Jihoon could only nod before fishing his wallet out. “I seriously owe you one. You’re good at this.”
On the way to your dorm, he couldn’t stop staring at the bouquet. The tulips were exactly the colours he associated with you, as if Wonwoo had read his mind and translated it into flowers. Now he could only adjust them a little and pray you’d like them as much as he did.
A deep breath. A soft knock on your door. 
Your roommate opened the door, her eyes lighting up with excitement upon recognising him and noticing the flowers in his arms. She practically dragged him inside while calling out to you, “(Y/n), your Prince Charming arrived!”
Before he could say anything, she patted his shoulder and leaned over to whisper “She’ll love them” before all but bouncing out the front door, offering him one last cheeky wink before she left. 
“Jihoon?” he then heard you call out from a distance. “Is that you?”
He called back a confirmation before following your voice to your room. Just as he often did, he found you seated on your bed, your (newly fixed) laptop in front of you, surrounded by endless pages of homework and research. He smiled at the familiar sight.
“Are you busy studying again?” he wondered, his voice impossibly soft just like his heart was for you. “Should I come back later?”
Without looking up, you shook your head. “No, no, please stay. I just have to finish this table and then–” Your gaze lifted to meet his by habit, at which point your jaw dropped. Soon, a smile forced itself onto your face. “Jihoon!”
He feigned ignorance, his lips quirking. “Why?”
“Did you–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, unable to find the words as tears of joy gathered in the corners of your eyes. Pursing your lips to will yourself to not cry, you got up from the bed and walked over to hug him. You held him tight while he just laughed fondly. 
“Why?” he asked again, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek. 
You pouted. “You got me flowers?”
When you stepped back, he lifted up the bouquet and asked, “What? This?” You nodded and he laughed again, so completely endeared by your reaction. “Do you like them that much?”
“I love them,” you said and took the flowers from his hands, already rushing to the kitchen to fill a vase with flowers. Despite not leaving your room, he could hear you mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re really going to make me cry at this rate.”
Upon returning with a vase full of water and beautiful flowers, you placed it on your desk by the window. The afternoon light hit them just right and it made you want to cry even more. 
You turned to him again. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers like this before. They’re so pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you,” he spoke before his mental filter could catch it. He bit down on his tongue the moment he closed his mouth, unable to believe he let the words slip without even thinking about them. 
To his relief, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the carelessly spoken compliment made you glow even more. You laughed in joy and pulled him to sit with you on the bed. He could barely find his balance on the soft mattress before your lips were on his. 
He decided he’d gift you flowers more often if this was the thanks he earned.
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On a sleepless night, Jihoon came to an embarrassing realisation: he had never once initiated a kiss with you. In fact, when it came to physical affection, he hadn’t initiated anything. 
The realisation was greatly aided by Boo Seungkwan’s 2 am reply to another one of Jihoon’s cries for help. 
[B.SK.: kiss her, you idiot!]
“Kiss her?” Jihoon re-read the message the next day before grimacing in anxiety. He couldn’t even hold your hand without blushing – how was he supposed to initiate a whole kiss? Knowing him, he’d probably accidentally end up kissing your nose or, even worse, ear. The thought made him want to cry so he curled up on a random beanbag on campus, hugging his backpack to his chest, and glared at the message Seungkwan had sent him. 
“Who made my Jihoon upset?” your voice carried through the hallway. He looked up to find you walking towards him, a bright smile on your face. Catching his gaze, you smiled brighter before adding to your joke, “Should I go beat someone up? Who was it? Mingyu? Soonyoung?”
“Seungkwan,” he mumbled against the fabric of his bag as you approached him and pressed a kiss to his temple. He could practically feel his ears betraying him and squeezed his eyes shut to will the blush to leave. 
Your hand found his hair, stroking it gently. “Seungkwan? The guy who hosts almost every campus event?” He nodded solemnly and you scoffed. “I can take Seungkwan. He should be afraid of me.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, opening his eyes to glance up at you. He didn’t dare to move with the way you were still stroking his dark hair, looking at him so fondly. What if you were startled by his movement and never played with his hair again? No, he couldn’t risk it. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the feeling. 
Without even realising it, he leaned into your embrace like a pet looking for warmth. Soon, his head rested against your chest, your fingers still in his hair while his own curled into the fabric of your blouse. He wished this moment lasted forever and then some more. 
“So, what did Seungkwan do that you’re like this?” you wondered and he felt the rumble of your voice. He suddenly found he liked it even better this way. 
With a small smile on his face, he whispered, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” you wondered. “He must’ve done something.”
“He’s just annoying.” If it hadn’t been for your questions, Jihoon would’ve fallen asleep right there, pressed against you like a tired child. But instead, he came to an annoying realisation. “Do you not have a jacket today?”
“Nope,” he heard you reply.
He hissed at that, gently slapping your side as punishment for crimes against yourself. “It’s cold outside.”
“I run hot,” you made an excuse.
He scoffed. “You whined you were cold the last time you came to my dorm, even though it’s only, like, two degrees colder there than yours.”
You stayed silent at that. He basked in your warmth for a little longer before sitting back up straight and glaring at you. He then fidgeted with the sleeves of your blouse for a moment before scoffing and standing up to pull off his black hoodie. Unceremoniously, he shoved it to you, paying no mind to the puzzled look on your face.
“Put it on,” he finally told you when you made no move to read his mind. “I won’t baby you if you get sick.”
“I won’t get sick–” you began to protest only for him to roll his eyes, grab the hoodie, and pull it over your head himself. 
His hands gently guided your own through the sleeves before reaching down to pull the rest of the hoodie down as much as he could. (He made a mental note to invest in a longer hoodie for next time.) As a final touch, he reached up to pull the hood over your head, tying the strings into a neat bow below your chin once he had pulled the fabric around your head – tight enough to make you look just a little bit goofy. 
Surprised by his actions, you were frozen in place in front of him. With your cheeks squished by the fabric, you looked just so damn adorable. Jihoon didn’t even think before leaning closer and pressing his lips against your slightly pouted ones. 
He pulled away, nodded and smiled – satisfied with his handiwork. The realisation of his actions wouldn’t hit him for another hour.
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[W.JH.: i heard her class is having a big seminar this wednesday. maybe you should cheer for her?]
[how would i do that…?]
Jihoon never received a reply to his question. Odd, and incredibly annoying. But he guessed it was only fair: his friends couldn’t give him all the answers. Some things he’d have to figure out himself. 
Just as he was contemplating on what to do, his phone buzzed. Hoping for a late reply from his friends, he immediately reached for his phone. To his surprise, it was a message from you instead:
[Y/N: if u never hear from me again, assume i had a heart attack in front of the classroom]
[Y/N: god, i hate seminars so much]
Jihoon paused. Is this what Junhui had meant? He took a deep breath and typed a reply.
[where are you? i’ll come to you.]
He was halfway out of the building by the time you answered.
[Y/N: linguistics building, seminar 321]
Despite never having been to the linguistics’ building before and having close to zero clue where he would even find this room, he ran to where you said you’d be. His lungs were burning from lack of air by the time he got to you and yet his heart ached even more than they did: all it took was one look at your shaky hands as you paced back and forth outside of the seminar room. 
“Are you… Are you okay?” he asked through his laboured breaths once he reached you, his hand immediately reaching for yours to ease the shaking. 
You sighed in relief at the sight of him. “Jihoon…”
“I’m here,” he whispered with an encouraging smile before letting you burrow into his embrace. On most days, he would have much rather dug a hole and crawled in there than let anyone show him this kind of affection in public. But he was willing to make an exception for you.
