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gummydummy19 · 3 months

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The bear and his honey

Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))

Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)

A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3

Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)

Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.

It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.

In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...

One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.

"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.

"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.

After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.

Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.

So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.

"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.

Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.

"Ya want me to?"

Is he joking?

He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.

That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.

"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'

He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.

You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.

Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.

A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.

During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.

You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...

The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.

'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.

"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.

When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.

You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.

You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."

You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.

He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.

"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.

"You."

"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach

"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.

"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.

His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.

"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."

A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.

He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.

That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...

Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.

Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.

It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.

'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.

'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.

'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.

While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.

It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.

When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.

You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?

Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.

By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...

You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.

"OH MY GOD!"

"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.

"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."

Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.

"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.

"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.

"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"

You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.

"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."

"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.

"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.

Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.

"Not a word", he said.

"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.

Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.

You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.

"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.

"I don't need-"

"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.

Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.

"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.

He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.

"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.

You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.

"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"

A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.

"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"

"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.

You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.

"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"

"Sy, please...", you started begging.

'Please what? Use your words"

"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.

Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.

Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.

It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.

"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.

"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.

"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"Fuck, Sy..."

The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.

He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.

You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.

"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.

"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.

Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.

You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.

He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.

"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.

"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.

You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.

"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.

It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.

"Really?"

"Absolutely", he promised.

You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.

He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.

"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.

You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.

A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"

"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.

"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.

You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.

"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.

"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.

"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.

You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.

"Yeah..."

"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.

You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.

"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.

"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.

"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.

"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".

Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.

"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."

His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"

He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".

He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.

After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.

"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.

You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.

"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.

"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."

Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.

He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.

"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."

He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior @peyton-warren

#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #captain syverson #smutty thoughts #henry cavill #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fic #henry cavill fanfic #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson x you #grumpy x sunshine #grumpy bear #grumpy sunshine trope

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volensnolenss · 3 months

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𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: nsfw! mdni, friends to lovers, drunk sex, unprotected sex, riding, praising

“such gifts are made for a reason” mei mei whispered in your ear, her eyes glittering, looking at the necklace given to you by gojo. it lies in a dark blue box, on a black velvet backing.

“but i'm just a friend to him.” you frown your eyebrows, glancing at her sly face, “darling, you’re one of his fantasies” she laughs loudly, not caring that she gives you her friend's secret. After all, it had to happen.

“are you kidding now?” you're still serious, you don't show your emotions.

“have i ever joked?” she takes you to the mirror, adjusts your dress and hangs a necklace around your neck, “surprise him today on your birthday” you had no idea at that moment what was waiting for you.

“do you like my gift?” gojo twirls the necklace around your neck with his fingers, which he gave you for your birthday, with his other hand he squeezes your breast, “mhh, it's very beautiful” you dig your nails into his shoulders, scratching his skin while you ride his hard cock for quite a long time. you can't feel your wet, numb thighs, but you're still desperately chasing your orgasm.

because of the alcohol you drank, you remember in fragments how you and satoru got to this hotel. you no longer care about this, because his length rests so pleasantly against your walls that you are ready to spend your whole night on it.

“is it true what mei mei told me about you? am i one of your fantasies?” through the moans, you turn to him, sinking lower on his cock, “haha she doesn't know how to keep secrets it turns out. fuck— baby” he strokes your cheek and pulls your face towards him, “i dreamed about how to fuck you. i wanted to see your sweet tired face after i cum into you. hearing more than just your voice and your moans is all I wanted” he can't describe the thrill that you give him with your sopping tight cunt, your walls delightfully wrap around his cock, squeezing it and forcing cum over and over again.

“shit— i'm sure, you were created to bring me such pleasure” he grabs you by the waist and convulsively impales you on his dick, “satoru— ah! it's too much!” you squeal, his tip pressed against the very bottom of your cunt, frantically caressing you, “sweet, please. you're my good girl and you can take it. just let me cum again—”

you get ahead of him and move your aching hips, “no-o, i'll help you” you abruptly and casually bounce on his cock and rub your aching clit against him, “yeah, baby, keep me up all night like that. feels so good, cum on my cock— don’t stop” you and gojo moan loudly as his shaft twitches inside you, shooting white jets, filling you, “satoru!” you lose yourself as you are crushed by orgasm, throwing back your head, feeling how terribly your legs are shaking.

you get off satoru, and he sighs heavily as his cock lands on his thigh. you fall face down on the pillow, and he turns to you, without taking his eyes off your necklace, “if i had known this was going to happen, i'd have given you lingerie” you chuckled and rolled over on your back, “you have a lot going for you.”

he put his hand under his head, removed his gray hair from his forehead and began to play with the sheet, “when i sober up, there will be a lot of interesting things waiting for you too.”

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut

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elsweetheart · 1 year

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gm angel!!! i was wondering if u could possibly write abt ellie helping out an inexperienced reader like she has her first time with ellie n what the would be like!!

haaayyyy omg ok

slow burn.

🎀 innocent / inexperienced!reader, very smutty ! ellie being a cocky lil shit …

you knew you’d wanted ellie from the moment you met her.

you were entranced by her, both young teenagers, ellie a year or so older than you when she took you under her wing. you often recalled how she solidified your love for girls almost instantly, the crush on her hitting you flat in the face like a slab of concrete. you think back to her adorable pony tail, the way she dressed, the way she had boy-ish charm and playfulness but could comfort you the way only a girl could. you’d spent a long time following her around like a lost puppy, being known as “ellies shy friend”. over the years she’d forced you out of your shell again and again, dragging you around with your hand in hers, a constant reassurance.

inevitably, now adults, you’d ended up her girlfriend. “slowest fucking burn in the world.” the auburn haired girl often told you, shaking her head recalling the way two of you had grown up crushing on eachother without saying a word. “no seriously, what… the fuck… were we doing?” she chuckled, handing you the watering can as you worked. she found it sweet how you’d only been given the totally ‘girly’ jobs around jackson. tending to the horses, helping out in the garden etc. she couldn’t picture you leading a supply run or hunting like she would, nor would she want you to. your soft hands were best utilised back here, where you were safe.

“i guess i didn’t wanna ruin what we had. i knew you liked girls but i thought it was awfully presumptuous to assume you liked me just because we were close and i’m a girl.” you shrugged thoughtfully, trickling water on the soil. you turned your head to look at ellie for her thoughts, only to find her smirking. you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“presumptuous.” she repeat, amused at your use of such big and unnecessary words. she jumped off the wooden fence where she was sat, leaning forward to ruffle the top of your head. “my smart girl, aren’t you?” it wasn’t mocking, or patronising and yet it made heat rise to your cheeks, something else, another feeling stirring down below. before she had time to notice she was stepping away, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets. “alright, i gotta go meet tommy about some fuckin’ hunt he wants me to lead. i’ll see you later, yeah babe?” she began strolling away and as you lift you head to bid her farewell, hands pushing some new buds into the soil she spun on her heel, finger pointed towards you.

“hey—um,” she began casually. “you wanna come over tonight? i got that movie you said you wanted to watch, the scary one.” she flushed. it was still very early days in your relationship, finally having admit your feelings for eachother just about a month ago. even though you’d known her for years, the two of you were treading on totally new territory. she made you hot and nervous, even more than she did before now that she was all yours. she oozed confidence, and now she had you— her usual flirtiness was dialled up to ten. it had erupted some feelings you’d only briefly touched on before, one’s that would have you laying awake at night frustratedly palming at your cunt trying to dull the ache she’d leave from her lingering glances and gentle manhandling.

later that night, you were smushed up against her side on the couch— the old horror movie buzzing on the screen. the two of you were always affectionate, it was normal. but now, your heart raced when her arm slipped around the back of you, pulling you closer into her. “you know, incase you get scared.” she smirked, and you feel like the butterflies in your tummy bottomed out into your cunt. you stared up at her for a moment, totally unaware of her joking tone and nodded shyly, snuggling into her with your eyes glued onto the screen to hide your face. to be quiet honest, you had no idea what was going on in the movie, you were totally encompassed by being so close to her.

she seemed totally relaxed and in her element, which equally sucked for you as it made her even hotter, whilst easing your mind slightly that she had everything under control. her hand pushed your tshirt up your arm slightly, hands gently stroking and kneading the skin there in an attempt to comfort you. you realised that she must’ve thought you were on edge because of the movie, and not because of how much she effected your body. her hand was cold and slightly clammy, a stark comparison to how warm the rest of her was in her hoodie. you snuck a peek at her, eyes flitting over her profile. she was wetting her bottom lip with her tongue, eyes on the screen. everything seemed to suit her so perfectly, her hair pulled up into her messy half up bun, the freckles dusted over her nose and cheeks, the scar dividing her eyebrow into two. you felt so lucky to have her, and you wished you knew how to express to her how badly you wanted her.

“you know, i can see you staring.” her lips pulled up into another smirk, this one more adoring as she turned to look at you, her eyes moving in a triangle motion— from one eye, to your lips, to the other. you couldn’t help but openly look at her mouth too, glittering with moisture slightly from her own tongue. “hm?” came your delayed reaction, so zoned out— feeling light headed from the way she made you feel. this made her chuckle, low in her throat.

“hm?” she repeat, teasingly. “you want a kiss?” she offered, her hand now stroking down your back from your position, turned to face her. you didn’t even wait a beat, already embarrassed from the way you threw yourself at her. kissing was the one thing you did know how to do, wrapping your arm around her neck, an accidental moan leaving your throat when you did so. she took control quickly, pushing you back with her mouth, hand on your cheek to almost soothe your desperation. “easy, tiger.” she joked with a humble chuckle, pulling away to breathe and laugh at you. you felt your face turn all hot and your lips parted, realising how pathetic you were being. you blinked a few times, turning back to the screen like it never happened.

“sorry.” you blurt out, frozen in your spot from the humiliation. the amused smile didn’t falter on her face at first when she leant forward to look at your profile questioningly.

“hey, wait what?” her brows furrowed, the smile taking its time dropping. you didn’t say anything and she spoke again. “babe? what just happened, huh?” she gently took your chin, urging you to look at her and she nudged you slightly with her shoulder. you looked at her wide eyed and guilty, struggling with your words.

“i didn’t mean to — i just — i accidentally just totally threw myself at you because — i want — i don’t know ellie, i’m sorry.” you covered your face, feeling hot tears in your eyes.

“woah, baby!” she cooed sympathetically, not quite knowing what she’d done to get you so wound up but feeling incredibly guilty for it. “hey, don’t be like that. i liked it. i was just gonna tease you for it, that’s all. you know what i’m like, m’an idiot.” she chuckled reassuringly, both hands on your cheeks. you peered up at her shyly, letting her stroke her thumbs along your cheeks.

“really?” you clarified, blinking at her in the low light as the movie continued, unattended to in the background.

“really.” she confirmed with her classic ellie smirk, she pulled your face close to hers, lips just grazing over yours. “i actually thought it was kind of hot, seeing you all needy like that.” she breathed into your mouth, and right there and then your pussy clenched up, thighs near trembling with the force it had spasmed at just her voice. you worried for the couch beneath you, scared of dampening it from your seemingly abundant arousal.

you couldn’t say anything, just let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to try and connect your lips. she leant back a little, so fucking cocky and amused when you chased her, letting out a desperate, quiet ‘ah…’ as you did so. “uh-uh.” she cooed and your eyes fluttered open to look at her face, analysing you close up. she was trying to get you back to that place she had you before without the embarrassment. needy, desperate, bordering on frantic for her touch.

already without pride, you whispered. “please, ellie.” and she couldn’t help but grant your wish, pressing her lips to yours. the makeout session intensified past any point the two of you had gotten it before. you hadn’t even realised that you were moaning quietly as her tongue massaged yours, and she groaned back— more at the feeling of your chest heaving against yours, the subtle feeling of your nipples hard through your top pressing against her was driving her wild.

you knew she’d been with other girls before, much to your devastation over the years when she’d come back to you bragging about her new sexual endeavours. to you, it felt like confirmation that she would never in a million years like you. you’d spent many nights crying over this, or out right avoiding her when she’d go through these phases. luckily for you, her relationships never lasted that long— no more than a week or two at a time, and the reason behind the breakup was always vague and mumbled, ellie recovering from it almost instantly— clear that something vital had been missing (that being, you— of course.) to ellie, her bragging was a constant display of her worth to you. she knew, but wouldn’t admit that she was only trying to prove to you that she could make you feel good if you’d ever give her the chance, but she was sure she’d blown her chances by that point.

you however, were totally innocent. you didn’t understand half the sexual jokes ellie made, let alone understand the sexual acts she’d describe when she’d return to you after one of her little flings. she’d always chuckle, catching a glance of your wide, focused eyes before patting you on the head “you’ll learn what that means one day, don’t you worry.” she’d mock, amused by your lack of experience.

your back arched into her touch when she finally slid her slender hands up your top, stroking and worshipping your soft skin that she’d always wanted to get her hands on. a whimper forced its way past your lips when her fingers ran over your breasts. you pant against her mouth, before the moment was again broken by her quiet yet obnoxious laugh.

“what?” you whine, openly needy this time.

“nothing, s’just… god, i thought you were fuckin’ innocent dude. you want it so bad.” her lips catch yours again, pulling away ever so slightly to suck on your bottom lip as she groped you beneath your shirt.

“i don’t know how to— i don’t know what i want i just know that…” you began, voice strained and hoarse as she mouthed at your neck, undoubtably sucking a bruise like she did last time (which when noticed, earned you a wide-eyed side-eye from Joel himself the next day.) she pulled away from you, her eyes all pupil at this point, mouth wet and flushed with colour.

“you just know what, hm? s’okay, i don’t bite.” she couldn’t help herself from pecking you again. “unless, you know… you’re into that.” she stole another kiss, gently nipping your bottom lip, voice deep with the smirk laying across her mouth. you drew in a harsh inhale, trying to gather your thoughts.

“you know i’ve never…” you started and she nodded, giving you her full attention now.

“i know, babe. you don’t have to—” she reassured but you cut her off, hands grabbing her by the collar of her hoodie, practically half on top of her.

“i want to. i want you to… i need help. you make me need something and i don’t know what, but i can’t sleep at night and i can’t focus, els. just want you t’make it better.” she could feel you slipping. you were always so submissive to her, even in every day life she knew you’d do anything to please her— and now things were no different, except it had been dialled up, and you were staring at her with big doe eyes and lips that she wanted to push her fingers into and make you suck. she ran her thumb over your bottom lip just at the thought, picturing how pretty you’d look.

“you need me to make you cum.” she state boldly and your eyes widened a little bit. you knew that cumming meant an orgasm, and the thought equally scared you and excite you. you could never quite get there by yourself, mounting pillows and blankets and your hand — yet never quite sure what to do, just rutting against it like some kind of desperate bunny. “i can do that, baby. always wanted to do that.” she whispered in confession, her other hand sliding up your back to reach your hair, tugging gently and slowly to expose your neck more to her, bruising her lips back into it. you bucked your hips against nothing on the seat and she glanced down, hand soothing you against your thigh.

“can i touch you there, pretty girl?” she asked, hand sliding across the thick band of your leggings. her pinky finger grazed over your mound as she stroked you just briefly and you shivered, nodding. “fuck. i need you to say the words, babe. don’t wanna take anything from you that you’re not ready to give.” she was stern all of a sudden, commanding and kind all at the same time the way ellie had always been. it was comforting, your ellie was going to make you feel good.

“want you to touch me ellie. need you to teach me.” you whimpered, eyes glossy with need and glancing between hers.

“alright. alright, i got you.” she dropped another kiss to your mouth before leaning back to look at what she was doing. “‘m gonna take these off okay, baby? just get them out the way.” she muttered, the desperation slipping through in her own voice ever so slightly before she checked herself, gaining better control over her demeanour.

you helped her pull off your leggings, ellie gently easing you to lie down on the couch, leaning on her elbow laying beside you as she shield you from the horrors on the forgotten about movie on screen.