Then he spotted the familiar baffled face of Soonyoung from the corner of his eyes and cringed: he would never live this down.
“I’m so nervous about my presentation,” you whispered into his jacket and all of his attention was back on you as if by magic. 
He scoffed out a laugh, unable to believe your words. “Are you kidding? You’ll be great.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen you give presentations before,” he reminded you with a gentle pat on your head. “You did great the last time, I doubt this time will be different.”
You wanted to cry at the memory, completely unable to see it the way he did. “I stuttered the entire time and mixed up the slides.”
“Yeah, but it was still fine.”
“It was so embarrassing.”
“It was endearing,” he argued immediately. “Besides, you laughed it off and you still got the maximum grade. Sometimes mistakes happen, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be the end of the world.”
You leaned out of his embrace to chuckle hopelessly. “I can’t decide if you’re really good or really bad at giving motivational speeches.”
“But do you feel better?” You nodded and he grinned brightly. “Then that’s all you need. Now go on in and show them what they’re missing in— What class is this?”
“Environmental Anthropology,” you answered with a sigh and he grimaced: it sounded far from appealing and he didn’t even dare ask if it was an elective or a mandatory subject.
Deciding to just go with it, he forced on a smile (his eyebrows still high on his forehead as half of his brain tried to figure out what that course even dealt with) and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Go get them, tiger.”
You laughed at his expression and nodded, feeling a little better already. You turned to head into class, but turned on your heel at the last moment, catching his eyes. He raised a single brow in question and you asked, “Can we go out to eat after this?”
He frowned, eyes saddening. “I wish I could. I have work in an hour. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
However, he could never stand the look of disappointment that grazed your face every once in a while. And when it made an appearance once again, he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. “But,” he started and you seemed to lighten up already, “you could come to the café and hang out with me there. My treat,” he promised before pointing an accusatory finger at you, “but only if you ace that presentation.”
“I… I can do that,” you nodded, more to convince yourself than him. “Yeah. I can definitely do that.”
Jihoon spent the next two hours panicking on your behalf. 
Even as he took orders and made cup after cup after cup of coffee, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t help but feel like he could’ve done more to boost your confidence. Hell, who wants to hear they were ‘endearing’ during a presentation they felt like they messed up on? 
When the third hour of waiting began, he was half-sure you wouldn’t come to the café. Perhaps you had failed miserably or maybe you really did have a heart attack in front of the classroom. Jihoon was on the verge of spiralling.
“Okay, you’re going to burn your hand at this rate,” Seokmin scolded before ushering him away from the espresso machine. “Just man the register. I’ll deal with the coffee. God, what’s up with you today?”
Jihoon let out a soft whine of protest but followed the orders, waddling over to the register. It was a slow day and he was still messing up – what were you doing to him?
“So?” Seokmin asked again after delivering a customer’s flat white. 
“What?” Jihoon was barely even paying attention to the fact that he was being spoken to. His eyes were constantly stuck on the door. 
Any moment now. Any moment you’d walk in, a smile on your face, telling him you passed. Any moment.
Seokmin raised a brow. “What’s bothering you? Seriously, you’re not usually this aloof. Why are you staring at the door?”
“(Y/n)” was all Jihoon managed to mumble.
But it was enough for his friend. Seokmin laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
“What if she isn’t?” Jihoon whispered, still stuck in a dazed mix of anxiety and hope. “What if I messed up?”
Before Seokmin could even begin to comfort him, Jihoon felt like he could breathe again. There you were, practically running towards the café in your rush to get to him. He didn’t even realise he was leaning further and further towards the door, leaning against the countertop under Seokmin’s amused eyes. 
“Jihoon!” you called out once you made it to the café, dashing up the counter to pull his face to yours and press your lips against his. After pulling away again, you smiled brightly. “Guess what?”
He forgot all the vocabulary he had acquired over his life. Your name was the closest thing to a word in there. He was just glad to see you again.
You rolled your eyes at his silence but still laughed. “Jihoon, I told you to guess.”
He cleared his throat and prayed his ears weren’t too red before he found his voice. “You passed?”
“I passed,” you confirmed with an excited fist pump in the air, “and the professor said I had the best presentation in the whole course.”
“Whoa, go, girl!” Seokmin cheered, bumping his fist against yours in celebration.
Jihoon matched your bright smiles and told you, “I knew you could do it. Come on, pick what you want to eat. My treat.”
As you excitedly went to check out the cake options, Seokmin stared at him in awe. Jihoon shrugged. “What?”
“How come you never treat me?” his friend sounded almost offended.
“You never asked.”
Seokmin frowned and turned to you. “Did you ask him to treat you?”
“Nope.”
He turned to glare at Jihoon again. “Favouritism. Clear favouritism. I’ll remember this.”
“She’s my girlfriend,” Jihoon argued with a puzzled frown of his own.
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[W.JH.: tie her shoelaces]
Walks in the park or even just around the campus became a routine for the two of you very quickly. More often than not, your shared study sessions in the library would lead to a shared knowing look, standing up in silence, and heading out the door for a break. Always hand-in-hand, like puzzle pieces.
The weather was windier than usual that day, blowing dead leaves and hats around the park grounds. Who knows how long it would be before snow would join the items flying in the wind – the temperature of the air certainly suggested it would happen soon. 
Jihoon barely managed to catch your scarf before it fell victim to the wind. 
“Maybe not the best day for a walk,” he concluded with a sheepish laugh while wrapping the scarf around your neck a little tighter than before, making sure it wouldn’t fly again. 
You laughed along. “Yeah, maybe we should’ve gone to the café instead.”
He sighed deeply – as a joke – before narrowing his eyes at you. “Just say you’re dating me for café discounts. Admit it.”
“Well,” you hummed, “your staff discounts are definitely a bonus.”
He chuckled and nudged your side. “Do you want to go to the café then? Maybe some cocoa could warm you up.”
“But some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not,” you repeated his own words back to him with a mischievous smile.
“Is that–?” His jaw dropped. “How do you even remember that?”
“It was a very memorable quote by my favourite author,” you joked and pinched his cheek before grabbing his hand to lead him to the café.
You barely made it two steps before he was tugging you to a stop, his gaze lowered. You blinked. “Did something happen?” 
He didn’t reply. A message from Junhui flashed in his mind. Was he allowed to follow his advice like that? And if so, what was the best way to go about it? Crouching down? Leading you to a bench and making you lift your foot? Fully kneeling in front of you like the simp he was? 
Ears burning under your questioning stare, he finally leaned down onto one knee, his fingers reaching for your shoelaces. 
Your heart skipped a beat as realisation hit. 
With what you could only assume was practised grace (because who knows how many times he had repeated this exact gesture for his friends – Soonyoung alone must have accounted for at least twenty), he gently pulled your foot closer to himself and gently double-knotted the laces. He decided to re-do the other shoe as well if he was already on task. 
Once both shoes were undoubtedly tied and unable to come undone without permission again, he hummed in approval and stood back up, brushing the dirt off his knee before his gaze lifted to meet yours. He offered a sheepish smile at the dazed look on your face. 
“Why?” he laughed.
“You’re seriously–” you began but never finished, reaching for his hand instead. 
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[K.MG.: give her a nickname]
Jihoon wasn’t very fond of nicknames. He wasn’t like Jeonghan who could come up with a new dumb nickname for every person he met or like Soonyoung who could react to any nickname thrown his way. Jihoon was just Jihoon and his friends were just his friends – no nicknames needed.
So, when he read Mingyu’s message, he froze. A nickname for his girlfriend? It felt like such an enormous task.
Stuck in an endless loop of processing even weeks after, Jihoon still couldn’t come up with a nickname that felt like you. Nothing sounded quite as pretty or as melodious as your name. Nothing came even close in his mind. When he thought of you, it was always just (Y/n). 
And it wasn’t like you had given him a nickname either. He would’ve noticed if you had – he noticed everything you did. 
If anyone saw into his brain, they would’ve seen a suspicious number of facts and quirks of yours. They would’ve thought he was a spy trying to steal your identity. But he was nothing of the sort. The only thing he aimed to steal was your heart (and maybe a kiss, or two, or two hundred).
Frankly, Vernon was sick of the sound of Jihoon’s pen rolling back and forth, struggling between gravity and Jihoon’s strength, on the slanted desk of their shared room. If having to contemplate cheesy pet names with a distraught Jihoon was the answer, Vernon was willing to sacrifice a bit of his sanity for a different background audio. 
“Maybe see if a pet name would work,” he suggested upon seeing his misery. 
Jihoon blinked. “Pet name? Like Fluffy?”
“No, like–” Vernon’s brows furrowed. “Dude, are you okay? Should I call a doctor?”
Jihoon only groaned and slumped over his desk, fully resting his cheek against it now. 
“I meant nicknames like babe and sweetheart and the sort,” his roommate explained, brows still set in a concerned frown. “Why would you call her Fluffy?”
“At this rate, I might as well.”
Vernon was scandalised. “Call her Fluffy?!”
Jihoon sat up straight to frown at Vernon. “No, see if I find a pet name I like for her. What is wrong with you?”
“You started it!”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So, what do you have to offer?”
“Let’s start with the basics,” Vernon suggested, leaning back on his bed happily now that the pen was no longer obnoxiously rolling. “Babe?”
“Gross.”
“Baby?” 
“Even worse.”
“Sweetheart.”
Jihoon hesitated. “I– Maybe? Let’s put that under maybe.”
“Great! That’s progress,” Vernon cheered with a smile before resuming his position. “Then, what about dear?”
“Sounds so old-fashioned. I don’t want to sound like an English grandma whenever I call for my girlfriend.”
Vernon froze before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you definitely have a point there.”
They were both tired of the guessing game by the time fifteen minutes passed. They bid each other farewell and headed their separate ways. It was only noon.
The solution? Non-existent. Jihoon still didn’t know what to call you.
And to add to his problems, he soon realised he hadn’t heard from you all day. Your chat was no more full than the previous evening, his call history was even worse off. He hadn’t even seen you on campus. 
Worry got the worst of him and now he was taking the first step instead of you. His worry won over his hesitation and he called you, lifting his phone to his ear all the while glancing around campus anxiously.
You didn’t pick up the first call. Nor the second. Before pressing on the screen to call a third time, he silently swore he’d run through all of your usual spots if you left him hanging like this. Heck, he might even call the police.
“Jihoon?” he then heard your voice through the phone and a stone fell off his heart.
He sighed in relief. “(Y/n), are you okay? I was worried.”
“Dorm,” you whispered meekly into the mic, elaborating no further no matter how much he prompted you. 
His frown only grew with every passing moment of silence on your part. “Do you want me to come over?”
“Please,” you whispered once again and then he heard the most heart-breaking sound: a soft sob. You were crying. 
He cursed under his breath. You were crying and he wasn’t there. “Hold on a little longer, I’ll be there.”
He wasted not a second more and sprinted to your dormitory. With his hands shaking from both worry and exhaustion, it took him two tries to get the door code right, but once the door clicked open, he dashed up the stairs and to your room. 
The door of your room was unlocked and ajar when he arrived and he just about fell through it in an attempt to lean against it for a quick breath. He stumbled into your room and his heart dropped some more, so close to shattering.
“(Y/n), darling,” he whispered before practically throwing himself into the spot next to you, already pulling you into his embrace, “what happened?”
You didn’t say anything, quietly crying into his sweater instead. Jihoon almost wanted to cry with you. “Talk to me. What happened? What can I do to make it better?”
“I fought with my roommate,” you whispered eventually. “I might have to move out.”
“Move out?” he wondered. “Was it that bad?” You didn’t answer, only letting out another soft sob as you further burrowed into his arms. He sighed. “Oh, darling.”
You remained in his arms for a while, stuck between crying over a lost friendship and relishing in his comfort. “I thought she was my friend. God, I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” he protested immediately, perhaps even a little too forcefully for your fragile emotional state. He sighed once again, deeper, before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Do you want me to help you find a new place to stay?”
“I could just ask to be assigned to a different dorm,” you mumbled. “It’s no big deal.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to get your own apartment though?”
“I mean… It would be nice.”
“I can help you pay the deposit,” he offered. He wasn’t sure if he was always this kind or if seeing you so broken made him overcompensate more than usual – come to think of it: there was clearly a pattern forming.
Either way – he mentally ran over the numbers in his bank account –, he could afford to help. 
You sighed. “You don’t have to, Jihoon, it’s fine–”
“Don’t argue with me,” he warned half-jokingly. “Do you want to get your own place or not?”
Still leaning into his chest, you looked up at him. “You’d– You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he shrugged as if he had only offered you a candy bar. “Besides, if you get your own place, I benefit too.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Vernon not letting you sleep in again?”
“I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so bad,” he whispered while squeezing his eyes shut. “And he’s so messy. I need a break every once in a while.”
“So, your only condition is that I let you sleep over?” you chuckled and kissed his cheek which promptly turned red. “Why not just move in with me then?”
He blushed harder. “I think it’s too early for that. Maybe in a few months.”
You pouted at that. “You’re so mean. I was so ready to celebrate moving in with my boyfriend. Tsk.”
“Give me a few months,” he whispered – promised. “I’ll be with you in just a few months, darling.”
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[J. WW.: take her on a picnic in the park during your free period. i hear the cherry trees are blossoming.]
Sandwiches, cake from the café, a thermos full of your favourite tea, a blanket – was anything missing? Well, other than his courage, because he had been staring at the basket for at least half an hour now as if his feet were nailed to the kitchen floor. 
Even Vernon, as patient as he was, had begun to contemplate how to unglue Jihoon so he could freely access the fridge again. 
“Dude,” he finally sighed, “can you move? I’m hungry.”
“There’s food on the stove,” Jihoon mumbled off-handedly, still in a panicked daze. Vernon glanced towards the stove and found nothing on it. 
Why was he so panicked anyway? It was one thing to hesitate before kissing you, but this? This was worse. He was paralysed by fear and he didn’t even understand why.
It’s not like this was your first date.
“Have you never taken a girl out on a date before?” Vernon wondered, brows furrowing as he attempted to make sure his roommate hadn’t been replaced by a faulty android or a hologram.
And just as the words left Vernon’s mouth, Jihoon seemed to wake up. His eyes widened. “I’ve never taken a girl out on a date before.”
Vernon blinked. “You’ve been dating her since, like, fall.”
“Yeah, but she initiated everything,” Jihoon whined, suddenly hyper aware of the way his knees felt like jelly and his hands trembled. 
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“First date?”
“She took me to the movies.”
“First kiss?” 
“She went in first.”
“Who asked the other one out?”
“She asked me.” Jihoon let out another whine. “God, I’m so bad at this whole boyfriend thing. Isn’t there, like, a manual or something?”
“If there is, you’d probably be better off,” Vernon pointed out with a chuckle. “Dude, if she’s stuck with you this long, then she’s not going to break up with you over you taking her on a picnic.”