“these are pretty, you had plans to get me in your pants tonight huh?” she joked, running her finger lightly over the waistband of your lacey pink panties. you felt your body flush in light embarrassment, knowing she was totally onto you. you had infact worn your best pair, unsure of what might happen.

“no.” you hid your nervous giggle into your hands and she nudged them away with her chin, rewarding you with more kisses.

“its okay, i like ‘em. they suit you. plus i can’t say i wasn’t thinking about it.” she praises, pushing your tshirt up to grope your soft skin once more. “you ever touch yourself before?” her question catches you off guard and your breath hitches in your throat, thighs tensing a little which she ignores. “s’alright you can tell me. our secret.” she nudges her nose against yours as her fingers dip into your lace waistband, pulling out again to tease you.

“i’ve… tried. just don’t know what m’doing.” you shiver, eyes screwed shut in concentration, her hand setting your skin alight as she continually draws near where you need her.

“poor thing.” she tuts, hand sliding up your thigh to bend your knee, pulling your legs wider open. you feel your drenched folds part and you swear to god you hear a wet sound at the action, a tribute to how fucking turned on you were. you swallow thickly, and ellie kisses your throat. “you’re cute, always wanted to ask you that actually. used to think about you doin’ it, all alone in your room. figured one day you’d come knocking at my door beggin’ me for help. that day never came, you really toughed it out hm?” she was cooing at you, and you felt ashamed at how hard your chest was rising and falling, eyes fixated on her hand stroking your inner thigh.

“mmph— wanted to. wan’ed your help, els.” you whimper and she responds with a hard wet kiss on your cheek.

“and look at us now. see where using your words gets you, huh?” she teased. her hand cupped your mound finally and you sucked in breath, the pressure just enough to make your clit pulse beneath the indirect touch. you rocked your hips into her hand through your underwear, the friction of the lace burning against your button making you sob. “yeah? haven’t even gotten started on you yet, baby.” she digs her fingers in slightly, sliding them up to rub your clit in generous circles. you release a clear moan, grabbing her arm and digging your nails into her tattoo.

“th—feels good, ellie.” you whine and she smiles, nudging your head aside so she could kiss your neck again. “that was definitely the plan.” she mumbles jokingly against your skin.

you huff out in frustration at her teasing. “stop.”

she lifts her head to look at you, eyes dancing between your own. “stop what, touching you?” her fingers slow their motions.

“no!” your brows furrow desperately, bucking into her hand. “stop teasing me. be nice.” you pout, emotions sky rocketed from the vulnerable position she had you in. she smiled sympathetically, her fingers skilfully pull your panties to the side, digits swiping through your wetness. she smirks once more as your eyelashes flutter at the sensation.

“i dunno, think you like my teasing. sure does make you wet.” she closes in on you, latching her lips to yours once more as she pushes her fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the way you jolt against her. “see, i can be nice.” she mutters, circling your clit again, she swallows your moans, dropping her tongue into your mouth and letting it swirl around. she continued to please you, and you felt a growing ache — lower down, where your hole was. it pulsed and clenched around nothing as she gave all her attention to your clit.

“m—more, please.” you swallow thickly, the fast circles on your clit slowing.

“yeah? you enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” she kissed the corner of your mouth making you nod.

“you’re so, mmh, so good at this.” you whimper and she feels smug— knowing no one else could ever know your body like she would. her middle finger hooked round, pushing ever so gently against the gummy walls around your hole. she massaged it, easing your tension slightly and you bit your lip needily, eyes trained on hers as she watched your every move and reaction. she began pushing her finger in slightly, watching the way your body tensed and then relaxed, expression melting as your brows furrowed and your eyes fluttered closed.

“fuck.” she whispered harshly, tearing her eyes away to look down at her finger disappearing inside you. you were tight, and she didn’t want to jump the gun but the thought of you squeezing around her strap had her breathless. “y’need to relax for me, pretty girl.” her free hand stroked your lower tummy, soothing you. you’d clenched around her finger so hard that she could barely move it. “m’not goin’ anywhere. that’s it, there you go.” she praised as you willed yourself to unclench, a whimper at your efforts leaving you.

she massaged the gummy warm walls inside you, watching the way just one finger had you falling apart, sobbing into her mouth as you caught the rhythm, grinding against her hand. “good, yeah. you’re taking it so good babe. my good girl, aren’t you? always been my good girl.” she kissed your forehead, another finger prodding at your entrance. you whine at the intrusion but welcome it anyway, only clenching hard once you’ve swallowed her up to the knuckles. your toes clench at the fullness, along with everything else. her palm that had been knocking against your clit with each movement was making it all too much, and suddenly you could barely breathe.

you sucked in air, overwhelmed by the feeling. “ellie.” you gasped and she was cupping the back of your neck with her free hand, the other fingers stilled inside you.

“look at me, look at me.” she demand quickly and casually, your hazy eyes landing on hers. “breathe, baby i know it’s a lot. i know.” you let the panic wash past you as you slow your breathing, wide eyes stuck on her’s like they were your life line. “there. you’re so fucking good. just be calm, let it come to you.” she kisses your cheek and you nod, eyes fluttering closed again as you nod. her fingers start to move, slow and you moan, free and unabashed. “good girl, baby.”

her fingers curl up, and after a while of doing this they come across a soft spot— one that makes you cry. “oh, gosh— ellie!” you hiccup, tearful and desperate now bucking against her hand.

“right there?” her voice is calm, raspy and low in her throat as she looks straight at you, brows raised in almost sympathy.

“yeah—but— s’too much i feel like— g’nna pee!” you squeal in humiliation and she hides the chuckle that nearly breaks out of her because it wasn’t the time.

“i know angel, s’intense isn’t it? but it’s not pee. i promise you. just let go okay? when you’re ready j’st… j’st fucking let me have it, yeah?” her whisper gets desperate again and it makes you buck even harder against her hand— fingers pressing hard against your spot again. almost immediately, you’re tipping over the edge and seeing stars, brows furrowed and jaw dropped. ellie keeps up her pace, feeling like she could cum herself just from watching you lose it, clenching and squelching around her fingers. “good girl. good fucking girl. look so pretty cumming for me, that’s it.” she encourages through grit teeth, talking you through it. you can barely hear her, white noise deafening you as you hit your euphoria.

it becomes too sensitive too fast and you’re fumbling at her wrist to stop her. she does, of course and she’s letting you breathe right into her mouth— swallowing the pants and catching kisses where she can. years of waiting to touch you, and it was better than she ever could have imagined. despite the sensitivity, you whine pathetically when she pulls her fingers out, her head pointing down to look at the mess you’d made. even in the low light she can see your slick coating her hand and your inner thighs, and if you weren’t so out of breath you might be embarrassed. “god damn.” she chuckled and your eyes flicker open, demure and sweet as ever. she brings two fingers to her lips, oh-so-casually sucking the juices off them with a grateful hum. “taste as good as you fuckin’ look.” she compliments and your lips part slightly, invitingly. she brings them to your mouth now and you welcome them inside, sleepily suckling the remainder of your flavour off them. “shit.” she puffs out a breath, shaking her head. how had she bagged someone so sexy again?

“than—k’you ellie.” you garble around her fingers, greedily savouring the slick on your tongue as she watched, entranced.

“anytime, babe.” she huffs out. “no really. any time.” she reiterates, widening her eyes making you giggle.

you weren’t sure how great of a student you were, but you knew ellie was a damn good teacher.

♡

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams drabble #ellie tlou2 smut

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happiest-hotch · 10 months

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OMG please write about married!Hotch x reader going to a club tearing it up on the dance floor for a BAU night out, and an older Jack happens to be there maybe with his girlfriend and he’s mortified seeing his parents really getting down?

i would dance all over this man

Nights out with the BAU have never gotten less fun. Even as team members changed and through the years you and Aaron were away from the team, first in WITSEC then just to take a break. The plan formulated during your months together in hiding had been to wait until Jack was at college before going back to work

Hanging out at the regular bar was a sign nothing had changed in a decade.

After finishing probably the roughest case you've experienced since you rejoined the team, a team night out was needed, so you happily join Penelope in her mission to drag everyone out.

These days, Aaron doesn't need much convincing. He's more casual after WITSEC, and letting loose a little around the team isn't the worst thing in the world. It probably helps that he's not the boss anymore, and your unit chief also isn't opposed to letting her hair down.

He's only a few drinks in when you're able to convince him to come and dance. Maybe there's some using how much he loves you, but he doesn't protest.

It's hot and sweaty on the dance floor, and you're in a less-than-professional amount of clothing, dancing up on your husband like you're 24.

Aaron keeps his hands firmly on your hips, swaying to the music with you, but what's most sinful is his lips against your neck, very visible to everyone else, and the hard-on in his pants which thankfully remains unnoticed by anyone who's not pressed as hard against him as you are.

Penelope leans over to speak to you, or yell, thanks to how loud the bass is. "He's going to pull a muscle if he keeps dancing like that!" She jokes.

You giggle as you let him spin you around so you're face to face. It's gotten much more heated, and there's no doubt you're grinding provocatively against each other.

You hold his strong forearms, leaning up to whisper something downright filthy in his ear, but he talks first. "Jack."

You chuckle, grimacing. "That's not my idea of dirty talk."

"No." He shakes his head before nodding across the room. "Jack's here."

You pull away from your husband quickly, following his glance across the room before you catch his son. "What's Jack doing here?" You ask in shock. It's definitely a compromising position to be caught in with his dad.

"I don't know," Aaron says, taking hold of your hand and pulling you away from the dance floor and towards his son.

You briefly wonder if it's more or less awkward to acknowledge that he's seen you all over each other. Ignoring it might mean you can possibly look Jack in the eyes again at some point in the next ten years.

There's a girl next to him and you guess it's who he had said he was bringing home to meet you and Aaron during summer vacation. Her dress is probably not what she was expecting to be wearing during a round of meet-the-parents.

"That was awful." Jack deadpans, exactly like his father. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm going to burn that out of my memory."

"What are you doing here?" Aaron asks, ignoring the comments that you're struggling not to laugh at.

"Thought you guys were still on a case," Jack explains. "I didn't think I'd catch you dry-humping in a club."

You let out a chuckle while Aaron shakes his head. "Don't say that." He scolds weakly.

"I am so sorry you had to meet them like this." Jack turns to the girl next to him and says.

You offer out your hand to shake hers. "I'm Y/n, and I promise we're not always like this."

Aaron shakes her hand as well, introducing himself. "Yeah, usually our son has far better manners and introduces us to people."

"Usually, my parents aren't engaging in foreplay in the club." Jack teases you both.

You know how to get him back, and you click your tongue. "You don't know that."

It makes both boys' eyes widen while Jack's girlfriend laughs slightly, and the tension is loosened.

"Should we not mention this tomorrow?" She offers, speaking more confidently now that she can read the situation as humorous.

"Deal." You agree for both you and Aaron. "We should go."

"Home to sleep." Jack finishes the sentence for you, raising his eyebrows like a parent would do to their child, rather than the other way around.

Aaron does something you don't expect, frowning. "No promises."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb

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love-takes-work · 5 months

Text

I've seen a fair number of people interpret Rebecca Sugar's (and the Crew's) decision to put Ruby in a dress as subversive, and I want to discuss why that feels like a clear miss to me.

Every time--every single time--I've heard Rebecca Sugar talk about the queer relationships on this show, it comes with this expression of wholesomeness, and often glazed with a sheen of wistfulness, flavored something like "I needed this as a child and young person, and I didn't have it." Much of Rebecca Sugar's work to bring this wedding (and other unapologetic queer relationships) to the screen was framed as an emergency--as in, we HAVE to get this out there for those kids we used to be, because we know they're drowning.

Yes, it's funny sometimes when people make jokes about Sugar deliberately "adding more gay" or "making it gayer" as a big eff-you to the people who spoke against it, but that doesn't sit right from where I'm standing. It took so much strength (and resulted in so much battle damage) to fight that fight, yes. But from everything I can see from the interviews and conversations I've seen and read, this wasn't served up in a "ha-HA, take THAT!" kind of way. These characters having these kinds of relationships should have been a non-issue, and the fact that their very wholesome kids'-show wedding and very sweet kiss and very adorable love for each other was seen as Political when it should have been just two characters in love is so sad to me.

I've seen dozens of people suggest that Ruby is in a dress and Sapphire is in a suit "to fuck with the bigoted censors in other countries" or "to give the finger to gender roles," but again, I think it is simpler and sweeter than that. Rebecca's said that Ruby in a dress is how she feels in a dress. Celebration and exploration of feminine-coded stuff felt wrong to Rebecca for a long time, like it wasn't hers, because she wasn't really a woman and didn't want it forced on her. As a result she was robbed of all the beauty that should have been a non-issue, from what TV shows and toys she was supposed to enjoy as a kid to what kind of person she was supposed to marry and what she should wear as an adult.

Ruby never got a choice about how she looked really. Once she got to choose her presentation for a significant event, this is what she chose. It means so much more to see that than to construct it primarily as a reactionary measure, as if it would somehow foil the sinister censors in more homophobic countries (who, incidentally, are not therefore forced to show Ruby in a dress even though they tried to hide that Ruby was a "she" or that she was in a romantic relationship with another "she"; y'all, they just don't show the episode).

We see plenty of other examples of gender-role-related expectations being casually stepped on and squashed, like when they took the trouble to give traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine "clothes" to some watermelons to make the audience think there was a husband and wife watermelon only to have the wife be the warrior and the husband stay home with the child. With stuff like that, yeah, sure, maybe it's designed to make you think "oh isn't that very feminist of them!" Or maybe it's more "well why do I see this as a 'reversal' when it's just a thing that happened?" This show is full of ladyish beings who fight and have power. And as for Steven. . . .

Nobody has negative reactions onscreen (or even particularly confused reactions) when Steven wears traditionally feminine clothes, and it is (of course) also not presented as a "boy in a dress gag"--it's not supposed to be funny. When they go all in slathering Steven in literal princess tropes throughout the final act of Season 5, we understand that it's because the powerful Diamonds expect him to be Pink Diamond, not because the show is trying to girlify him or embarrass him or even make the audience think positive thoughts about boys in girls' clothes. It's more neutral than that in my interpretation: "these are literally just pieces of cloth, and while some of them have meaning, they don't inherently have a gender." I don't see this as transgressive. It's just in a world where putting on what you want to wear doesn't HAVE to be a political statement. (Though obviously it CAN be, and plenty of people wear a variety of clothes as a fuck-you to whoever they want to give the finger to. I just don't see that as happening here.)

Don't get me wrong; Rebecca Sugar certainly knew about the politics (intimately) and has lived at many of their intersections. She was not ignorant of how queer people are seen in this world. She was silenced as a bisexual person because her identity supposedly didn't matter if she was with a man and planned to be with that same man forever. She was shunted into "omg a woman did this!" categories over and over again, which she wore uneasily as a nonbinary person while accepting that part of who we are is how the world sees us. But what is it like if everything someone like her embraces is seen as a statement synonymous with "fuck you" to someone else?

She is married to a person who happens to be a man and happens to be Black. Her relationship isn't a "statement" about either of those aspects of his existence; her love is simply something that is. She is Jewish working in a society that's largely Christian. Her cultural perspective to NOT center her cartoon around Christian holidays and Christian morals; her choices to make an alternate world in this specific way is simply something that is. Her queer perspective as a nonbinary bisexual person has helped inform the Gems' radical philosophy of "what if we learned to explore and define ourselves instead of doing the 'jobs' we're assigned and being told it's our nature?" Her decision to include queer people in a broadly queer cartoon isn't designed PRIMARILY as a battle against baddies, or to drown out all the relentless straightness, or to deliciously get our queer little paws all over their kids' TV. It's an act of love.