“But what if she’s actually busy or it rains or–”
“What’s with you and all those what-ifs? Just get out there, take her hand and have a picnic.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Jihoon whispered and hung his head in shame.
“Because it is that easy.”
It was not, in fact, that easy. Jihoon tripped almost three times just on the way to meet you at the park – that’s how nervous he was. And it’s not like he was afraid of you or your reaction. 
He just wanted everything to be perfect. Because you were perfect. And if he couldn’t be perfect with or for you, what was even the point?
Still, even as his nerves threatened to make him throw up in a nearby garbage can, he braved through the anxiety and made his way over to you. He forced on a smile as he approached you, but it soon melted into a genuine one upon seeing your excited grin.
“Hi, darling,” he whispered before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Did you have a good day?”
“It’s barely afternoon,” you joked. Jihoon grimaced: first strike. Two more and he’d pay someone to throw him off a bridge. (He noted that Seungcheol or Joshua seemed like a good choice for that.)
“So,” you rubbed your palms together after helping him set the blanket on the ground, “what are we eating?”
He breathed out shakily before opening the basket. “So… there’s sandwiches – I didn’t know which ones you’d like more so I made a bunch of everything, but if you don’t like any, I’ll run to the store and–”
“Jihoon,” you stopped him with a stern smile and a pat on his cheek – strike two –, “baby, stop acting like it’s the first time we’ve interacted. There’s no need to be shy with me. I love you regardless.”
“I’m sorry, I just–”
“Stop apologising.” Strike three – might as well decide on a bridge now.
“I just want everything to be perfect for you,” he admitted with a sad smile, “but I guess I get too in my own head about it and then–”
You leaned forward and kissed him before he could go any further. When you leaned back, his eyes were wide in disbelief. 
“You– Why did you do that?”
“You were rambling too much.” You smiled at him again, sweeter this time, before kissing him once more. “Everything is perfect already. This picnic is perfect. The weather is perfect. This moment is perfect. You’re perfect. Don’t worry so much. Just breathe and enjoy.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours once again: a gift because you always knew exactly what to say.
“So,” your smile never seemed to fade, “can you stop worrying about everything now?”
He breathed out a defeated sigh and nodded, earning a cheer from you. 
As the two of you began eating, he made conversation, “So, how’s your apartment search going?”
You shrugged. “I’ve found two places. I’m going to see the second one tomorrow, but the first one is very nice. Like, way too nice for that price.”
“And that’s bad somehow?” He laughed.
“It’s way below market rate. It’s too good to be true,” you told him with a soft sigh, closing your eyes as he mindlessly reached to play with your fingers. “I wonder what the quirk is. Like, why is it so cheap? The landlord seemed like a sweet woman and all, but there’s bound to be something weird about that place, right?”
“Maybe it’s haunted,” he joked, making a ‘scary’ face as he stared at you, only to prompt a laugh. 
“Will you come and save me if it is?”
He grimaced. “Hell no. Ghosts are scary business. You’d have to find a different boyfriend.”
“Fine, fine,” you laughed and patted his cheek, “leave all the saving to me instead, then. I’ll protect you.”
“My hero,” he swooned, a hand over his heart. 
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You stared at the ceiling of your new bedroom, practically vibrating with anxiety about the day to come as well as the added responsibilities of adulting outside of a dorm. 
Jihoon, having agreed to stay a few nights for mental support (and a Marvel movie marathon), gave you a weird look.
“Sorry,” you apologised and willed your body to stay still, sure you had annoyed your boyfriend into leaving, “I guess I’m just more nervous about tomorrow than I thought.”
“I think you’re overthinking this,” he chuckled and leaned over to brush a stray hair off your forehead. “It’s just a seminar. You’ve been to those before.”
“Yeah, but this one’s in a foreign language,” you whined and rolled over to hide your face in his chest. “You know my French sucks.”
He scoffed but was thoroughly amused. “I’ve never even heard you speak French.”
“Exactly. Point proven. Now let me suffer in peace.”
Jihoon sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your head. “Is there any way I can help you feel better?”
You shook your head ‘no’ and burrowed further into the comforting darkness his sweater provided. You had no interest in being comforted – what you needed was to go to sleep before 3 am and not wake up with nightmares. Unfortunately, Jihoon couldn’t do that for you, as amazing as he was.
He was just as stumped, but less in the mood to give up. In fact, he was rarely in the mood to give up. 
Still feeling you shaking in his arms, he reached his free hand to get his phone and text the group chat once again, begging for help as he had done so many times before. The help came faster than ever before, as if his friends had a shared 7th sense for Jihoon’s girlfriend troubles.
[C.VN.: bro, arent u good at singing? have u sung to her?]
[but… what do i sing?]
[K.SY.: a song.]
[whaT SONG?]
[X.MH.: you’re literally a music major, i’m sure you can think of a song or two??]
[i’m a uni student, not a jukebox??]
With sleep still unwilling to claim you, you sighed deeply. There was no room to further burrow into your boyfriend’s comforting embrace. An idea hit: maybe a cup of nice peppermint tea could calm you down. 
“Ji, can we go make–” you quietly began but were interrupted by a soft rumbling of his chest. And then you heard it: he was humming. You lifted your head to watch him, unable to tear your eyes from the way his lips oh-so-gracefully parted to sing to you, even as he was still searching for the lyrics on his phone.
Suddenly realising you had said something, he paused, eyes widening as he looked at you. “Sorry, did you say something?”
You shook your head no and continued staring at him. 
Awkward under you gaze, his ears flushed red. He avoided your eyes and turned back to his phone, scrolling through it as a distraction: ads had never looked so interesting before.
“Keep singing,” you whispered to him, hoping he’d hear your plea and fulfil your wish.
He took a deep breath, his hand freezing on the tiny screen. And just as you had hoped, his lips parted again. This time, he really sang, lyrics and all. His voice carried through your room, echoing back from the yet-to-be-decorated walls and filling the space in a comforting manner.
As you listened to him, you realised he had never sung to you before. He had hidden this part of himself for so long. And yet you were already enamoured with it. 
When he finished one song, his lips pursed back together and he hummed a mysterious melody that you could only suspect he had come up with on the spot to fill the silence. Then he began a second song, then a third.
By the fifth song, you were blissfully unaware of your daily troubles and the seminar waiting for you at 10 am. You were deep asleep in his arms, feeling the safest you ever had.
Upon realising you had finally succumbed to the call of dreamland, Jihoon chuckled and locked his phone. His newly free hand reached to stroke your cheek. 
“Little Miss Can’t Fall Asleep falls asleep a lot easier than she claims,” he joked to noone in particular and craned his neck to press another kiss to your temple before settling back down and closing his own eyes. 
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[S.SC.: go shopping with her. i’m sure she needs some things for her new place. she might appreciate the company.]
“I still don’t understand how you don’t have a car,” you started up the topic for the third time this hour. 
Jihoon had never considered you annoying before – not even to the mildest extent – but he was slowly starting to get annoyed. He sighed. “Getting a licence seems like such a hassle.”
“It’s freeing,” you argued, amused by your new-found ability to annoy him even the tiniest bit. “You don’t depend on public transportation or your friends anymore. It’s great.”
“I can get everywhere on foot just fine.” He rolled his eyes and lifted a hand to cover your mouth as you began to speak again. “Didn’t you say you needed new towels? I’m pretty sure we walked straight past those.”