So this is just to say that though I DO understand that sometimes subversion and intentional transgression are very necessary, I do not think that's the HEART of what's going on at this Gem wedding. We got a wholesome marriage scene between two of the most lovely little flawed-but-still-somehow-perfect characters, and I very much want to see their choices as being about them. About how Ruby feels in a dress. About how Sapphire feels about not having to always wear a dress. About them incorporating a symbol of their union into their separate lives so they can have some independence in their togetherness. About them celebrating their love by letting Steven wipe his schmaltz all over them.

There are many choices in the show that ARE carefully constructed to counter existing narratives, you know, giving the Crystal Gems' only boy all the healing, pink, flower imagery; having a single-sex species that's ladyish with all the members going by "she"; featuring many nurturing male characters who cry and cook and raise kids without mothers; pairing multiple fighty ladies with gentler guys; and importantly, intentionally loading up the show with stories, characters, and imagery any gender will find appealing despite being tasked with expectations to pander to the preteen boy demographic.

But it's very important to me that the inclusion of queer characters and the featuring of their choices be seen primarily as a loving act, and way way less of a "lol screw the bigots." I want our stories to be about us. Yes, I know it's a necessary evil that sometimes our stories are also about fighting Them. But every time I see someone say they put Ruby in the dress to "piss off the homophobes" or "stump the censors" I feel a little gross. Like the time I picked out an outfit I loved and my mom said I only dressed in such an obnoxious way to upset her, and I was baffled because my aesthetic choices, my opinions, my choices had nothing to do with her. Yet they were framed like I chose these clothes primarily to cause some kind of petty harm to her, when not only was it not true but I was not even that kind of person who would gloat over intentionally irritating someone.

The queerness of this show isn't a sneaky, underhanded act trying above all to upset a bigot or celebrate someone's homophobic fury. It lives for itself. Its existence is about itself. It's so we can see ourselves in a show, and it's so people who aren't queer or don't have those experiences can see that we exist, we participate, we want very similar things, and definitely are focusing way more about celebrating our love at our own weddings rather than relishing the thought of bigots tearing their hair out and hating us.

It's dangerous to turn every act of our love into a deliberate movement in a battle strategy when their weddings just get to be weddings.

I think there’s this idea that that [queer characters] is something that applies or should be only discussed with adults that is completely wrong. And I think when you realize that talking to kids about heteronormativity is just like air that you breathe all the time, it’s kind of amazing that that is not true in any other capacity. I think if you wait to tell kids, to tell queer youth that it matters how they feel or that they are even a person, then it’s going to be too late! You have to talk about it—you have to let it be what it gets to be for everyone. I mean, like, I think about, a lot of times I think about sort of fairy tales and Disney movies and the way that love is something that is ALWAYS discussed with children. And I think also there’s this idea that’s like, oh, we should represent, you know, queer characters that are adults, because there are adults that are queer, and you should know that’s something that is happening in the adult world, but that’s not how those films or those stories are told to children. You’re told that YOU should dream about love, about this fulfilling love that YOU’RE going to have. […] The Prince and Snow White are not like someone’s PARENTS. They’re something you want to be, that you are sort of dreaming of a future where you will find happiness. Why shouldn’t everyone have that? It’s really absurd to think that everyone shouldn’t get to have that! --Rebecca Sugar

#steven universe #ruby and sapphire #rebecca sugar #queer relationships #long post #myblog

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lust4lore · 4 months

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ARFARFARF so down bad for brattamer n casually dominant(by nature) kinda dark rafe n bimbo reader🤭🤭 imagine reader talkin to a random stranger in a bar or club or whateva she thinks its js a friendly interaction n shit after that rafes js there thinking 150 ways how to kill the guy for flirting wit his pretty little thing then she says it was a nice friendly convo n hes like whst???? yeah ahaha.... im obsessed pls forgive me

OH THIS GOT THE JUICES FLOWINGGG

the creative juices. get your head out of the gutter. that being said, thank you for your request! i hope i did it justice

CW: controlling!rafe, mildly dark!rafe, mmm kinda breaking my own guidelines w this one but VERY slight domestic violence? you get the point, manipulation

rafe cameron likes pretty things. so much, in fact, that he had known he was done for the second he saw you. you were cute— innocent— in a pink silk dress, ribbon in your hair and a sweet smile tugging at the corners of rosy lips. he just had to have you, and a year later, he did.

another well known fact about rafe cameron, though, is that he doesn’t share. and so, imagine his surprise when he comes back from the bathroom to see some man talking to you at the bar. he watches you for a moment, the rage settling in his veins enough to get his jaw clenching as you bat your eyelashes and giggle at whatever stupid joke that bastard just told you, pretty lips sucking at your straw as his gaze flickers down to your chest.

now that has rafe seeing red. he comes up behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist and causing you to slightly stumble back at the force of it. “hey, baby, who’s this?” he asks, fingers lightly twitching against your stomach. if you’re aware of the waves of fury radiating from him, you do nothing to show it, turning around in his hold with a naive smile and bright eyes. “rafey! this is alex, he wants to be friends,” you tell him, gesturing towards that sick perver— alex— behind you. “oh, does he?” he asks, but rafe isn’t talking to you, not really. if looks could kill, your new ‘friend’ would be further than six feet under the ground. “y’know, alex, i think my girl has enough friends already,” he squeezes your side, glancing down at you. “don’t you think, sweetheart?” the grasp he has on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your skin in a way that’ll probably bruise later.

you tilt your head, a crease forming between your brows as you lower your voice. “rafe, what- ow!” you yelp quietly as his iron grip bores into your ribs. he pays you no mind, though, still fixing alex with a chilling, eerily calm smile. “shit, man, i’m sorry, i’ll- m’gonna head out now,” the shorter boy mutters, looking intimidated as he staggers backward and rushes out the door. rafe gives a quiet chuckle at that and one of his hands grabs your wrist, yanking you closer. tears prick your eyes as he nearly cuts off the circulation in your hand, leaning in close to your face. “the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? letting other guys flirt with you like that?”

you let out a whimper at his harsh words, a tear rolling down your pretty face. “he was jus’ being nice, i-” you whisper, and a hint of satisfaction cuts through his anger. look at you, you need him, who else’ll be there to protect you from all of those gross guys trying to get a piece of his sweet girl? he sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears off of your cheeks. “c’mon, doll, you know better, did you see the way he was lookin’ at you?” you just look up at him, tears still sitting in your waterline as he presses a kiss to your trembling lips. “i didn’t mean to make you upset, a’ight? m’just trying to protect you,” he murmurs, and you instantly feel a little guilty for the way you reacted. “m’sorry, i didn’t know he was-” but rafe shushes you, stroking your cheek gently.

“s’okay, baby, you’ll remember who you belong to when we get home,”

#𓇼 indigo writes!#𓇼 blurburburb #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #rafe obx

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usedpidemo · 6 months

Text

Shangri-la (Oh My Girl Yooa)

Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.

—————

“What the?”

What welcomes you inside the bedroom takes you by complete surprise. It’s the kind that leaves you with more questions than answers. She had been very vague about the whole ordeal, skittering around the details. she was completely straightforward about one thing: to get fucked. That’s the main selling point.

Her inviting tone, her sultry expression, her lust—it’s still freshly imprinted on your mind from an hour ago. You’ve heard those words—their many variations—a handful of times, but hers is by far the most enticing and the sweetest sounding:

“Wanna have sex with me tonight?”

—————

Admittedly, it was never on your bucket list to attend a concert, let alone a group who sings primarily in foreign. It was supposed to be just a kind gesture for a roommate.

He’s your resident nerdy K-pop fan, the kind that gets bullied in real life and on the internet. He’s the full package; posters on the bedroom wall, a book full of photocards, and a shelf of albums and lightsticks which he considers as his sacred temple. You were never meant to go beyond a toe’s dip into this unhealthy obsession he’s engrossed himself in; completing his homework was enough exposure.

If there was one takeaway from your observations, it was quite obvious: the girls are really hot. And that’s all that you needed to convince yourself to go.

Besides, you were his roommate—and his only friend. Out of the kindness of your heart, you have an obligation to be there for him, at least until you graduate.

For the most part, the show was entertaining. Again, the girls were pretty attractive, and they were dressed in outfits that flaunted their bodies exceptionally well. Your friend’s relentless screaming accustomed you to the crowd’s energy, which was no joke. Even in a small, intimate venue, there were several moments where you felt that the place might collapse off the audience’s deafening shouts alone. At least you came prepared with noise canceling earplugs.

It’s not a huge surprise when he suddenly vanishes after the show. He’s been in and out of sight the whole time; getting freebies, merch shopping, taking numerous bathroom breaks, to the point where he just straight up forgets he left his phone with you before running off again.

To make things worse, it’s the dying moments of the night, when everyone in the VIP section, the two of you included, gets to greet the members for only a brief passing moment. He’d been acting like his entire life has been building to this moment, completely neglecting the fact you were his ride home.

Of course you’re not entirely sure about who’s who in this group. Six equally pretty girls, all wearing the exact same shirt and short skirt combination, down to the colors, with equally warm smiles. You didn’t have enough time to familiarize yourself with each of their names; the internet in the area has been failing you for hours. The staff was strict with phones the closer you approached them. It didn’t help that everyone screamed through their introductions, too.

Unsurprisingly, nothing substantial came of your interaction. A series of repetitive, awkward bows and near-silent whispers of “hello.” You’ve been putting off Duolingo for months, and it showed. It should have been a forgettable affair, considering the hundreds of people they’re greeting just from tonight’s queue alone. It’s not like you particularly stand out from the rest of the crowd; a casual shirt and jeans combo that’s indistinguishable from the dozens in attendance, and you don’t have anything on you that screams ‘overly dedicated fan.’

So when you’re pulled aside by the same staff closely watching the queue during the meet and greet, asked to head backstage as part of some secret lucky draw, you’re not surprised. There’s an age-old superstition that states that you’re more likely to meet celebrities the less you’re familiar with them. It rings true, and you have first hand proof.

You’re led to this singular door in what’s basically an unused narrow hallway. The kind that criminals use to trap their victims. Definitely safe. The staff member instructs you to head in before leaving you there alone. Nothing more, nothing less.

Instead of your friend, you find one of the members you just met, waiting on the other side. You have so many questions, but she she gives you another to entertain:

“You wanna have sex with me tonight?”

Much to her amusement ,you’re taken aback. At first, you’d think she was pulling some kind of prank. By the way she smiles and laughs, it’s a reaction all too familiar to her, like this is some kind of cliche. It’s not a surprise to hear those words from any girl, knowing your experiences at college parties and bars, but from a traveling singer? Simply put, it’s quite ridiculous.

“You’re joking right?” you say, hand close to the door you just entered, ready to make a beeline for it. You glance around the enclosed, compact space, searching for any possible hidden cameras recording the scene.

She shakes her head, taking a step forward. “Not at all. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Do you do this all the time?” you ask, her reply not easing you in the slightest. Your hand inches a little closer to the door. It’s not like she’s going to hurt you; if anything, her thin figure’s probably what should worry her if you dare to even breathe heavily on her, let alone touch.

“Yeah. Every stop. You look really cute,” she says, reaching her hand out to you. “And you look like you can give me a good time tonight.”

There’s something flattering about her words, coming from an idol singer, complimenting you that hits a chord harder than other girls. Her sincere tone, doll-like eyes twinkling, and expressive lips certainly help. It’s alluring—devastating—to a casual like you; how much more to someone who worships her.

Then, here comes the killing blow:

“So, what’s it going to be?” She kisses you on the chin, wrapping her arms around your neck. It’s not suffocating, not in the slightest, but you might as well be entangled by them. Her eyes, sharp and fiery, are daring you to say otherwise to her seemingly coarse question.

Leaning your head against her shoulder, her scent and soft skin prove to be intoxicating. You can’t get enough. That hand you’ve been pressing on the door is no longer there; it’s coiled around her back, taking inventory of her slim waist and arched back, then teasing at the fabric of her shirt. Even if she wasn’t the girl you just watched perform on stage, she’s too gorgeous to turn down. And it isn’t like you’ll find your friend, anyway. Perhaps this is your way of getting back at him for being insufferable all throughout.

“Here?” you ask, whispering in her ear, playing with fire.

She holds you by the cheek, tilting an eyebrow. Shaking her head, she drags her tongue on the ridge of your ear. “Somewhere nicer.”

—————

It’s only you and her in the backseat of one of their vans, windows tinted and the front closed off that it’s safe to assume that the driver can’t hear you—perfectly convenient. He probably doesn’t know you’re even there.

It’s inside the car that you finally become familiar with each other. YooA, or as she’d prefer you to call her, Shiah, and you have this light bulb moment where you put it all together. You bring up this collection of photocards in your friend’s book holder; you recognize her face on some of the cards. She laughs. Heartily. Her face lights up, honored at the thought, and it’s a sincere look. Other artists would simply wave it off and move on, but she appears intrigued by the effort to obsess over her.

She calls it a bias, and you call it an obsession. In the other’s eyes, you’re both strange. To you, it’s unhealthy and strange; to her, it’s part of the appeal, part of the culture.

So it’s all the more surprising when you admit you’re simply there because of him, that you would have looked the other way otherwise. And in response, she has this warm, wholesome smile; she doesn’t appear offended by your candidness. You don’t know a thing about them, other than they’re delicious eye candy.

“So this is your first foray into K-pop? I hope it was a good one,” she says, flashing you a cute pout. “That means a lot for all of us.”

Yeah, you nod, your eyes wandering down her slim body, draped in darkness, only brought to the light by passing street lamps. You notice how slender and lanky she is. It doesn’t change the appeal; she’s unreal. “I should go more often if that’s the case.”

Shiah chuckles. “You didn’t pay, then. I bet you’re getting more than what he bargained for.”

To which you nod, barely holding in a particularly uncharacteristic grin. She catches it. An opportunity to twist the knife.

It’s a casual affair when you reach the hotel. There’s a surprising lack of fanfare upon your arrival. You assume idols have as much popularity as any other celebrity, but you’re both left alone—and without security, walking past the front desk without a care or a question. Tension gradually builds as you climb floor after floor, until you step out that elevator and into her room, away from prying eyes.

What welcomes you inside Shiah’s bedroom catches you off-guard.

“What the?”

The person sitting at the center of the bed turns to your direction, shouts out your name. You can recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hey! There you are!”

You immediately turn to Shiah, who replies gleefully, “Of course I knew. Your friend told me everything. He wanted me to invite you along.”

Forget that your friend orchestrated the whole ordeal. It’s the fact that he wants you to join him in a threesome. You expected him to be greedy with the rare opportunity to have a beautiful idol all to himself, but instead, he’s somehow still involving you in the action. There’s a lot to take in, and you don’t exactly know where to start.

“Is this even allowed?” you ask, unsure of your place in this room. You’re slowly soaking up the scenery; none of it makes any sense. Scattered on the bedroom floor is Your friend’s shirt and his bag, freebies and personal belongings alike,, while Shiah casually saunters around the mattress, gradually removing pieces of jewelry from herself and placing them on the nightstand.

“Of course, dude!” says your friend. His energy hasn’t waned in the slightest. You’re amazed his voice hasn’t changed at all, let alone his ability to speak. He had been screaming beside you for the entirety of the show, you’d probably go deaf because of him if not for your earplugs. “I wouldn’t have asked her if she wasn’t allowed to, or if she didn’t feel it.”

“He’s right,” adds Shiah, unbuttoning her jeans. Looking at her again, she grabs your attention with the casual stripping of her pants, pooled around her ankles, leaving only pale colored panties that leave nothing to the imagination. “Plus, I haven’t tried having a threesome before, and tonight seemed like a good idea to try that.”

Surely, you’ve heard weird things before, but none were as out of pocket as this.

“C’mere dude,” says your friend, gesturing to you to take the spot beside him on the bed. “We’re going to fuck an idol tonight. And not just any idol, my freaking bias!”

Your eyes continue to linger on her. Shiah, now undoing her top, candidly tossing them aside. The one time you regret not having your phone on hand to capture without obstruction. Her tits are bite-sized handfuls, nipples firm and on full display, and her figure is so paper thin, you’ll break her when you hold her by her ridiculous proportions. The only thing missing is some fragile warning label plastered on her skin as a reminder to handle her with care.