Unable to form proper words under the weight of his hand, you just hummed and let him lead you back to the towel aisle. It was only once you were there that he removed his hand again, wiping it against his hoodie. “Why do you need new towels anyway? It’s not like the ones you’ve used so far are contaminated.”
“It’s the principle, Jihoon,” you told him while scanning through the options. “New place, new me – that type of deal.”
“Sounds like a trick of capitalism,” he joked and leaned his torso forward against the shopping cart you had already half-filled with baskets, blankets, cushions and pillows of all shapes and sizes. 
You turned to glare at him. “Are you my boyfriend or my financial advisor?”
“Both, if you pay me well enough.”
“Whatever. What colour towels should I get?”
He shrugged. “I’m a big fan of the colour black.”
You sighed. “That’s so boring. How about blue?”
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I could be persuaded.”
“I’m taking that as a yes,” you sang and picked up two of the larger fluffy blue towels – one lighter and the other darker in shade. You barely managed to fit them in the cart before your eyes lit up with a new quest in sight. “Oh, we need slippers too.”
He only hummed and swiftly (or as swiftly as one can move a shopping cart that clearly has never been maintained in the 10 years it's been in use) manoeuvred the cart to follow after you. Once he finally found you in the footwear aisle, he was confronted by two pairs of slippers – one black, the other baby pink – in his face. He tilted his head to offer you a confused look.
Without any malice behind it, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Pick a colour.”
“Black.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I know you’re waiting for me to tell you ‘pink’ and I’m not giving you nor Mingyu that satisfaction,” he countered before nodding towards his colour of choice again. “Black.”
“Fine,” you sighed in defeat and placed the pink ones back, only to pick up a different size of the same colour and place it in the cart. 
His eyebrows rose. “What are you–?”
“What size slippers do you wear?” 
“Me?” He frowned. “Why would my opinion on any of this matter? It’s your apartment. Why are you making me choose the colour of the towels and the shower curtain and the–” 
He fell silent, his mouth still ajar in wordless awe as the realisation hit. You tried your hardest to act cool under his disbelieving stare.
“I– I’m not moving in with you,” he whispered, his eyes softening as he reached for your arm as if to comfort you. “We talked about this. I still need some time.”
“I’m not asking you to move in yet,” you laughed sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. “I just thought it would be nice if you could visit without worrying about bringing your things. You’re my boyfriend. I just want you to be comfortable when you come over to stay the night or when you don’t feel like going back to your and Vernon’s place after a long day and–”
Your words faded to the background as he continued staring at you. He was so used to being the one full of hesitation, overthinking his actions, trying to act nonchalant when he finally committed. Seeing you do the same? His heart grew two sizes larger and suddenly he couldn’t contain himself. 
Without thinking about it, he pulled you into a hug, effectively silencing your doubts and rambled justifications just like you had done for him so many times before. 
“You should’ve just said so, silly,” he laughed and held you even tighter.
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[C.VN.: u know, i heard study dates are popular with the girls]
[you’re just trying to get me out of the dorm, aren't you?]
[C.VN.: u cant prove anything]
Sitting across from him in the living room, you watched in silence as Jihoon tapped away at his keyboard. His fingers seemed to fly across the keys at the speed of light, typing out a word and then deleting it. He did so a thousand times before huffing out a sigh and leaning his head back to glare at the ceiling.
“Have you tried taking a break?” you asked him softly, wanting not to scare or irritate him.
His head lolled back to a normal position and he offered an unamused raise of his brows. “Have you seen me take any breaks?”
You grimaced. “Then maybe it’s time to take a break now.”
“Sorry, darling,” he sighed and shook his head, “I need this essay finished by midnight. I’ve been putting this off for too long as it is.”
 You glanced at the clock. “Midnight’s still 10 hours away though. You have time to take a break.”
He rolled his eyes and glared at his laptop screen. A blank page with only the title ‘Western Philosophy 101 Final Essay’ mocked him. “A break from what? I haven’t even done anything.”
“You’ve been thinking hard.”
“Darling, I don’t think you understand how essay-writing works. There’s no use in thinking if no writing comes out of it.”
You reached over to take his hands off the keyboard. His fingers instinctively wrapped around yours, squeezing them just enough to comfort the both of you. “Writing will come out of it if you just relax and just take a break, I promise.”
Jihoon wanted to argue, he really did. But then he looked up from the screen and into your eyes, tempting him to just agree. And while he wasn’t one to give up easily, he was definitely someone who wanted fulfil every wish his loved-ones ever made.
And so, he gave up this time. Defeated, he slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Alright, what do you have in mind?”
“How long do you have?” you asked, feeling mischievous all of a sudden. 
He glanced at his watch before shrugging. “An hour, maybe.”
That was all you needed to pull him towards yourself by the hands. He stumbled a little, just about falling into your lap with a whine of protest before settling exactly where he landed, too tired to care further. His eyes fell closed the moment he felt your warmth against himself.
Without even thinking about it, you reached down to play with his hair. The silky strands ran through your fingers with ease and Jihoon could only hum in appreciation at the gesture. While this wasn’t the cuddle position you had had in mind, you couldn’t say no to the rare chance to dote on your otherwise independent boyfriend.
“This is nice,” he sighed softly and nuzzled his face against your belly, happy to hide from his horrible philosophy final. He lazily opened one eye to look at you, admiring you with the same love as you did him. “We should do this more often.”
“I would love to,” you told him with a sweet laugh and he was glad that he was lying down because his knees felt a little weak all of a sudden. “See, I told you you needed a break.”
He hummed in agreement, closing his eye again. “I feel like I might fall asleep though. And then who will finish my essay? You?”
“How about I just wake you up in, like, 40 minutes instead?” you offered.
With a cheerful giggle, he hid his face further into the fabric of your shirt. His voice sounded muffled as he spoke, “You don’t like philosophy either?”
“Cried my way all the way through the midterms and swore to never take anything philosophy-related again.”
“That’s good. I should do that,” he slurred his words and before long, all you heard were his soft snores. 
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Jihoon liked to think he wasn’t particularly clingy. He didn’t need constant assurance from his friends that he was still loved and wanted – he knew they liked and wanted him around. He knew that you liked and wanted him around.
But when your near-hourly updates about the randomest things you had seen and done were replaced by radio silence, Jihoon grew more and more anxious. Though he knew it was silly to think so, he couldn’t help but worry he had annoyed you into leaving him.
Throughout the day, he kept glancing at his phone. Even just a single message – heck, even an emoji – would make his day infinitely better. When he wasn’t staring at his phone, begging for any notification with your name on it, he was looking at the people around him in the hopes of seeing your familiar face among them.
The day went by without as much as a sign from you.
He felt silly. He felt dumb. He felt like he was going to cry very real tears if you didn’t respond to his text before midnight. 
He let out a loud sigh of relief when your nickname finally popped up on his screen. The tears gathered in his eyes dissipated slowly as he shakily unlocked the phone and tapped on your newest message.
[darling ♡: oh my god. i’m sorry for not answergi !! so sorry!!!]
Jihoon blinked away the remnants of his anxious tears and smiled at the sight of your words. You hadn’t left him just yet. He still had a girlfriend who cared for him.
[it’s okay. did something happen?]
[darling ♡: yeah hahah funny story actually…]
[darling ♡: i think i caught something and i’ve been trying to sleep it off haha]
And just like that, his anxiety was back. Jihoon straightened in his seat, one hand still typing while the other blindly searched for his jacket. 
[youre sick?,??m???]
[darling ♡: a little bit…]
[i’m coming over-]
Before you could send a message of protest, he shrugged his jacket on and headed out the door. Even though he realistically knew that he wouldn’t be much help and would just end up sick himself, he couldn’t just let you suffer all alone.