This is the most awkward you’ve been with your friend since you first met, when he first moved into your dorm. Seated on the mattress, you’re anxious of what’s about to happen. You worry she won’t be able to handle you two; he worries that he won’t be able to ruin her to the fullest extent.

She meets you at the center in nothing but panties. She scans you both from head to toe, and notices your contrasting expressions. Facing you, she says, “Hey. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t confident about the idea. If you don’t make me unable to walk after tonight, I’m gonna be quite disappointed. So chin up.”

Reassuring of a tone it may sound, it doesn’t ease your worry even a little. It doesn’t discourage her either; it’s part of the challenge.

She drops to her knees, and that’s when you come around on the idea. Her fingers make work of your pants; yours first, then your friend’s. With eagerness written on her face, your hard cocks hang between her tiny face. Pausing, undecided, she takes a moment to think which one to satisfy. The way she eyes both yours, then your friend’s—you can tell how hungry she is: how she wants them shoved inside her mouth, down her throat, taking all that delicious load. If she could fit both at once, she certainly would.

“Which one should I take first, boys?” she asks, innocuous sounding, her doll-like eyes pleading up with a playful pout. Knowing full well she already has this whole thing already planned out. You and your friend swallow hard, telepathically aligned, thinking of the same idea, based on the rather silent response.

Shiah has your eyes fluttering, hands already gripped to the edge of the bed, lips letting out a string of delightful moans. It sounds like relief, agony, and ecstasy all at once. She’s leaving soft kisses on your tip, her tongue running circling around your length, and her fingers slowly pumping at your base. All your doubts and hesitations, gone in an instant. The very few glimpses you catch of her, her eyes speak to you, staring, telling you to take it all in.

She feels so good, handles you deftly, as if she’s already acquainted with your cock, even though it’s the first time. Pushing all the sensitive, perfect spots and getting you into a steady rhythm.

“See? I told you it was gonna be—fine—fuck—”

Your friend folds just as quickly as you do, if not faster. His words, instantly reduced to echoed grunts, groans, and curses, his hand palming Shiah’s scalp. She’s focused, taking turns with each cock, kissing and teasing you both with the prospect of shoving it down her needy, thirsty throat. One hand on your dick and the other on his, stroking you at near-synchronized tempo, then vice versa. You wonder exactly why she’s even hesitant and nervous about taking two at once when she’s clearly a natural at satisfying cocks.

She’s well aware that she has only one mouth to fulfill her craving for cock. There’s a look of regret every time she stops sucking one cock in place of the other. It’s almost as if she’s failing, even though the pleasure-ridden expressions on your faces say otherwise. “I hope this is good enough,” she frowns, taking a moment to plant another direct kiss on each cockhead. “I wish I could fit you both in my mouth, but I—”

“Shhh.” Your friend interjects, tugging harshly at Shiah’s dark locks, then rubbing his hand around her forehead. “You’re doing so fucking well, so much better than we hoped—”

Suddenly, he finds himself slowly crumbling. Precum coating around her dainty fingers, while he loses grip on his consciousness, lying flat on the bed. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the very short time you’ve had Shiah on her knees, it’s that she’s particularly gentle. You can feel she’s not going to ruin you instantly and that she’s nowhere close to crushing your cock, unlike some of the girls you’ve known in the past.

This is all new to your friend, after all. It shouldn’t be surprising.

Still, she continues to pleasure you both, taking a moment to slip his erection inside her throat, slurping and swallowing his cock whole. Her eyes instantly slam shut, mumbling a songful hum, finally soaking in the taste after intentionally restraining herself from her lust. Turning to your side, your friend clearly can’t take her; his mouth agape, his chest heaving, breathing heavily, his eyes widely staring at the ceiling in a useless effort to distract himself. In his mind, she’s relentless, overwhelming, cruel.

Her eyes slide in your direction, brows furrowed, apologetic. You shake your head, smile lightly, perfectly understanding of the situation. It’s not that she’s ignoring you; her other hand’s pressing on the base of your cock, down to the underside, pressing on your balls. She’s already left her mark on you even though she’s doing the bare minimum. The layer of precum on her fingers is clear proof. That should be more than enough.

And when you find your friend completely unresponsive, breathing through his mouth, you tilt your head at an angle and make this poor sleeping impression—something he hasn’t had in over 24 hours. It’s the command that causes Shiah to slip his cock from her mouth with a silent pop, his dick throbbing with her spit dripping from the tip. Her focus turns over to you; her eyes meeting yours, her hands pressing on each knee, and your fingers brushing loose strands of hair aside to see her pretty face, flushed but flawless. It’s now just down to you two.

She gives your head a playful swirl, and you lift your brows in approval, subtly biting at the lip to show her you like it. Her eyes lock in, scanning through each subdued wince, waiting for the go ahead.

It’s the slightest head motion that nearly ends you. You’re uncertain if you even said yes or no.

Shiah looks so much better with your cock in her mouth than anyone else’s. She knows, too. You pause to take the sight in—your length buried deep in her mouth, occasionally poking her throat, her cheeks hollow, her eyes looking wide at you with a fiery glint, begging you to take her, use her, ruin her. You’re perfectly positioned to work her; your hand is palming the back of her head, giving her this assertive stare that appears demeaning, but you can tell she prefers to be seen that way. It would be criminal to have her on her knees and not have your way with her.

And you do just that.

You hold her still, using the little increments of strength to motion her into a bobbing motion. She surrenders herself into your control, moving her head back and forth with the grip of your hand. Like the swing of a pendulum, you watch your base disappear and appear between her lips. You’re nowhere close to burying yourself entirely in her mouth, but she feels so incredible, so intoxicating, she may as well be deepthroating you.

It’s not the firmness of her luscious lips kissing your cock nor her lewd expressions that shake you, but her suction. She hums this wistful note while sucking your cock—a song of satisfaction. In contrast to the steady rhythm you’re attempting to impose, she drags your length along her tongue, forcing you into this playful tug-of-war whenever you draw your cock back, directing where your cum should land. She envisions it: the notion of your hot load collected on her cheeks. Her fingers point where she wants them, using her pleading eyes and brows to entice you.

And you’re not going to deny her request. She’s too charming and expressive to turn down. Even more so when your cock is lodged between her lips.

You utter this particularly incomprehensible mix of a groan and a grumble while your throbbing cock unloads the warm cum she desires. Without wasting a single drop, she takes it all, puffing her cheeks with your seed while carefully pulling your cock out her mouth. Your hand is no longer resting on her head but rather around her shoulder and collarbones. She plays with the load in her mouth, gargling, swishing, before swallowing it all. Afterward, she sticks out her silky tongue, face completely flustered, showing you the aftermath: leftovers of your cum painting her mouth.

“God, Yoo—I mean, Shiah—” you breathe, lightly falling back on the bed as your legs go numb. Your flaccid cock isn’t enough to show how much she’s drained you in one fell swoop. “How are you so—”

“I told you I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t so confident about it,” she remarks, rising to her feet before pushing you down on the sheets, straddling herself on your lap. Her energy remains steadfast. It’s infectious. Winking and pouting, she adds, “Now fuck me till I can’t walk.”

You’re completely sold on the idea, but you can’t do it alone.

Pushing Shiah off you, you shake your friend back into consciousness. You’re holding her by the shoulders, giving her lips a quick kiss. A soft gesture telling her to be a tad patient. Her eyes clue you in; she’s dying to be fucked, to be used, to be ruined. Your friend looks around, feeling hazy, completely unaware of what transpired, even though it’s only been less than 10 minutes.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, still trying to make sense of things. The last thing he remembers is Shiah on her knees. Now he sees you and his bias in each other’s embrace. Surprisingly, he’s not fazed in the slightest. The bed’s tremors—rumblings—are good enough indicators.

You’re unable to completely look him in the eye, and you don’t know what to answer, so she does it for you: “Your friend blew a nice load inside my mouth. We were just about to have round two. Join us.”

To her amusement, the reply has you staring at her utterly gobsmacked. It’s not the fact that she’s telling it straight, with zero sugarcoating, but her candid, conversational delivery and deadpan expression, as if they’re close friends catching up on lost time. He doesn’t seem bothered, nor does he ask any further questions. Knowing him, he’d be disappointed if you didn’t.

Really, what’s there to question when given an opportunity to fuck an idol without any conditions or red tape. He’s not making the most of the moment as you have, and the hurried jump off the bed to take position behind her indicates he’s not going to waste any more time. You’re scared you might get into a confrontation over how you’ll take her.

“Say the word and I’ll move aside,” you tell him, calmly.

“Let me have her tight ass,” is the reply, straightforward. Chalk it up to tension, but there’s a hint of harshness in his voice, as though some bitterness is leaking. He subtly pulls her away from your side, prompting you to let him take full control.

You aren’t surprised at where he ends up taking her. The bed is the comfiest option, but in his mind, the safest and the most cliche. A shower to ease the tension and stress in the muscles—that’s a good one too, on top of having her possibly pressed against the panels and the idea of soaping her tits while fucking her in the wet. This luxurious suite, which feels like walking from the one end of a parking lot to the other on weary legs, has a handful of mirrors to watch her get railed on. None are as captivating and inviting as the biggest one—the large glass windows that overlook the city, lit up by lights from nearby skylines and the illumination from the living room.

He presses her tiny frame against the window, then on air, giving her tiny butt a firm slap. Followed by another. Something about Shiah with her back arched, yelping with each spank, arouses him. Her too. She whines, biting on her lip, hands trying to latch to anything. There’s plenty to claim—from her bite-sized chest, to her slinky waist, to her soiled panties. Something he slips down to her ankles.

In the moment, your friend doesn’t acknowledge you. He’s all up in her hair, licking the shell of ear, a set of clenched digits digging into her warmth. Her eyes fluttering, she whines, pressing a hand around his waist, mumbling, begging, “Fuck me, please, fuck me.”

You can tell she’s apologetic, wants to be punished and manhandled like a naughty girl. Your friend has this glare in his eyes—a look of hunger. His fingers pump away at her core, without care for pace or comfort, just the satisfaction of hearing her cries and the need for her to cum. Bumping her against the window, he’s kissing her, claiming her as his own. Red marks form everywhere on her neck, collarbones, and back. Her entire body. All his.

You let him. You watch. Not out of guilt, not out of arousal. It’s his moment.

He looks over his shoulder and finds you just watching. “C’mere,” he growls between muted groans, tone low. It should be awkward (it is) but all that tension disappeared the moment she got on her knees. Approaching the twosome in such a strange fashion, he continues to finger Shiah, shifting her away from the window, binding her from behind by one hand. He’s suppressing his tongue, teasing his cockhead against the entrance of her pussy, barely able to restrain himself.

When you’re in front of her again, you’re greeted by a hot mess. Her juices are dripping down her thighs, pooling around her feet. His coated fingers line around her warmth, around her tight hole. His lust is on full display, cussing out a storm about how incredibly wet and tight she is while she prepares herself to get fucked into oblivion. It’s not the first time you’ve heard him say these things; he talks a loud talk about how he’d fuck his biases in explicit detail, writes particularly concerning essays about the positions they’d be railed in, how they would cum, and how many times he would make them cum.

At the end of the day, it was none of your business.

And ultimately, he might have been onto something.

You let out this loud unsuppressed moan burying yourself inside her tight cunt. She’s suffocating, overwhelmingly tight—the kind of heat that can make you cum almost immediately. You’re still recovering from your first orgasm, putting you on the backfoot. Still, her walls are too inviting not to get hard again. Meanwhile, your friend, who’s been eager to fuck Shiah’s ass for the longest time, is in no rush. His cock is barely entering her tight hole, slowly easing himself inside her with deep breaths. He’s grabbing a handful of her flesh, openly moaning and grunting taking her.

“F-fuck, Yoo—” he mutters, grabbing at her petite cheeks with an ironclad grip. Pulling her closer to his body so his cock can split her in half. He’s growing greedy—and desperate.

Everything you’re doing to Shiah can be seen in the window’s reflection: you pounding into her tight cunt, your friend’s cock spearing her from behind, her body practically sandwiched between your twosome. The combined weight is more than capable of crushing her slim frame, her skin like tire marks on both your chests. Neither of you move with an understanding of working as a team, and it shows; your collective strokes are unsteady, erratic, chaotic.

This isn’t good for your back—at all. Shiah’s bent forward in part to your friend’s slow, deep thrusts into her delicious ass, rippling with each stroke. She’s clutching to your shoulders for support, screaming from the absolute depths of her lungs getting doubled up. The uncomfortable position is mostly clouded by the overwhelming sensation of your cocks tag teaming on her two sensitive holes. You’re leaning, steadily falling back. That inescapable warmth—that intoxicating heat—keeps you coming back for more, friction be damned.

God, Shiah’s pussy is so fucking perfect.

And that’s what you end up muttering. In an endless choir of ecstasy-charged moans, profanities, and wet sloppy slaps of skin against skin, you throw those words out to the wind. So good, so tight—those doubts you had entering the room, now just thoughts from yesterday. She’s everything you want in a satisfying fuck; your hands intertwined with her waist, rocking her frame with every plunge, savoring each entry into that needy womb.

It’s no surprise then that she cums so soon.

It’s been slowly building to this moment. The signs were there all along; the blink and you’ll miss it patch on her jeans, the phallic object in her purse, the wet puddle forming on her panties, the not so subtle gestures she’s giving fans between performances—she’s been desperate to cum on a cock and her wish can finally be granted.

In dramatic fashion, she’s all over you. Clinging to you like her lifeline, showing you how you’ve ruined her. Body trembling, legs quaking—the ripples send shockwaves through your body, also in the process of falling apart. Throwing out her hips, a new layer of juices coat both cocks, dripping to the floor. You’re there to break her fall, but you have nothing to stop yours.

Passing through deaf ears, her screams revert to soft pleas. “Cum, cum in me—please—fuck—” she whines in bursts, riding out her climax in waves, waiting for you two to join her over the edge. You’re preoccupied with the raging fire in your loins, restraining your urge to release your seed inside her needy cunt prematurely. At this point, you’re almost done, holding onto the last of your resolve not to spurt right then and there. The layer of her slick coating your cock doesn’t do you any favors, either.

Propping her body straight, your thrusts remain relentless. Steadied pace, at your own will, rocking her senseless—that’s how you want to finish inside her. You want to keep her in that position: cupping her tiny chest, wrapping an arm on the neck, resting a hand on your light shoulder. Shiah’s body is the perfect plaything.

All of that is too good to be true.

“Cumming, gonna cum—” you mutter, rather ashamedly, though you’re holding up better than anyone ever expected, especially after already orgasming once. You press her to your friend, almost a flat out shove. The line couldn’t be any thinner. “Shit—”

Your legs are on the cusp of crumbling, but at least they’re generous enough to let you savor this moment. Spilling your pent up need, you fuck that remaining cum into her. It’s fulfilling, euphoric. All the proof is down there, dripping between her legs and on your cock. The sight of her splayed, wrecked hole, oozing with seed, tempting you to stick a thumb around her slick core. She squirms at your sensitive touches, still needy and in want.

Only after the orgasm does your vision clear again. It’s an amusing scene; your friend is still pounding into Shiah’s tight ass at a feverish pace. Last one in, last one out—at least you think, that’s how the saying goes, until he lets out this guttural groan, indicating he’s reached his own climax too. If not for the setting, it’s an accomplishment worth cheering, the kind that’s worth a celebration of a life milestone. Cocks buried to the hilt, the sight of her holes spilling seed never grows old.

At least you both can agree on one thing: staying inside the welcoming warmth that is Shiah’s heat. Neither of you want to leave, even when you regain mobility in your legs.