As he practically galloped down the stairs from his 3rd floor dorm, he texted the group chat for help and assurance.
[L.SM.: she’s sick?! make her dinner! what’s her favourite soup??]
Jihoon paused mid-step. What was your favourite soup?
He arrived at your apartment just ten minutes later, a bag in hand. You greeted him at the door, bags under your eyes, skin dull and lips dry. Jihoon couldn’t help but pout at the sight. 
“What happened to you?” he asked, reaching up to brush his thumb across the cracked skin of your lips. “Have you been drinking water at all?”
“The fridge is too far from the bed,” you told him with a defeated sigh before practically melting into his embrace. “I told you not to come.”
He scoffed out a laugh and began rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie. “Well, I’m here anyway. And I’m making you food. How does tomato soup sound?”
“Like you don’t know how to make chicken soup,” you answered with a suspicious squint of your eyes. 
He laughed at that, ears turning red at the way you had caught onto his scheme. “Alright, I think you should go back to resting.”
“You should go to sleep too,” you argued. “It’s past midnight already and you have classes tomorrow.”
“I can skip a day.” He said it with such ease and carelessness that you couldn’t help but wonder who this man was because your boyfriend hadn’t skipped any classes in the entire time you had been together. 
Still, you were too tired to care. Soup sounded better than sleeping on an empty stomach for another 12 hours. 
“Can I at least help you cook?” you practically begged, hanging onto his arm as he began preparing in the kitchen. 
A little taken aback by your affection, he laughed nervously. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I think I’m starting to feel better actually,” you half-joked, watching with starry eyes as he expertly washed and then chopped the tomatoes. “Seeing you has recharged me with energy.”
“Yeah?” He hummed in thought before offering you a mischievous smile. “Then do you have enough energy to go and rest a little?”
Your face dropped. “Why can’t you just accept my love?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you’re feverish and standing up for long won’t do you any good, darling,” he whispered before pressing a swift kiss to your cheek and returning to his task. “So, go rest on the sofa. I can go get your laptop so you can watch something, if you want.”
“But what if I want to cuddle?”
“Cuddle a pillow.”
“You’re cruel.”
He rolled his eyes at your dramatic antics. Clearly the fever was affecting you worse than he had feared. “When I literally ran across the district to come here and make you soup at midnight?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Fine, you can stay,” he paused and gave a warning glare, even if it looked far less threatening with the smile playing on his lips, “for now.”
You let out a soft cheer and cuddled back into his side, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he made you soup. You marvelled at the graceful movements of his hands. You couldn’t help but wonder how many of his friends he had made food for. For now you were just glad to be one of them.
“I hope I recover fast,” you whispered. “Or maybe I should just stay sick forever.”
“Why?”
“I have a stupid presentation next week. I haven’t even started reading to prepare for it.” You buried your face into the fabric of his hoodie. He took a moment to press his cheek against your head in an act of assurance. You sighed and mumbled a final, “Stupid finals.”
He laughed at that. “I’ll get you some medicine tomorrow so you can recover fast.”
With a groan, you straightened up a little again to side-eye him. “Can’t you just leave me here to suffer? Or help me fake my death? What kind of a boyfriend are you?”
“The kind that wants his girlfriend to be healthy for our end-of-the-semester date night,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
His confidence really made you wonder if you had forgotten about this clearly existing tradition between the two of you. But no, you were pretty sure he had just made this up. Or perhaps you were too loopy from paracetamol to remember. 
Either way, you let yourself get carried away into a fantasy of sharing a date night with only your boyfriend and no university stress. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
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The end of the semester came faster than Jihoon or any of his friends would have liked. It snuck up on them between the despair and sleepless nights of the exam session. And he could not have been happier about it.
Once he had submitted the final essay of the semester – the very last graded project he’d have to submit before a well-deserved break –, he slammed his laptop shut and looked at you, still hunched over your laptop on the bed, re-reading the last paragraphs of your own essay.
“Hold on,” you told him upon feeling his eyes on yourself, “I’m almost done.”
“No rush,” he replied with a sweet smile before letting out a soft giggle of relief and falling back onto your mattress, his arms spread out as if to soak in the freedom.
As if the sight of your boyfriend basking in the glow of no more exams had motivated you to finish sooner than you planned, you hurriedly rushed to upload your final assignment. A green check mark appeared on the screen to indicate that you could finally join your boyfriend. 
With a loud cheer, you closed your own laptop and crawled over to where your boyfriend was lying. Immediately you burrowed into his side and sighed happily. “This semester sucked.”
“You can say that again,” he agreed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders like he had done so many times before. “But at least it’s over now.”
You hated to be the wet blanket but… “Unless one of us fails.”
He groaned and used the same arm to roll you away from him. “I hate you. Go away.”
You laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in distaste as if he had swallowed bitter medicine. “I’m just saying. We’re not safe yet.”
“We’re safe enough,” he declared and waved your negative thoughts away. “God, I hate you, now you’re making me anxious.”
“You don’t actually hate me,” you sang and rolled back over to him, settling right on top of him, your nose against his own. “In fact, you like me.”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasped and sat up, resting your hand on his chest as you leaned upright to glared at him. “Unfortunately?!”
He laughed at your theatrics, giggling with his whole body, shaking so hard in the process that you lost your balance and fell back right on top of him. His arm came to rest around your shoulders again. Once he was out of giggles, he continued smiling and caressed your cheek. “You’re so freaking cute. It’s unfair.”
“Take back that ‘unfortunately’ and I might get even cuter,” you told him, a suspicious glare set on him. 
His smile never faded as he leaned up just a little, resting his entire body weight on one arm just to press his lips to yours. “I take the word back.”
“Good,” you decided and joined in his laughter before kissing him again, “because I kind of love you, actually.”
He froze. His eyes widened just a fraction, his lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise.
He stayed like that for long enough to make you worry you had made your move too fast. He liked to take it slow – you knew that. He had been taking it slow all this time. And now you’ve confessed and he probably thought you were ridiculous and dumb and–
“Darling…” His lips curled into a smile, his eyes turning into joyful crescents, and then he leaned in again. 
His hands came to rest on your cheeks, squishing them just a little as he pulled you to his lips. He kissed you again and again and again. 
He kissed you until you were dumb. He didn’t stop kissing you until you were sure you couldn’t form a single word that wasn’t his name. 
Then, eventually, with both of your lips swollen and eyes dazed, he leaned back and nuzzled his nose against your own. “I love you so, darling, I really do.”
It took you a moment to understand what he was saying. He had kissed you so dumb that you could’ve sworn he was speaking in another language. But finally, your brain caught up with the situation and a smile appeared on your face, bright and proud and full of adoration for your boyfriend. 
“You should kiss me like that more often,” you told him, teasing, trying to see what he’d do. 
He replied with a playful roll of his eyes and another kiss, a single one but much longer than the last twenty. 
“I love you,” you whispered again against his lips.
His smile only seemed to brighten even more at that. “I love you too.”
But as he was about to go in for another kiss, a loud vibration sounded from somewhere in the sheets. The two of you glanced around as the vibrations continued, breaking you from the romantic daze.
“Is someone calling you?” he wondered. 
“My phone’s been on silent since the dawn of time, babe,” you told him easily and helped him look for his phone. “It must be yours.”
Just when you said those words, the vibrations abruptly stopped. And then another vibration came, short and gentle this time. 
You found his phone under the pillows, Soonyoung’s contact name appearing alongside the missed call symbol and a minimised text message on the screen.