You’ve got the rest of the night to ruin her, leave her room hobbling or crawling on her feet. Your friend has a bucket list of positions to fuck her in, so it’s the least of your worries. Besides, both of them know you have no intention of leaving. And in the middle of this non-existent conundrum, while your friend is leaving soft kisses all over her back as a victory lap, she takes a moment to glance at you both. Noticing the similarity of smiles on your faces and your supportive nature towards your friend, she’s reminded of something she shares with her members, apart from the fact they’re getting railed at this very moment:

True friendship.

—————

(A/N: Expect a bit more crowdedness aka more-somes over the next few fics. I also haven't written an Oh My Girl member since Arin in over a year, so that's one off the list! This one took a while, had a whole other story involving roadtrips and hitchhiking, which I ultimately scrapped. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

#smut #kpop smut #oh my girl #yooa

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mechaknight-98 · 1 month

Text

Instinctive insight (NSFW) FT Chaehyun

Authors note: I am unsure of a preface so here goes. Chaehyun buys a zoo where the narrator (you) work and hijnks ensue

PartII

Sexual chemistry is a weird thing. First, you're minding your business as a zookeeper when the new owner comes in and next thing you know you have her folded like a pretzel calling you daddy as she takes a hot load into her pussy then the next thing you know you're helping said new boss run the zoo better like the two of you didn't just fuck each other brains out. Oh shit… I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning

As I worked on next week’s schedule at the zoo, my coworker and friend, Zahir, strolled in with an air of excitement.

“Hey, Dino. Heard about the new boss?” he asked, brimming with curiosity.

“Yeah, I heard she's the new owner, taking over from Old McDonald,” I replied, my tone neutral.

“E I E I Oh,” Zahir quipped, a familiar inside joke that never failed to elicit a chuckle.

Curiosity piqued, I inquired, “What's the new boss like?”

“She's a Korean girl, a former idol,” Zahir revealed.

“Really? That's unexpected,” I remarked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yeah, quite the change. She's due to arrive in an hour or two. You're probably the best bet to understand her. Could you stay to interpret?” Zahir requested, his eyes hopeful.

“Hmm, I'm not sure. I was planning to spend time with Tony today. Haven't had the chance since the promotion,” I explained, feeling torn.

“Fair enough. But what about Alucard?” Zahir countered.

“Alucard's always my priority at the start of each shift, given his popularity,” I assured him.

“True, he's practically your trademark here. By the way, did you get taller?” Zahir teased, noticing a change.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” I replied cryptically, leaving the question unanswered.

After successfully arranging for Zahir to cover Marie’s shift next Thursday, I completed the schedule. With that task done, I made my way to Tony’s enclosure, treading cautiously as always.

“Hey buddy, sorry I haven't been around. How are you?” I greeted him, though his silence conveyed more than words ever could.

His gaze, concealed beneath armored scales, seemed to communicate, “You always make sure to take care of Alucard.”

“Well, he may be popular, but I'm here now, aren't I?” I replied, preparing his food.

His head tilted inquisitively, silently questioning my sincerity.

“Yeah, really,” I affirmed.

Now, you might be wondering why I'm conversing with a Magnamalo. It all goes back to my early days at Old McDonald's Zoo. Each hire was entrusted with caring for an egg and a baby animal. I was given Tony, and over the years, we formed an unbreakable bond.

Currently, Tony is undergoing his transformation into a scorned Magnamalo in preparation for finding a mate. This meant heightened aggression and physical changes.

After spending a couple of hours with Tony, I sat on a nearby rock, feeling a sense of tranquility despite his imposing presence. As I finished up and secured the enclosure, a voice startled me.

“So, you're the illustrious Dinovaldo,” the voice said, catching me off guard. I turned to find a young Korean woman standing before me, likely the new boss. Surprisingly young, perhaps even younger than me, she exuded confidence beyond her years. Her round face framed by soft brown eyes and shoulder-length hair added to her allure.

Normally, I'm a sucker for a pretty face, but inexplicably, a surge of unfamiliar emotions washed over me, leading me to behave rudely. “I didn't expect you to be dressed so... casually,” I retorted, though her attire was perfectly appropriate.

She smirked, seemingly relishing the tension, and took a step closer. “For someone known for thoughtfulness and consideration, you're quite the jerk,” she remarked, her voice tinged with amusement.

I matched her proximity, a malicious smile playing on my lips as I felt a strange tension building between us. “Maybe if you weren't such an eyesore, it wouldn't be an issue,” I snapped, though secretly acknowledging her undeniable attractiveness.

“Well, what are you going to do about it, Daddy?” she challenged, our closeness heightening the tension until we both yielded to other, more primal feelings, breaking the touch barrier simultaneously. We found each other in a fiery kiss that consumed us both. My hands found themselves wrapped around her midriff and as my fingers sank into her soft flesh she moaned into the kiss. We broke it and all of the animosity we shared mutated into a virulent lust and desire. Wordlessly we go to a nearby employee shack used for helping the animals give birth and continue pursuing our bodies’ desires. I kiss her again and she melts into the kiss. I run my hands through her hair. The softness of her midriff pushes me to continue my exploration of her body. I slid my arms down to her ass, I grab her right leg and lift it as she wraps it around my waist

“How forward. I love it Daddy!” the woman says. I smile at her. Her eyes scream encouragement for me to continue so I do. I unbuckle my pants and pull my erect dick out.

“You are so soft I'm going to call you Marshmallow,” I say as I fiddle with her skirt before moving her panties to the side and plunging my sex into hers.

“Oh god yes Daddy,” Marshmallow says Euphoric. I was going to move until she said.

“No, give me a second to adjust,” Marshmallow says panting. While waiting I go back into kissing her which Marshmallow greedily accepts. She smells like a wildfire and it drives me wild. When the need for oxygen overrides our need to breed we break the kiss again. “Okay go,” Marshmallow says and I take off. I begin to pull out but her vagina sucks me in further. It's perfectly accommodating and welcoming. As barely get halfway out Marshmallow screams

“Ram it back in Daddy!” being the good daddy I was. I give her what she wants. She moans as her pussy sucks me in almost vacuum tight. Her nails dig into my neck as I thrust and a puddle of our combined juices lay beneath us as we continue. I look into her eyes and we see each other in a new light.

I cup her sizable bust as I whisper into her ear, “Do you want to cum?” Marshmallow nods

“Are you close?” I ask and am answered with another nod. I pick up the pace and begin to play with her clit. Marshmallow moans I feel her other leg wrap around me I smile into another kiss as the heat between us intensifies.

“Does daddy like my pussy?” Marshmallow said as her voice hitched

“Yes, I love the way it sucks me in as it never wants me to leave,” I say to a euphoric Marshmallow

“Well, it's true I don't want you to leave my pussy. I could duck this perfect cock all day and night.” Marshmallow moaned.

“God you're so hot,” I say to her breathless. “This soft body is perfect,” I say.

Marshmallow’s walls tighten and I realize she likes the body appreciation. So I try something to push her over the edge. I continue my thrusts in and out of Marshmallow as I begin praising her body like crazy.

“I love this tummy it's so soft and pillow. I just want to hug you and keep you close forever. These tits divine the perfect size to grope and squeeze.” I moan into her ear. I hear Marshmallow scream before she reaches her release. Her pussy becomes unbearable tight and forces mine

“Cum with me. Cum in me.” Marshmallow moans. Her words send me fully over the edge and I fall into the abyss with her. I shoot string after string of hot semen into her fertile pussy and she seemingly milks me for more and more as her orgasm intensifies. As our gazes lock, a strange sensation envelops me, stirring within like a tempest. We hold each other's stare, the air crackling with an inexplicable intensity. A wave of possessiveness washes over me, consuming my senses, and I can sense the same emotion reflected in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment. We are bonded and no one else would satisfy us.

After our copulation, We stand there, our intense gaze softened by the passage of time, yet the undercurrent of possessiveness only seems to strengthen. Eventually, we settle into new seats, and Marshmallow finds her way onto my lap.

“So, Marshmallow, huh?” she remarks playfully.

“Yeah, what about it?” I respond with equal playfulness.

“I like it, but my name is Chaehyun,” she reveals.

“Noted. I'll make an effort to use your real name in public,” I promise.

“Why hide your affection behind a nickname?” she teases.

“Not ashamed, just protecting our little secret,” I assure her, my fingers gently tracing through her hair.

“It's too late for secrecy now, Daddy,” she teases back.

“So, does this mean we're officially together?” I ask a hint of confusion in my tone.

“I think we are past that. I mean you did just cum what feels like a gallon in me.” Marshmallow teases

“Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I have no idea what came over me.” I apologize

“You're fine. If I didn't want it, I would've stopped you. Besides, it was reassuring because I felt a surge of emotions when meeting you too,” Marshmallow says, her tone adorable.

“Okay. So, what's next? Because I'm technically off the clock. Should we grab lunch?” I inquired, my mind swirling with conflicting feelings.

Marshmallow beams. “I'd love to,” she replies gratefully. I nod, but then the reality of the situation hits me.

I begin to scramble around the room. “Wait, let me tidy up first,” I insist, hastily organizing everything and dusting Marshmallow off. I can sense her smile as she watches me work. Once finished, I turn to her.

“Why does it look better than when we came in?” Marshmallow remarks with a smile, perching herself on a table, her feet dangling adorably.

“I know how it's supposed to look, and I know how to make it that way, no matter what,” I explain. Marshmallow nods before gracefully sliding off the table with my assistance.

“What a gentleman,” she teases.

“Well, I try,” I respond, eliciting another smile from Marshmallow.

We slip out of the zoo unnoticed and head to a nearby steakhouse. We get seated and order our drinks. Marshmallow’s hand slips into mine and fits perfectly as we continue to feel each other out.

“So, I heard you raised the Zoo’s only male Magnamalo from birth,” Marshmallow brings up as we settle in our seats and receive our drinks. I nod.

“Yeah, Tony and I have been together since I was 16 when Old McDonald hired me.”

“So, you've been at the zoo for 10 years,” Marshmallow concludes, smiling warmly at me. Our drinks arrive, and Marshmallow's face lights up even more after taking her first sip, mirroring my own enjoyment. As she sets her drink down, her expression shifts to one of intense focus.

“You know, Old McDonald…” Marshmallow begins.

“E I E I Oh,” I interject, prompting a chuckle from Marshmallow.

“What was that?” Marshmallow asks, amusement evident in her tone.

“Just a reflex from an old inside joke,” I reply, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Marshmallow squeezes my hand, her touch radiating tenderness and care, melting away my defenses. I can't help but smile goofily in response.

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” Marshmallow teases, her eyes sparkling with affection. I playfully kiss her cheek, earning a happy smile in return. “The previous zoo owner relied on you for almost everything. Can I?” she continues, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“Sure, but first, I have some requests,” I respond.

“Oh, and what might those be?” Marshmallow inquires.

“Well, I know you're not just a former K-pop idol but also a renowned megafauna researcher with an impressive list of achievements. While I may not have the same level of expertise, I've raised or helped raise almost all the animals in the zoo, especially our big-ticket boy, Alucard.”

“Another one of your naming conventions?” Marshmallow teases with a smirk. I nod before continuing.

“I need you to trust my expertise with them, and please refrain from belittling me or flaunting your credentials. Given how our bodies reacted today, I'm not sure what might happen if things become confrontational. I'm open to constructive discussion, but if it turns into a challenge, I'll stand my ground firmly,” I explain, adopting a serious tone to convey the gravity of my request.

Marshmallow's smile widens. “You understand!” she exclaims excitedly, leaving me momentarily puzzled.

“Understand what?” I inquire.

#kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfic #kep1er #kep1er smut #chaehyun smut #chaehyun #kep1er chaehyun

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radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

okay but a blurb with baby spence (i’m talking like he just joined the bau and barely talks to them he’s so shy) and one day his absolutely gorgeous pregnant wife comes to see him and everyone is just so shocked because this guy?? has a pregnant wife?? and they’re also shocked that he pulled her cause she’s so beautiful

this has been my nightly scenario for the past like two days

- 🍓

hot wife!reader >>>>> i'm still on that shit. also this is so cute because then Jack and baby Reid could be besties

No one knows much about Spencer Reid. He's timid, but he's good at profiling and he gets his paperwork done so no one's complaining.

Despite what you told him about how everyone would love him, he feels like he's not fitting in like he's in a lab at Caltech and he's the only student with no one to be his lab partner.

He's nervous when Derek extends the invitation to a night out at the bar to include him. The little joke about whether he'd actually get served or if his baby face was too young helps assure Spencer it's casual, that they're on their way to becoming friends.

"Please come with me." He begs as soon as he's home. His head is resting on your shoulder as you face the TV. He prefers your lap but your bump is a little too big for it to be comfortable.

"I'm not sure I'll make a very good drinking buddy." You joke, pointing at the reason you can't drink.

He laughs slightly, the purest sound. "I just mean- it would be good for you to meet the team."

You agree with that. The BAU is dangerous and dark, and it would be good to know who's taking care of your husband.

Plus, you'll do almost anything he asks. "Sure."

So you get dressed up a little. Nothing too fancy, and no heels since your feet look like they've been stung by a bee. Spencer insists you're the most beautiful person in the world before dragging you off and into the warm night. A summer baby you're having.

You're not sure what to expect. To your knowledge, Spencer hasn't told the team he has a wife, much less that he's having a baby.

He stops in front of a table, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance. "Hi, everyone, this is my wife, Y/n." He introduces you.

They're surprised, shocked even with matching raised eyebrows and slacked jaws. The looks aren't new, and neither is the math they're doing when they look at Spencer. He barely looks 18, much less a married, soon-to-be father.

"Wow, we didn't even know there was a Mrs. Reid." An attractive guy says, shaking your hand. "I'm Derek Morgan."

"And a soon-to-be baby Reid." One of the women says excitedly. She pulls you in for a hug, which has become awkward with the size of your stomach. "Any time you need someone to watch him or her, I'm here. I'm Penelope, by the way."

You chuckle, nodding your head appreciatively. Easiest childcare you've found yet. The rest of the team is just as welcoming, shaking your hand and telling you their names. Spencer's less jittery by your side, and he's all smiles when he walks off to get you both drinks, even though he knows you're probably telling stories about the awkwardness of the start of your relationship. He's not phased by it anymore, he got the girl.

#🍓#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

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dollfacefantasy · 23 days

Text

Beginning to Slip

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: after watching one of the scream movies, you have some fun with toji and a ghostface mask

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cnc, size kink, knife play, face slapping, degradation, dacryphilia, mentions of murder and death and ghostface stuff

word count: 3k

a/n: um i had to repost cause if issues with tags. but yes i did write one like this for leon a few months ago but idgaf 🤪 i hope everyone enjoys <3

It had started normal enough. A regular night shared between you and your boyfriend, watching movies in bed as you often would do when you both had the spare time and lack of energy for anything else. After scrolling through the tv for a while, you came across one of the new Scream movies.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen this one yet. Wanna watch with me?” you’d asked him casually, sparing a little glance in his direction.

Toji looked at the screen, scanning the description with mild interest. He shrugged. He’d never shared your affinity for horror, never really saw the appeal of slasher movies, but if it put you in a good mood, why would he say no?

You pressed play and tossed the remote to the side. Your head rests on his chest, splitting your hearing between the actors talking and the steady beat of his heat. He absentmindedly strokes your head. You’re quiet for the first couple scenes. That is until you hear the iconic voice crackling through the opening girl’s phone.

“Why does the killer voice get less hot every movie?” you ask.

A simple, innocuous question. One you had posed to other people when you had watched the film before this one. But to Toji, it isn’t just a passing remark. He raises an eyebrow and looks down at you.

“Hot?”

A smile grows on your lips as you meet his eyes. “Yeah, hot,” you laugh.

“Isn’t it supposed to be scary?” he teases.

“Yeah… but that’s what makes it hot,” you respond, your smile widening, “The voice, the knife, the stuff he says. I don’t know. It’s just kinda…” You squirm a bit, trying to communicate your desires through motions rather than figure out the proper wording.

“Kinda what?” he continues affectionately mocking, “You got a thing for masks too? Want me to rough you up a bit?”

You laugh a little more. “Maybe I do.”

His eyes widen with slight curiosity, but he plays it off in the moment, making a joke of how he didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. But the comment stayed with him. It replayed in his head even after the credits rolled and you fell asleep in his arms. It was still with him the next morning when he woke up.

Toji was by no means innocent. He was familiar with all this kinda stuff. He understood the appeal. That wasn’t what had his mind lingering on the idea as he showered and got ready for the day. He just never expected you, his girlfriend who’d always been so gentle, to want to get rough.

He wasn’t against the concept though. Not at all. Visions of you flooded his mind. You completely ruined beneath him, face wet with tears and drool, hips bruised from his fingers. He was so not against it he had to jerk off in the shower. Thanks to his overactive imagination though, it didn’t take too long. As soon as he got out and dried off, he ordered one of those masks.

He felt silly in the days after, painfully aware of how eager he was for it to arrive. When it finally arrived, he knew it was worth it though. He pulled it out of the bag, letting the black cloth fall into place. The ghoulish face stared back at him as if it knew what it was about to be used for.

That very night he intended to use it. He waited till the evening when you were sprawled across the couch relaxing. Then he snuck off to the bedroom and got dressed up. Donned in his normal black shirt with gray pants, he peered into the eyes of his reflection as he pulled the mask over his head. It sat flawlessly, the fabric pooling around his neck perfectly.

The last item he needs sits inside a drawer on his side of the bed. The knife. He’d had this part handled long before he knew you’d be into it. He takes out his favorite one, the one he knows will look prettiest pressed against your flesh. As he watches it glimmer in the dim light of the bedroom, he knows he’s ready to go.

He struts into the living room, pausing several feet away from you and allowing you to just take it in. He feels a pulse within the confines of his jeans as your eyes sparkle. You sit up slowly, looking him up and down.

“Toji?” you ask, “What… what are you doing?”

“You said you had a thing for masks and knives, yeah? Well I know you got a thing for me too,” he says as he begins to approach you.

He sees how your pupils lock onto the reflective blade. Holding the handle, he points it at you. The flat of the cool metal rests beneath your chin. He applies pressure and directs you to look up at him.

“Do you wanna try this out?” he breathes.

Timidly, you nod.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he says.

“I wanna try it out,” you answer.

“You want me to be rough?”

Another nod.

“How rough?”

“As much as you want,” you say so quietly it sounds close to a whisper.

He stares down at you for a moment, thinking over your answers. His thoughts smash into a mental wall when he hears your next sentence.

“Want you to make me cry,” you say. You’re looking up at him with doe eyes too. How could he resist this offer?

After a few moments of contemplation, he swipes the blade away from your jaw. “Should I give you a head start?” he asks simply.

A chill fizzles down your spine. He didn’t even need a voice mod. He already had the voice of an apex predator. You shake your head at his question, causing him to smile beneath the mask.

“Make the first move then, bunny,” he says.

As quick as you can, you scramble off the couch, ducking under his large arm. He chuckles while making a grab for you. You nearly trip but manage to make it to your feet and bolt down the hallway.

He spins around and follows, hot on your tail. He doesn’t have to run, his long legs carry him fast enough with a simple stride. The thrill of adrenaline pumps from your heart and out through your veins. You dash around different pieces of furniture, trying to prevent the heavy footsteps behind you from getting too close.

You come to a crossroads when the path ahead splits between another hall and the staircase. Without a second thought, you sprint up the stairs in the direction of the bedroom. It was pure instinct, but you know this game is about to reach the main part when you see his body fill the doorway. His chest rises and falls with his breaths. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can’t see them. Like a gazelle caged in with a tiger, you know there’s only one way this will end.

“Up the stairs instead of out the front door,” he tuts with a shake of his head, “An amateur mistake. One that dumb little girls like you always make.”

He stalks closer to you, and in-turn, you back away. Your steps continue until your back bumps the wall. He’s closing in, nearly close enough to pin you to the wall. As a last ditch effort, you dart to your left in the direction of the bed. In your mind, you were going to hop over the mattress and manage to speed past him back out the door.

You don’t get that far because he grabs one wrist and then the next and slams you face down on the bed. With your arms pinned to your back, all you can do is wriggle to try and find a way to slip out. He puts a stop to your squirming quickly though, jerking your wrists upwards and causing you to yelp in discomfort.

“Calm down, angel face. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Not until I have my fun at least,” he purrs.

He runs the tip of the blade along your skin peeking out from where your shirt had risen. There’s not enough pressure to draw blood, only leave you with a sting of anticipation. A shaky sigh leaves you, but you're careful not to move and send the knife piercing through your flesh.

“That’s better,” he hums before pulling the knife away and placing it to the side.

He releases your wrists as well, planning on removing your top next. You don’t make it that simple though. Your arms stretch forward and claw at the blankets to try and drag yourself to the other side of the mattress.

It takes him no effort to wrangle you back into position. His frame is so much larger than yours, it’s like he’s covering every inch of you. Anywhere you try to move, he’s already there. His fingers wrap around your limbs and encapsulate them completely.

He wrestles you still and whips you around onto your back. One of his hands comes up to your throat and sharply jerks your head, bouncing it off the cushioned surface below you.

“That’s a fight you won’t win, little brat,” he breathes as the eyes of the ghostface mask watch your figure.

You resign to be still for a few moments, only minorly fidgeting as he peels your shirt off you. He takes his time. Each second another inch of your body is exposed to him. He drinks in the revelation of your form. He’s so focused, so calculated with his movements that he doesn’t see your arm swinging at him until it collides with the side of the mask, almost knocking it loose.

To him, it was absolutely nothing. He doesn’t even falter. It registers in his mind in the same way a kitten batting its paw would. He stares down at you with a wild grin on his face underneath the white plastic.

His hand leaves your throat and grips your jaw, straightening you out before landing a firm slap on your cheek. He almost breaks and lets out a laugh at the way your hips jump from the contact. He gives you one more on the same cheek before lowering himself closer to you. You feel the cool smoothness of the knife dragging up your stomach and between your breasts as he speaks.

“Count yourself lucky it’s only my hand I’m using,” he taunts before using his free hand to tap your face once more.

The combination of the hits with the low thrum of his voice had you dizzy. Your head feels foggy in the best way as your heart beats faster and your chest rises and falls quicker with your increased breaths. The knife trails along your collarbone. You can feel a light scratch as he presses slightly harder than before. Still not enough to have you spilling crimson, but the right amount to have your panties sticking to your cunt from arousal.

“You gonna be good for me now, or do I need to give you a better reason to be?” he asks, voice right next to your ear. Your blood was running hot as you could hear him breathing under the mask, feel him hard and pressed against your thigh.

“I’ll be good,” you agree. Your voice comes out soft and hazy. He smirks at the state you're in from just a few smacks.

He backs off, rising to his feet again at the side of the bed. He tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it to the side before dropping his pants. You can nearly feel your eyes dilate as they take in his appearance. No matter how many times you saw it, it never got old. Each ridge and dip in his muscular abdomen and chest looked so familiar but thrillingly new. His cock was a whole other story. The sight of it hanging between his legs had you drooling in more ways than one.

Reaching forward, he yanks you closer to his body by your hips and then tugs your pants off. The forming pile of clothing on the floor grows as he discards them there.

You’re now splayed out on the bed, left only in your panties. He can see the slick that’s soaked the middle of them. Slowly, he grabs the knife again and brings it between your legs. You whimper as you feel the edge of the blade slide up against your clothed center. Your jaw drops and your legs tremble. You stay perfectly still, your eyes trained on the veins on his forearm as he maneuvers the weapon.

“You’d look beautiful covered in red, babydoll,” he

It glides up the thin cloth between your legs and over your pelvis. The tip catches on the elastic waistband. You bite your lip. Your pulse becomes audible to you as the fabric lifts from your body, hooked on the shiny metal.

“Toji,” you whimper. You see the mask tilt up a bit as he glances at your face, but he says nothing. Until the garment snaps, tearing on the sharp point as the pull becomes too taut.

“You’d be the prettiest one yet,” he murmurs, “All marked up. No mistake about who you belong to.”

His fingers come up to the split in your underwear. He rips it in half like it’s nothing, drawing a gasp from you. The shreds of fabric hang from your legs, and he doesn’t bother removing it any further. Enough of you is accessible for his purposes.

Cupping his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs up beside your stomach. He can’t get enough of how your pussy glistens and drips for him. He drags two fingers through your folds before gripping his cock and stroking it a few times. He lines up at your entrance and looks down at you for a moment.

“You ready for me, doll?” he asks.

But before you can answer, he shoves himself all the way inside, filling you completely with one stroke. The motion tears a loud cry from your lungs while a cruel laugh comes from him. You try to muffle it by covering your mouth, your own palm flying to your lips. He rips it away though and pins it back on the mattress as he starts thrusting.

“Don’t try to keep that shit from me. The sounds might be the best part,” he grunts, “I’d bet you’d sound the same if I was slicing you up instead of just fucking you stupid.”

Your eyes roll back as another moan springs free. Constant whimpers come next, intermingling with the creak of the bed. He’s not giving you time to adjust like normal, he’s getting right into it, hard and fast.

His skin slaps against yours, and you grip at his biceps, nails digging into the skin. His head tilts back as he sighs at the small stings. One set of fingers dig into your leg with a bruising hold while the other hand returns to your throat. He holds it, using it for leverage to continue drilling into you with no mercy.

It’s ruthless. You’re left gasping for air as your body bobs with the force of his movements. Your walls tighten up and release, struggling to accept the size of him still. Only the cusps of words can breach your lips. Nothing coherent makes it through.

Tears prick at your eyes as everything else in the world fades to the background. Your lashes flutter as you try to keep them in. They finally spill as his hand connects with your cheek again in a small tap.

“I asked you a question,” he growls into your ear.

“What?” you whimper as warm beads roll from the corners of your eyes, down your temples.

The sight of your glossy eyes looking up at him is almost enough to push him over the edge but he refrains and keeps slamming into your wanting hole.

“I asked if you were crying yet, but I think you have that answered,” he says.

“Oh,” you whine simply.

Your cries become more audible while your lips remain permanently parted, an endless cycle of mewls and whimpers seeping out between sobs.

You’re trembling and sucking him in more than before. His head has dropped to the crook of your neck as his breaths have morphed into harsh puffs. You’re both close and each of you knows this.

Your shaky hand rises to the back of his head, pushing the mask up over his head and letting his smooth black locks fall free. The mask falls off him onto the bed as he brings his head up to look into your eyes.

“Wanna see you when you finish me off,” you choke out.

He grins when hears that and presses his sweaty forehead to yours. “Any last words?” he asks.

One final shake of your head, and you explode from him. You scream as the pleasure courses through you. He locks his digits around you and presses his face harder against yours. The only time it was ok for your sounds to be hushed was when it was caused by his lips on yours.

He keeps fucking you hard and fast, only cumming himself as the overstimulation begins to set in for you. His cum floods your insides as he groans into your mouth. His body continues to roll rhythmically through the whole thing.

When he is done, he practically passes out on top of you. You push on him a little bit but not too hard. Being pinned beneath him was far from the worst thing in the world. He doesn’t move though. You’re kinda shocked he even pulls out with how unresponsive he was to you at the moment. You only know he’s still conscious from the tender way he holds your waist and the kisses he’s lavishing on your neck where his fingers had once been.

You decide this position is as good as any and lazily grab the tv remote which laid in its usual spot next to your pillow. With a few clicks of a button, you’ve got the first Scream turned on. You wrap your arms around Toji and nuzzle his head in return, content to drift off tangled together to the sounds of Drew Barrymore being slaughtered.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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ellielatinagf · 1 month

Text

Lacrosse! Ellie part 3

Summary: You finally get to meet up with ellie on a date! Is it a date? Technically….

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual activity, FLUFFFFFF lmk if I missed any

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

“Girl no those colors DO NOT match” Dina huffed

“Then what can I wear??” You asked almost getting annoyed. Dina had been at you house since 8 am. It’s now 10 am. You’d both been trying to plan a cute outfit for your little “date” with Ellie. Unfortunately Dina is going overboard and dressing you like your going to the red carpet.

“I’m gonna go take a shower Din, can you just pick something cute and casual for me please?” You asked

“Ugh. Fine. I guess no dress then” Dina said grinning a bit. You rolled your eyes smiling and went into your bathroom.

You looked in the bathroom window to see a small amount of snow on the ground. Winter came a bit early this year. Not that you were complaining, you liked the winter. You removed your clothes and turned on the shower to warm water.

As you stepped in you thought of your meet up with Ellie. You’d be wrong to say you weren’t eager about it. You’d thought of both the meet up and Ellie all week. Maybe Ellie a little bit more. You thought of Ellie at your front door holding a bouquet of roses and giving you that goofy grin she has. You thought of Ellie holding your hand while you two sat in a large fancy restaurant. You though of Ellie’s lips on yours at your own made up wedding ceremony. And guilty enough, you thought of Ellie above you naked and prepared to give you all the love she had for you.

Your thoughts were soon cut off by Dina talking behind the door

“Hey are you almost done? I had a lot of fiber this morning!” Dina said. You quickly finished in the shower and put on what Dina had picked out.

You had some boyfriend jeans with a Nike hoodie and a puffer vest over it. It was cute and simple. You looked at your shoe rack. You’d remember Ellie’s shoes. Crusty, old, torn apart converse. As much as it was kind of disgusting, it was kind of cute and made you giggle. You put on your plain converse, maybe Ellie would notice.

dina unlocked the door and came out of the bathroom and smiled at you.

“You look gorgeous” Dina smiled “thanks to me” you giggled at her weird compliment.

“Call me after okay? And give me every detail too. And I mean I wanna know the exact time she blinked too” Dina said

“Okay okay okay I’ll tell give you how many freckles she has” you replied giggling

“More than 50 and I’ll be concerned” Dina joked back and you both went your separate ways.

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

*10:45 am*

You walked in the coffee shop that Ellie had given you the address for. It looked small and family owned. Those were typically the best coffee shops in your opinion.

As you walked in you scan the facility. Would Ellie be here already? Does she like to be fashionably late? Maybe she’d think you were too early.

Your thoughts all went away when you looked and saw a familiar figure sitting behind the counter on the window.

She looked so good. Ellie wore a black t shirt with a red flannel over it. She also wore some faded jeans with them. The jeans has some pain splash’s and…is that charcoal? She also, as assumed, wore those same converse.

You walked towards Ellie and smiled. You tapped her shoulder and she removed her headphones to look at you.

“Hey” You smiled.

“Hey You” ellie smiled back. She turned her body to look at you. You felt her eyes travel up and down your body. You didn’t feel uncomfortable by it, it was almost like she was taking you in. She seemed to have come back to reality and patted on the stool next to her.

“Sit. Um, I ordered you a coffee already if that’s okay?” Ellie asked. She seemed a little nervous. You couldn’t help the small blush forming in your cheeks.

“That’s perfect” You smiled. “So how’s your week?” You asked trying to make small talk.

“My week? Um. Just a lot of practice” ellie chuckled.

Hot

“How about you?” Ellie asked

“It wasn’t bad” You smiled. A waitress came over and brought out the coffee.

As you two sipped your coffee Ellie talked about lacrosse. You didn’t know much about it but with Ellie, she could talk about a single grain of rice and you’d be interested.

“Sorry, am I talking to much?” Ellie asked cringing at herself.

“What? Oh no. I like hearing you talk” You replied. You felt yourself blush once again.

“I just think maybe I talk too much and it like, scares people away” Ellie chuckled awkwardly.

“I like hearing you talk” you repeat. Your cheeks were starting to feel hot. You contemplated going outside and shoving your face in the snow just to cool down.

“Yeah but…I like your voice too” Ellie mumbled. She said it so low, but you could just make out what she said.

“Is that the only thing?” You asked softly.

“Hm?”