“It’s your tiger friend,” you told Jihoon and turned to hand the phone to him when the phone vibrated again with a new message coming in. 
It wasn’t your fault that the whole screen flashed to life with the message – what were you supposed to do? Not read it? 
[K.SY.: oh, nonie said u’re with y/n?]
And then another message arrived before he could take the phone from your hands. 
[K.SY.: have u told her u love her yet ??!?!!]
[K.SY.: the chat is rootin for u!!!! u’ve been good at following our advice this far. u’ve got this!!]
A mischievous smile appeared on your face as you read the message. Jihoon didn’t realise what made you react this way until he took his phone and read the message minimised on his lockscreen. He groaned as the realisation hit.
“Don’t start–”
“You told your friends that you loved me,” you beat him to it, reaching over to squish his cheeks and kiss his nose. “And you asked them for advice? You’re so goddamn cute.”
His ears got progressively more red with every word. He quickly swiped the messages off his screen and threw his phone as far away as he could without potentially breaking it. “It wasn’t like that–”
“I’m just teasing, baby,” you laughed and pulled him into a comforting hug. Poor man was mortified. “I do have to ask though: what kind of advice did you get from them?”
“Well,” he hesitated as you looked at him expectantly, “I wanted to be a good boyfriend, so… I asked them how to be a better boyfriend…”
You pressed your lips to his. “You’re a good boyfriend, Jihoon, I promise. You’re the best, actually.” 
“I had to ask my friends for help just to get the courage to initiate a kiss,” he confessed, squeezing his eyes shut as the urge to cringe and hide away under the bed overcame him. “I’m a mediocre boyfriend, at most.”
“I strongly disagree,” you told him and pulled him in for another kiss, “but we’ll work on your confidence, my love.”
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♡ THE END! ♡
723 notes · View notes
chaileaf · 1 year
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𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒
part two of anonymous bidder
› featuring: med student!shuntaro chishiya + fem!reader
› word count: 2,674 words
› synopsis: it had been three years since you last seen shuntaro chishiya after graduation. suddenly, a fateful interaction brings you two back together. the question is: will you forgive him?
› rating: nsfw, +18
› cw: vulgar language, explicit content, sex on camera, angst, brief rough sex scene
› setting: after college au where reader is interning as a biotechnologist in a hospital and chishiya is a medical student doing clinical rotations
⤷ chai's note: hey y'all! i really appreciate all the love i received on anonymous bidder so i decided to enlogate it into four to five parts. i know this is a bit short (and extremely less smutty) but i hope you still enjoy it! (also dw pt 3 is gna be way more explicit) i haven't been able to write much because i've been away at medic training for the army (long story) but i wanted to get part two to you guys asap. if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! anyone who's in my tag list will be tagged in all of my future writings so if you'd rather be tagged in only anonymous bidder update, please lmk! i love you all so much! thank you for allowing me to create beautiful pieces for you guys. i appreciate everything. much love, chai !!
⤷tags: @poetrieshouse @tungstenorc @mackjestic @seraphvm @naegisimp @fishisahappydog @parkersmyth @huachengsbestie01 @chlooooop @bxcndd @kowzs @sleepysnk @luuminou ily guys sm for supporting my writing, you have no idea how much i appreciate it 🫶🏻
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your fingers flipped the pages of your notes while your eyes scanned over the material. “let’s see… test subject a responded to chemicals a and e very well. that’s a good sign.” you whispered to yourself, highlighting the text with your pink pen. “but chemical b and c did not react well. that could be detrimental when putting it into certain med-”
“y/n? is that… is that you?” a somewhat familiar voice questioned from the breakroom door you didn’t even realize opened. your eyes widened as you turned to face chishiya shuntaro, cheeks going pale and mouth propping itself somewhat open.
“y/n? is that… is that you?” a somewhat familiar voice questioned from the breakroom door you didn’t even realize opened. your eyes widened as you turned to face chishiya shuntaro, cheeks going pale and mouth propping itself somewhat open.
“chishiya?” you said out of shock more than actually questioning it. you never thought you’d see him again after college graduation, thinking he’d go to some hot shot hospital for his medical rotations. instead, he was still in shibuya. the hospital was nice, sure, but there were better options for the school’s valedictorian.
“how’ve you been? it’s been, what, almost three years?” chishiya asked with a chortle at the end, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the countertop with his hip. he looked nearly the same as he did when you’d seen him last. his silky blonde strands were still touching his shoulders. the brown eyes that had a habit of scanning everyone in the room were glistening with judgement. his frame looked bigger, as if he’d been working out in his free time. yet, something was off. he wasn’t the same chishiya. his presence seemed softer, as if he was less intense. could it be working with patients made him more susceptible to empathy and sympathy?
“i’ve been good!” your voice sounded excited and somewhat exasperated, as if you were holding a breath before speaking. “i started an internship here under the lead researcher for the hospital so work has been… draining?” you questioned, not sure if that was the right word to use. “but i really like it here! everyone is so nice and welcoming, surprisingly. i thought biotechnologists were snarky assholes.” the last sentence was whispered with a laugh. chishiya stared at you intently, causing the smile that creeped on your lips to fade. “is… is something wrong, chishi-”
“you just look as beautiful as the last time i saw you.” chishiya cut you off. the words were simple, but everything in your brain scattered as if the things he’d said were a complex math problem. you gulped, feeling a familiar crimson rush to your face. the room seemed about ten degrees hotter, causing your breathing to increase ever so slightly with your heart rate. his face was plain, but it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.
“i-” you tried to speak after a few moments of silence to kill the awkwardness. it was to no avail when the words decided to get stuck in your throat. you brushed the strands of hair coming out of your ponytail behind your ear out of embarrassment. “thanks…” your voice was so soft that he almost didn’t hear you. chishiya let out a small laugh, shaking his head. the almost-silver strands fell to cover his face, but you could still see his smile. he was definitely a softer version of the chishiya shuntaro you knew in college.
“you don’t have to be embarrassed, y/n. it’s just a compliment. relax.” you let out an exhale you didn’t realize was trapped in your lungs at the end of his statement. an awkward laugh escaped your mouth as you turned back to your notes, pretending to focus on them instead of letting memories of the past seep in. “anyways, we should go out for lunch today. you down?” he asked. it didn't seem malicious, but you couldn’t help but think that he wanted something else.
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your body was pinned under his, hands wrapped around your wrists as you screamed out of pleasure into the pillow. your back kept arching into him with each stroke of his thick cock. “you love that, don’t ya? fucking whore…” the last two words were mumbled under his breath as he continuously kissed your g-spot with the tip of his member. chishiya uncuffed a hand from your wrists and went to the locks of hair by the nape of your neck, pulling your head backwards to where his lips were pressed against your ear. “i wanna hear you scream my fucking name. show them how much you want me, pretty girl.” he relentlessly pounded into your cunt as you moaned loud enough for the camera to pick up. “show them you’re mine.”
it had been two weeks since the library incident, and you were absolutely needy for chishiya shuntaro. your pussy ached every time you seen his face around campus, as if it was made for him. your avoidance didn’t help, but instead made everything worse; especially since you watched him every time he livestreamed as k1ng0fd1am0nds. eventually, he cornered you in the dorms the same way he did in the library. one thing led to another until you were yet again underneath the beautiful man that was chishiya.