“Is that the only thing you like about me?” You asked. You have absolutely no idea where and why this boldness has hit you like a speeding truck.

“….no” ellie replied sipping her coffee. You both looked out the window. The empty road. The white snow covering everything. The way that even though it was the afternoon, the grey sky illuminated the whole view.

“What else do you like?” You asked.

“….I like your smile” Ellie replied once again so softly you could barely make out the words. Your blush grew deep. But not as deep as you saw Ellie’s grow.

“I like your hair” Ellie said.

Oh she’s doing this…

“I like your pretty face” she says looking down in the cup of her coffee. You smiled and looked at Ellie. She turned her head to look at you. Once she saw that you weren’t uncomfortable by her words she smiled back.

“You wanna hear a good song?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah sure” you smiled putting your coffee down.

Ellie got out her phone and plugged in the earbuds. She handed you one as she looked for a song. You blushed and took the earbud in your ear and looked at Ellie with a look that said “I love you”.

Ellie looked at you and smiled. That smile. That grin your always thinking of. Those eyes you can never remove from your memory. Those freckles you wish you could kiss. Is there anything really stopping you from kissing them?

Ellie pressed play on the phone and you both listend to the lyrics

I thought that I was dreamin’ when you said you love me

The start of nothing

Had no chance to prepare, couldn’t see you coming

And we started, from nothing

Ooooh I could hate you now, it’s alright to hate me now

You listened to the rest of the song with Ellie. After it was done she smiled at you

“You like it?” Ellie asked

“Like it? It’s Frank ocean. Who doesn’t like Frank ocean?” You chucked.

“That’s what I’m saying! My friend, Jesse, says he’s mid and it doesn’t even make sense! Frank ocean is a lyrical genius, with the voice of an Angel” Ellie said. You giggled and smiled at her. She returned your smile.

For what seemed like eternity you stared into each others eyes. Her green orbs could light up any room. Her pink cheeks only helped bring out her freckles that were decorated around her face.

“What time do you have to go…pretty girl?” Ellie asked. Your face felt like it was on fire. You looked outside to see it be somewhat dark. Figures, with the winter change. You look at your phone clock

*3:17 pm*

“Hmm..probably now. I promised Dina I’d go to her house” you replied. Dreadfully of course. You wished you could just take Ellie everywhere you go.

“Me too. I have a game today” Ellie replied.

“Oh, you should send me your schedule. I want to go to another game” you smiled. Ellie chirped up and looked at you.

“Really?” She asked “but I thought you said you didn’t know anything about lacrosse?”

“Yeah but I mean…I can learn” you replied.

“Is there….any other reason you’d want to go?” Ellie asks. She knows what she’s doing doesn’t she?

“We’ll maybe…there’s Someone I’m looking forward to seeing” you replied blushing once again. With the amount of blood rushing to your face in this “date” you probably don’t have anymore blood in the rest of your body.

“Maybe someone’s expecting to see you too” Ellie replied smirking. That smile. God that smile.

As you both started to leave you both said your goodbyes at the door.

“Text me when you get home, mkay?” Ellie’s asked.

“Text me when you win your game” you replied. Ellie smiled at you. You stayed there, smiling and staring. You felt yourself leaning in toward Ellie. Like something was pulling you in. Ellie felt it too. You stopped when your lips were inches from hers.

*Dinasaur calling*

What a cockblcok

“Um sorry” you said chuckling nervously scrambling to turn off your phone.

“Oh heh no yeah sorry about that um…text you later?” Ellie asked

“Mhm yeah…bye Ellie” you said

“Bye babe” ellie replied smiling and walking away

after a couple minutes of walking you revived a text from Ellie

*if you could see my thoughts you would see our faces*

Your heart almost stopped. You thought your body was gonna explode. You knew it was yet another Frank ocean lyric, but you couldn’t help but be delusional over the fact that maybe it means something more. Maybe she wants something more.

You picked up the phone to call Dina back

“I’m gonna kill you” you huffed at your professional cockblocker.

I actually LOVEEEEEE this part omg. I hope you guys love it just as much as I do and I sooo wanted more fluff and I know you guys probably do too!Thanks so much for reading and I hope I won’t disappoint with the next part! Bye loves!! Free Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Tag list: @vqxen @bready101 @vampyangel @gato-chino @a-little-bit-of-everybody @lilylynne11 @lively-blues

Love you all!!! Free Palestine 🇵🇸 from the River to the sea🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x reader #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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hecateslore · 1 month

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hi just popping in…. what would papa!simon react when nova’s in her tweens/teens and some boys are trying to get her attention/court her… she doesn’t necessarily have to feel the same way and just talks about it casually over dinner or “oh __ got this for me” and simon is just like. Who . IDK what are Your Thots On That…

Novalynn's preteen era!!! also I'm back home so keep the asks coming 😏

"Maybe we should pull these pieces back," You say grabbing the curly strands that sat before your daughters face, You grab the slicking brush and put some on top of her hair slicking it down with one quick motion. Her baby blue dress complementing her skin. "That looks better," She says putting her earrings on. "I think so too."

You could hear Simons loud footsteps coming down the stairs, "Who's the new girl," He jokes, Nova rolls her eyes hiding her embarrassment.

"Stop," She mumbles, adding her bracelets. "Spring formal ready," You say putting the gold butterfly clip in her hair. "You get asked Novie?" Simon says, dumping the handful of granola in his mouth.

She shrugs, "What does that mean?" He cocks a brow playfully, "Ooh," you instigate, handing her the bottle of lotion. "Just some dude from class." She shrugs again, "A boy?" He yells, You shush him, chuckling at his drama. "You'll live." You pat his chest while walking past him.

You grab your keys and watch her shive her foot in her patent MaryJanes, wincing a bit when she creases them. "You joining us?" You ask, watching Simon watch Nova.

Simon sat in the passengers seat, Novalynn in the background arguing with her Dad, "Dad, Stop!" She says getting frustrated, "Don't let him High five you!" He scolds, turning half his body towards the backseat. You pull into the schools drive way, Simon eyeing all of the children waiting to enter the schools gym.

"Which one is he?" Simon teases, "Mom," She whines, "Simon," You chuckle at him, "I need to know," he says rolling down the window, "This is so embarrassing." She slouches in her seat, You roll his window up from your side. "What?" He says confused, "Leave her." you say, obviously picking up on her feelings. Simon sits back in his chair. You settle in a parking space. "Do you want me to walk you in?" Simon immediately offers. She shakes her head no, "Can Mom?"

"Sure!" you say enthusiastically. You both get out of the car, "You still have your ticket?" you ask, fixing the skirt of her dress, "Yeah." she says fixing her bracelets, "I bought you some things," You reach into your bag pulling out clear mascara, some lipgloss and blush.

Her brown eyes light up at the sight of her new makeup, "Come here," you say then place a little bit of blush on her round cheeks, letting her do her mascara and lipgloss.

When you finally get to the door, you see her wave to the boy that asked her. You hold in your aw's and check her in, signing the sheet paper. You give her a kiss on the cheek and watch her walk in with him.

You scurry back to the car, Simon in the driver's seat. Simon looks up from his phone seeing a very giddy you, "They are the cutest." You say as soon as you open the door, "They look so cute!" You gush. Simon shakes his head, and drives back home.

You both sit in the living room waiting for the time to pass, "This is weird." Simon says aloud, "What's weird?" You yawn, "Our baby is at a school dance."

"Yup." you nod, "Im in disbelief." He says, "I can tell." you mumble, "Wait till the boys get to her age, that'll be fun." You chuckle.

"I wonder if she wants to come home?"

"She doesn't, Simon."

#lunden’s response ❀—#Papa!Simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons

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beautifulfuckup99 · 9 months

Note

How about an insecure reader who thinks she is unworthy of love and keeps pushing JK away and wants to keep it just friends but he doesnt care and snaps one night showing her how much he wants her 🤭😉

Awe! So cute! Got you right now! Lol

Title: I can handle it

Warning(s): Talks of body weight, Insecure!Y/N, Face-S!tting, Dom!Jungkook, D!rty Talk, Spank!ng, Some Hair Pull!ng, Curs!ng, and some well-earned fluff!

Author's Note: So this will follow a curvy and/or plus sized Y/N because as a fellow 'big girl', I know we deserve some damn good smut too! Hope you enjoy! Oh! And this will be and "Idol!AU"...

*************************************

Monday:

"Jungkook, stop!" You snap, finally fed up with today as you move out of his arms. "I'm not going." You declare as you walk back into your closet to change out of the dress. Tonight was nerve-wracking. Management had given Jungkook the green light to make a public outing with you in order to confirm that he was in fact in a relationship.

This would be your first introduction to ARMY, this giant mass of unstoppable force, that could make or break you and your relationship. And you were panicking.

"Y/N, what was wrong with that one?" Jungkook asks in the same calm and soft tone as he always had with you.

But how long would that last?

How long would he put up with you before realizing he could have literally anyone else? Famous or not.

You were spiraling now.

Just fucking great!

"I looked like a fucking pumpkin!" You say with an eyeroll. "Tell the guys I'm sorry, go out with them on your own. We'll do this reveal another time." You state and Jungkook frowns, walking into your closet to actually face you.

"First off..." He says, eyebrows knitted together in slight frustration. He would never let that out in his tone though. "Orange is a great color on you. And secondly, we can't keep putting this off..." He says as you rummage through your rack of clothes to try and find something. Nothing looked good enough.

"Baby, could you please just leave? I wanna change." You say, never a fan of changing in front of him. He rolls his eyes at that.

"Y/N, we've literally had sex before, yet I can never see you naked? It makes no sense." He sighs and you turn to him.

"Out, Jungkook. Now!" You order as you fuss at him. He sighs heavily before just giving in and leaving. There was always tomorrow...

Tuesday:

"Mm... Something smells good..." Jungkook says pleasantly as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You sigh deeply and move from his arms, not liking the feeling of his hands so close to your stomach.

"It's nothing special." You say casually and Jungkook frowns a bit at that and sighs softly before letting it go. He did that a lot when dealing with you. But you were worth that. Even if you never saw it that way...

"Oh? Nothing special, my ass. It smells like Samgyeopsal!" He laughs softly and it almost melts your icy demeanor. Keyword: almost.

"Wait till it's done, to see." You mutter and he laughs more.

"No. Let me see!" He says as he tries reaching over you to uncover the pan.

"Kookie, no! Let it be a surprise!" You laugh as you move in the way so he can't uncover the pan.

"Let me see!" He laughs as he starts to play fight with you.

"No! Go away, wait till dinner!" You fuss and gasp as you feel Jungkook wrap his arms around you and you feel him begin to lift you.

"No! Jungkook, put me down!" You practically shriek in panic. He's quick to put you down and you push him away. "Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!" You say as you back away, feeling panicked. Hiding your body with baggy clothes was one thing, but having him always trying to grab you and hold you? God, it was like he'd find out, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was dating a plus-size woman. And you didn't want that.

"Y/N, calm down. I was joking. Plus, I lift more than that at the gym-" You cut him off.

"I don't care! Don't do that again!" You say and huff before storming away, leaving your boyfriend upset and hurt in the kitchen.

Wednesday:

"What are you looking at?" You scrunch your nose as Jungkook gets comfy on the end of your bed, watching you as you read your chapter for the night.

"Just... Watching my beautiful, smart girlfriend read." He chuckles softly and you shift at that.

"Don't be weird." You mutter as you go back to reading.

You had this theory going. See, if you let yourself fall for Jungkook and all his sweet words, you'll only feel stupid when he finally comes to his senses and leaves you. So, acting cold and nonchalant? At least you could act like you don't care when he breaks up with you. And what's better is he'll never get the satisfaction of knowing he hurt you! It was the perfect plan!

"Why do you do that? Just take the compliment..." He sighs and you look up from your book at face him and breathe deeply. You knew you didn't have much time with him left. He only had this week off, hence why he wanted to come out publicly with you this week...

"No." You say finally and shut your book. He sighs and moves closer to you, gently touching your thigh and you grab his hand. "Night, Jungkook." You say simply and he sighs.

Thursday:

"Hey, baby. Good work out today?" You ask gently as Jungkook comes bouncing into your apartment.

"Yeah! It was great. You should come with me next time to-" You cut him off.

"I like working out alone." You state fast. Last thing you wanted was for your, very toned, boyfriend to watch you run on a treadmill for an entire hour.

"Well, I just thought-" You cut him off again.

"I like my privacy." You say and walk past him to go to your room.

"Y/N... Come on, I... I just think It'll be cool for you to watch me!" He tries as you shut the bedroom door. He groans and rubs his still sweaty face. He sighs and shakes his head. "Ok. I'll cook dinner tonight?" He calls with no response. "Ok. Got it..." He mutters and shakes his head.

Friday:

"Oh! Here." Jungkook says as he tries pouring more noodles into your bowl and you're fast to pull it away.

"No! I'm good." You assure fast as you shake your head.

"But you only had a little bit." He argues gently as he tries again.

"No, Jungkook. It's not like I need the extra food." You snort, trying to make light of your appearance. He frowns.

"What does that mean? Food is food." He says and you hum at that. "Y/N, I don't like when you-" You cut him off.

"Tell the truth?" You raise an eyebrow. "Jungkook, you look fucking amazing. That's a given." You state. "I don't, and that's just as obvious." You shrug.

"Y/N!" He says just as offended as he'd be if you were to make fun of him. "What's been going on with you this week? Ever since I brought up going public with you, you've been-" You cut him off again.

"A bitch?" You ask. You couldn't explain the attitude change. Maybe a part of you was hoping to tire Jungkook out enough for him to leave you? Maybe you were hoping to spend this whole week picking fights with him so you wouldn't have to go public with him? And then he'd go back to Korea and you two could go back to skype calls and long text messages instead.

"No! Y/N, stop." He says, shaking his head. "You're fucking perfect the way you are. I love you. Stop acting so... Cold." He says and you watch him closely and feel your heart clench at the fear of letting yourself believe him. You couldn't.

"I'm gonna go wash dishes." You state and get up, walking off.

Saturday:

"No. No this is all wrong." You sigh as you eye yourself in the mirror.

"I think you look sexy." Jungkook smirks as he comes around to grab you from behind as your eyes stay glued to your stomach area that you could see through the tight black dress you had on.

"No. You can see... Everything. And it's so... tight." You pout a bit as you feel the cool metal of Jungkook's lip ring trail along your neck.

"So? We're going out to a bar. You look good." He encourages as he trails his lips towards your pulse point.

You feel the anxiety building up as you think about tonight. Going public, what that means for you both. The 'what if's pile on as you stand there.

What if he gets bored of you?

What if you guys don't last?

What if you get hurt?

What if it becomes clear to everyone that he can do so much better?

You couldn't do this...

You liked your relationship over the phone. Where it was safe. Where he was where he was, and you were where you were. Where he only saw what you wanted him to see. Where you could hide from him. It's always easier to love from afar. You get to use your imagination for the rest and fantasy is always better than reality.

You were spiraling again...

Just fucking great.

"No. I'm not doing this. I can't." You say finally and pull away. "I look horrible, I'm not going out like this." You state as you try moving away from Jungkook, only to be yanked back.

"Y/N, enough." He says and you move away from him.

"No! 'Enough' yourself! I'm not going!" You huff and turn to go to the closet. "My fat ass is sitting hom-" You're finally cut off by Jungkook.

"Stop talking about yourself like that, god damnit!" He finally snaps and you pause, never hearing that tone from him before.

"I am sick of you acting like this. You're so fucking sexy, and you wanna walk around like you're not? You're driving me fucking crazy. Come here." He orders as he pulls you right against him.

"Jungkook-" He cuts you off again.

"I don't wanna hear you anymore." He orders. "Do I make myself clear?" He asks firmly as he grabs your neck to make you look up at him. You feel your face heat up and you can only nod. You feel his strong arms wrap firmly around your waist before he lifts you up. You want to stop him, you want to warn him about your weight, but you can't speak as he takes you to the bed and tosses you back on the bed.