‘friends with benefits’ was what he’d call the situationship that lasted up to graduation. it was a wonderful experience, to say the least. chishiya was a very selfless person in bed and always made sure you got off multiple times before he did. you even gave in to his requests to perform with him on his cam streams. it was an anxiety inducing situation, considering nearly the whole school found out. it was the talk of the town for an entire two weeks, with some teachers even giving you a side eye. by the time everything went back to normal, graduation was nearing closer and you could see the finish line.
being done with chishiya was bittersweet. on one hand, you could finally be free of his grasp and actually try to find a real relationship. on the other, you knew you’d miss him. he was genuinely a fun person to be around whenever you weren’t at school. chishiya knew how to crack a good joke. he would pay the tab no matter where you two went out to eat. he also did his best to calm your anxiety whenever you were studying; in some cases, giving you head or fingering you while asking questions and stopping whenever you got the answer wrong.
at the end of it all, he didn’t seem bothered. chishiya didn’t even say goodbye. his dorm was empty and cleared out before you could get the chance to wish him well in his future. for some reason, it made your heart ache. you thought about it for a month straight trying to figure out what you might’ve done wrong. he never answered your texts or calls. he disappeared.
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“no.” you stated before closing your notes. chishiya scoffed in disbelief, and he must have thought you were joking with the smile that was still plastered on his face.
“oh, you’re serious.” chishiya’s mouth downturned into a frown as his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “i don’t get it. it’s just lunch, y/n.” you almost felt bad. almost. you continued to pack your things into your satchel bag and put it over your shoulder. looking at him in the eyes hurt too much, so you focused on the wall above his head to make it seem like you were staring at him.
“chishiya, if you want to fuck someone, go find some other girl for your cam show. we ended things three years ago, let’s keep it that way.” the words flowed out of your mouth before you could stop them. you could tell they stung by the way chishiya was looking at you with skepticism. the emotional poison he’d given you three years ago was finally out of your body and returned the original snake.
“y/n-” chishiya started, but was soon cut off by your own voice.
“goodbye.” and with that, you left the breakroom with a slam of the door.
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your heart was racing as you walked into work the next day, terrified that you’d be face to face with chishiya shuntaro again. you knew your words hurt, but you didn’t care. he hurt you. isn’t it fair?
guilt started to pour into your chest and made it feel heavier than usual. you did your best to shake it off on the way to the elevator, but it was to no avail. you wanted to apologize. you wanted to scream. you wanted to disappear, just like he did. all of these thoughts clouded your mind and you just wanted peace.
ding!
the doors to the elevators opened and hospital staff fled out as if they’d been in there for hours. you let out a deep breath, walking in after everyone cleared out and pressing the button for the lab. the doors shut quickly, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you clutched your satchel bag to your chest and rested your chin on the top. “i’m so fucking stupid…” you whispered to yourself while tears dared to well inside of your eyes.
ding!
the sound of the elevator brought you out of your thoughts and you leaned sideways on the elevator walls, facing a different direction than the entrance to hide the emotions that were slowly appearing on your face. “y/n?” chishiya’s voice felt like a burn to your ears. you closed your eyes and muttered a desperate ‘fuck’ under your breath. “are you okay?” his concerned voice was followed by the sound of the elevator creaking, causing you to look around with a somewhat panicked expression until the noise stopped and the elevator kept moving.
“yeah. yeah, i’m fine.” a sigh escaped your lungs as you leaned your head back onto the wall, ready to get this interaction over with.
“y/n, listen.” chishiya began, trying his best to speak before you could intervene. however, you weren’t about to let that happen.
“i don’t want to listen, chishiya.” you opened your eyes and positioned your head to where you could look him dead in the eyes. your gaze was nearly piercing his skull with every second you looked at him. “you disappeared, why can’t i disappear? why-” your voice became shakier with each word. you took an extensive inhale before letting it out and continuing. “why do i have to feel guilty for expressing my feelings in the breakroom yesterday? why do i want to apologize to you when you were the one who left me!” the tears that had left you returned at full force, dripping down your cheeks like a small waterfall in a forest.
the creaking noise of the elevator had gotten louder, but your frustrations drowned out every sound except the words coming out of your mouth. chishiya was staring sorrowfully at you, as if his own heart was breaking listening to you. his face was the least of your concerns as the elevator came to a halt. both of you grabbed onto the railings placed on either wall of the enclosed space, a thud bringing you both out of the current conversation. an automated voice rang through the elevator speakers, replacing the jingles that were playing prior to the sudden stop.
“please hold tight. assistance is on the way. do not panic.”
“jesus fucking christ.” you said with nothing but exhaustion and irritation. your head leaned against the wall again with a thump. this is not where you expected to be when you played the day’s events in your head this morning. “just my luck…” you mumbled, opening your eyes only to roll them.
“y/n, i didn’t want to do that.” chishiya started the conversation back up, walking closer to you in order to get you to look in his direction. you tried to back up, only flushing yourself further into the wall, as you stared him down. he stopped in his tracks. his body was clad in light blue scrubs and a white doctor’s coat. his hands came up and adjusted the lanyard and stethoscope around his neck out of what you presumed was anxiety. “do you want the honest answer, or do you want to keep going on hating me with no answer to why i disappeared?” chishiya quizzed, crossing his arms the same way he did when he was in college. his shoulder length hair was meticulously placed into a ponytail with only his bangs left out to frame his face.
you stared at him, waiting for him to continue talking instead of cooperating with a nod. chishiya inched closer, standing next to you against the wall so that you both were facing the elevator doors. he let out a profound sigh and began again. “i knew that i had feelings from you after the first time in the library, even before that, i knew.” he confessed, leaning his head against the wall as if to mimick you. your head turned to watch him as he spoke. “i didn’t want to accept it. i thought that i could keep you at a distance but everything kept telling me to go to you. i’d see you in the cafeteria and wave. you always avoided me, so i never even had the chance to tell you how i felt.” chishiya’s voice was lower now, almost as if he was embarrassed. “when i finally got you alone, we had sex. it was wonderful, don’t get me wrong.” he laughed to himself, causing you to chortle. the sentence almost made you blush, but it felt so natural to hear him talk like this. “anyways, i didn’t think that it would be the best impression if i asked you out after that. even when we were friends with benefits,” chishiya put air quotes around friends with benefits, making you stifle a laugh. “i didn’t want to ask you out. why?” he shook his head, strands of his bangs moving with him. “i have no idea. it would’ve been perfect. but part of me didn’t feel good enough. you deserved better. a clean slate of a relationship where it starts out as a relationship, not a fuck in the library. so i left.”
the end of his explanation came far too soon. you sat in silence, staring at his face that was focused on the elevator flooring. you wanted to feel guilty, but you didn’t. you had no reason to apologize since your feelings were valid and justified in this situation. his explanation was not an excuse. but… “i forgive you.”
the words were like an alarm to his ears, making him perk his head up and look at you. chishiya’s expression was that of a puppy you just asked to go for a walk. “what?” he questioned as if the words didn’t register into his brain.
“i forgive you.” you stated calmly with a profound sigh. “i understand that it might’ve been hard to come to terms with your feelings, so you did what you knew how to do. you closed yourself off and left. so, i forgive you.”
you both stood in the elevator for what seemed like an eternity of silence. the only sound present was a drowned out beeping noise from the elevator’s alarm system. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, nor was it awkward. you couldn’t help but feel as if you both were healing from the past wounds with each other's presence.
“so, y/n...” chishiya said with a cracked voice before clearing his throat. it made you chuckle, as an unconfident chishiya wasn’t exactly usual. “would you like to go on a date with me?” his eyes veered over to yours and you retained the smile from your previous chuckle, nodding your head slowly.
“yeah, chishiya. i would.”
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