He grips your thighs. "So fucking sexy. I love your thighs and ass." He pants and turns you on to your stomach fast. You're stunned by the strength. "And all you wanna do is talk shit about the body I love..." He growls and smacks your ass cheek, groaning. "Fuck, I love watching it jiggle." He groans and you moan at the sting.

You feel your dress bunch up at your waist and look back at him as best as you can as he smacks your ass again. "Fuck, baby..." He whispers and grabs your hand, pulling it to his crutch.

"You feel how hard you get me? Hm? And you still think you're not perfect? Please." He scoffs as you shiver at the feel of his bulge under your hand. You can't help but open your legs more in anticipation.

He moves away from you and lays back on the bed. "Come here." He orders and you open your mouth, but he grabs your face. "Did I fucking say talk? Hm?" He whispers as he shakes your head for you as you moan out a soft 'no', loving how he controlled your body.

"No. I didn't. Shut the fuck up. And get on my fucking face." He orders and your eyes widen, but you move on top of him, mindful of your weight still.

You hover over his face, and he grips your hips. "I said sit." He whispers.

"Jungkook, I don't wanna-" He cuts you off.

"Why do you think I work out every day? Hm? I can handle you, Y/N. I want you smothering me." He orders and you blush hard.

"Jungkook... I... J-Just... Tap out if it gets too much..." You whisper and he snorts at that.

"I'm a man, Y/N. Tapping out is for wusses." He states.

"You say that till you pass out." You mutter, trying to joke too. He looks you right in the eyes.

"It'll be the best way to go. Now sit." He orders and you bite your lip, but slowly lower yourself on to his face more.

"Watch yourself. In the mirror. Watch how sexy you are..." He whispers against your underwear covered pussy. You nod and slowly look up at the mirror as you feel his mouth move between your pussy lips. You gasp softly and run your fingers through his hair as he teases your clit through your underwear and leaves bite marks along your inner thighs.

Soon, your underwear is pushed to the side as he focuses on sucking and licking your clit. You try and keep your eyes open, but you're a moaning mess as you feel him work his tongue deeper between your folds.

"Ah... Ah... Oh, baby!" You moan and feel his tongue wiggle towards your entrance, slowly sliding into you. His arms wrap around your thighs, and he pulls you harder against him. You can feel his nose on your clit and his tongue moving deeper inside of you, and it's as if he's smothering himself in your pussy.

Looking in the mirror by your bed, you can see your hair a mess, your dress bunched up around your waist, and Jungkook's hand undoing his belt as he lays under you.

You groan at the sight of him using one hand to pull out his cock that's already hard. He strokes it as he focuses on eating you out.

"Oh, baby!" You practically purr, never feeling so... desired before.

He moans deeply into your pussy, and you can't help but rock your hips against his face, gripping his hair more tightly. "So good! It's so good! Baby!" You moan as your head rolls back a bit. You can't lift yourself up from his face even if you wanted to. His tatted and solid arm was still wrapped tightly around your thigh to hold you on his face like an oxygen mask. Oh, the irony...

"I'm gonna cum!" You moan out loudly, unable to stop yourself. God, you loved feeling manhandled like this.

Hearing your moans and cries, Jungkook grips your hips with both hands, moving you more so you're riding his tongue and grinding against his nose, making a mess on his face. "Oh... My god, yes..." You whine as you feel it building effortlessly. You needed this release. And all at once, it hits you.

"Jungkook!" You call out as you cum hard on his face. He doesn't stop though. You squeak at the constant rubbing on your now sensitive clit and fall back on to the bed to lessen the pressure on your bundle of nerves, but Jungkook doesn't let go of your hips, and instead moves to lay on his stomach, still eating you out.

"Oh my god! Baby! T-Too... Too much!" You pant as your back aches at the aftershock.

"Mm... so fucking sweet..." He mumbles against your clit between heavy pants, your juices covering his face like a freakin face mask. It makes you blush as he kisses up your body. "Get on your stomach. Face the mirror." He orders.

"I get it, you like my body-" He cuts you off.

"Too late for that. I want it drilled into you." He says and forces you into that position.

You blush hard and try covering your face, but he's quick to smack your ass hard. "Look. Look at how pretty you get when I slide in." He pants in your ear, and you shiver and look in the mirror.

You gasp shakily as you feel him start to slide in. "Atta girl. Stay just like that..." He praises breathlessly and reaches around to hold your neck as he fucks you slow and deep. His hand moves to your chin and pulls your head back so you can look up at him.

"You like to overthink? Hm?" He whispers and you blush but nod, admitting to being so trapped in your own mind. "It's ok, baby. I'll just fuck your brains out." He assures quietly against your forehead in an innocent and comforting tone before he kisses your forehead.

You can't help but hum excitedly and feel his thick cock slide out of you slowly. He moans lowly as your walls clench around him. "Fuck, baby. Don't wanna let me go?" He taunts and you giggle breathlessly.

"Fuck no. You feel too good..." You shiver and he smacks your ass.

"Yeah? Beg." He whispers and you moan softly as he slowly slides back into you.

"Please. Please, I-I don't wanna think more. Fuck me. Fuck me, please, bab-" You're cut off by him grabbing your hair hard and making you look at the mirror.

"Look at you. You see how fucking pretty you are? Hm? Did I get it through your thick fucking skull yet?" He whispers in your ear before slamming into you deeply, which makes you scream out in pleasure.

"Yes! Yes! Yes, baby. Yes!" You call out as he starts fucking you roughly.

"Say sorry for being so mean." He growls in your ear as he pounds you relentlessly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, baby..." You whine, eyes rolling back as he starts hitting your spot. "Right! There! Oh my god!" You scream out as he keeps going, no desire to stop just yet, smirking at how he had turned you into a moaning mess.

"Fuck me back, baby. Let me watch that ass jiggle." He orders as he grabs your waist to pull your ass up. You shiver and start to fuck yourself on his thick cock as he smacks your now red ass cheek.

"Fuck yes. Bounce that ass on me, baby." He groans as you watch through the mirror as he watches your body in awe. He really did love you...

You feel your heart skip a beat. He did find you attractive. He did want you. And you had him wrapped around your finger with such ease. You'd spent all this time treating him wrong, to what cost? He was still here. He still wanted you. Who were you to get in his way?

"Kiss me." You shiver and he does just that, kissing you sloppily as your bodies move freely...

Sunday:

"Congratulations, you two! Beautiful couple, really." The paparazzi calls out as he snaps more photos of you as you hold Jungkook's hand tighter while being led out of the coffee shop you'd just finished having brunch at. You both smile sheepishly at the attention and say nothing, deciding that a statement wasn't needed...

You get in the back of the car first so Jungkook would have some time with his fans, to wave at them and such. You see different girls screaming to him about how much they love him and for a second you feel a tug to your heart. An ugly 'what if' trying to rear its ugly head. But instead, you just watch the man who had made love to you all night long last night and feel your breath return to normal.

You had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to worry about. Because you had a man who could handle all of you just fine.

And you could handle him too...

#bts #bts army #bts fic #bts imagine #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

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hyuckmov · 1 year

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haechan — if i believe you

haechan x fem!reader 10.6k, angst & fluff, fake dating to real a/n: thank you all for waiting...this is the longest thing i've ever written :) i really hope that you can enjoy this and the emotions and everything are immersive and not too annoying with the miscommunication/repression i hope. these two are my favorite ever, quiet haechan is my favorite ever and i would love to revisit them maybe in a later fic. anyway, let me know if you like this!! thank you for reading <3 it’s a little difficult to be around your friend group when they’re all like this.

it’s a little past midnight, and you don’t know how it happened but the room has been split into happy pairs, all in their own world. movie on the tv forgotten, jaemin has his arm slung around a girl as they whisper to each other on the floor next to the couch, which is taken up by jeno — currently very endearingly laughing at something his girlfriend said. renjun was arguing with his girlfriend, but you know that neither of them truly meant it. you don’t know how it happened, but it seemed that this year, the trip to jaemin’s beach house had turned into a triple date for which you were seriously 7th wheeling. the sight makes your heart hurt a little, because you suddenly feel so crushingly lonely.

“still here?”

you almost forgot that haechan was here too. almost.

sliding in to sit next to you on the kitchen island, he was dressed cozily for bed: his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, smelling slightly of toothpaste and fabric softener. you didn’t actually talk to haechan that much, you were always closer with jaemin in the friend group, but sometimes when eating together he’d catch your eye after a particularly terrible joke, or you would raise your eyebrows at him for something questionable said. you had almost developed an entirely non-verbal form of communication in that way, the two of you sharing your humor, and yet you didn’t actually know a whole lot about each other. a part of you thinks that you know a different haechan from everyone else, because in all the looks you pass each other and the comfortable silence you share, the haechan you know is quiet and sensitive, with a world of kindness in him that made you feel calm. and although you know he can be obnoxious and loud, his laughter echoing down corridors and smile brighter than the sun, you much preferred the haechan you knew.

you also thought he was the prettiest boy you’d seen in a long while — something casual about the way he would smile, or wink at people, and his habit of poking his tongue in his cheek…but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“yeah, still here.” you exhale. “when did you make your escape?”

“about 30 minutes ago.” he smiled fondly at the happy couples in the room. “it’s a bit funny how the room just rearranged itself. i could’ve sworn jaemin was beside me at the dinner table the entire night but somewhere along the way he dematerialised and reappeared next to the sofa.”

“love can do that to a person.” you rolled your eyes, before pausing to consider that maybe haechan was not quite in the same predicament as you. “hey, speaking of, why didn’t you bring your girlfriend?”

because you were sure that haechan had a girlfriend, who he would sometimes leave gatherings early to see. you vaguely remembered renjun complaining about how he always had to walk her to class, never showing up to gatherings anymore because of some surprise or another.

haechan blinks at you. “don’t have one anymore. we broke up quite a few months ago.” at the guilt-striken look on your face, he shakes his head to reassure you.

“i’m over it,” he says softly. “don’t worry about me, okay?”

you can’t imagine anyone breaking up with haechan — haechan who was so gentle. with his radiant smile and his arms full of flowers whenever he surprised her. haechan who walked her to her classes.

“i’m sorry to hear that. you deserved better i’m sure.”

he smiles, and it looks kind of shy. “if you say so.”

“hey y/n-” you look up at jaemin’s voice, and realize that somehow, the room had emptied out while you were talking to haechan. the only person left was jaemin, who had just finished clearing the bottles and snack wrappers. ��we’re going to bed, i’m going to turn out the lights now.”

“okay, thanks jaem.”

he made to leave, but stopped abruptly. “ y/n, remember-” jaemin looked at you sternly, one hand on the light switch, one pointed at you.

“repeat after me: do not trust how you feel about your entire life past 9pm.” a pause, as he glances at the clock on the wall. “or 1am, for that matter.”

you laugh. “thanks jaem.”

“repeat it”, he insists.

“do not trust how i feel about my life past 1am.”

“good.” jaemin nods in acknowledgement to haechan, flicks the light switch, and just like that, haechan and you sit alone at the kitchen island, illuminated by the moonlight through the glass doors.

suddenly, it is so quiet you feel like you want to sit in the moment forever.

you look over at him, and haechan raises his eyebrows. it is a look you know well. care to explain?

“sometimes i get really emotional at night”, you explain. “tend to overthink. jaemin knows that because i’m always calling him talking about one thing or the other.” thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you started oversharing, you quickly promise, “but i’m working on it, don’t worry. i won’t do that to you.”

haechan smiles. “i don’t mind.” he blinks at you and supports his chin with his hands. “we have all night. tell me what’s on your mind right now.”

“really?” you look skeptical. once again, you and haechan haven’t really talked that much at all. you think this is maybe the longest conversation you’ve had with him, with so many words.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. but i’m just saying, i wouldn’t mind.” he smiles, and it warms your heart.

asking you softly if you would like something to drink, he gets up to make hot chocolate for the two of you. and you’re sitting there, not even trying, but suddenly the moonlight and the soft sounds of haechan padding around the kitchen are setting off a feeling of butterflies making their way to your throat from your stomach. there are shivers running up and down your spine because there is something tender and fragile in this moment that you can’t pinpoint, and a deep feeling begins to crawl its way, spreading through your toes and fingertips. all you know is it’s the feeling you get before you’re about to spill your heart out to someone.

“haechan?”

he hums, and the sound could break your heart.

“do you ever feel lonely sometimes?”

you hear the smile in his voice without having to turn around to look at him — its the one that starts at the corners and spreads slowly across his face. “so this is what keeps you up at night.”

“i’m serious, haechan.” running your hands through your hair, you are aware that you are beginning to sound like a rom-com protagonist, but you don’t care.

“sorry.” you hear the clink of teaspoons against cups as he stirs the hot chocolate. “i mean, i guess i do feel a little lonely sometimes. but it’s not…an all-consuming thought.” a pause. “i guess it is, for you though, isn’t it?”

you hesitate, before nodding because fuck it, this has been on your mind for way too long and jaemin was rarely helpful. always with his arm slung over another girl, you had a hard time getting jaemin to admit he got lonely sometimes.

choosing your words carefully, you continue your spiel. “it’s just…it’s insane to me how we are told that life is so romantic, that there are so many wonderful moments in love we can look forward to, but none of that is happening to me and it doesn’t seem like it will be happening any time soon.”

haechan comes over to you, and passes you a mug of hot chocolate. soothingly, he places a hand on yours where it rests on the counter. “you have to wait y/n. i promise, one day you’ll find someone who loves you, and all the things you’re dreaming about will happen.”

“you can’t know that for sure,” you press. “i mean, when will someone write a love letter to me? will we kiss in the rain in the park? will they run to see me at a new year’s eve party?”

“woah woah woah, slow down.” he nudges your mug with his, indicating that you should drink, so you take a sip of chocolate: it’s rich and warm.

“i’m sorry. it’s just over the years things just keep getting added to this list of love, and now that i look at it it just seems ever the more impossible.”

“love isn’t defined by actions and experiences,” haechan muses.

“but i want to experience these things,” you say, feeling a little shy at how raw this conversation was getting.

haechan smiles at that, at the yearning hidden in your small voice. the two of you sit for a while, nursing your cups of chocolate, lost in your own thoughts. enjoying the warmth of his hand on yours, you look at the glimmering countertop and choose not to say anything so he doesn’t move his hand away.

and suddenly, out of the blue, haechan asks you a question.

“just out of curiosity, what are some things on your list?”

feeling a little embarrassed, because really — sharing your romantic fantasies with someone was beyond intimate, you mumble, “just simple things. going to the aquarium. being a couple at the amusement park, on the ferris wheel. watching fireworks together. cuddling while watching movies in my bedroom.”

haechan thinks about it for a moment. you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. you sit in silence for so long, you’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about, or tell him it’s not that serious, when he speaks up.

“i’ll do them with you.”

you almost choke. “i’m sorry?”

“i’ll help you complete your list.” he looks at you, as if it’s a completely normal thing he’s just said.

“but…but i mean…” you blink confusedly. you were supposed to do those things with a boyfriend or someone you loved, not just as friends. that would defeat the whole purpose.

reading your mind, haechan added “it’ll just be like fake dating. i’ll pretend to be your boyfriend so you can experience all that you want to.”

you’re beginning to see a little bit of the haechan that you don’t usually get to see, as he grins at you and there’s suddenly something sharp to the smile you always found gentle. “the full, personalised, boyfriend experience. just so you can have a go.”

you laugh, but that’s just a cover for all the questions running through your head. “i-i don’t know,” you stammer. “does it even count if it’s fake?”

“you’re the one making the rules.” tilting his head to the side, his eyes glimmer almost teasingly.

“but what are you suggesting? what do you have in mind?”

“well…” haechan hums as he thinks about it. “i could do everything with you on the list, as your fake boyfriend. in the timeframe that we’re going about carrying out this activity i’ll be fully and completely your boyfriend, yours to hug and kiss and hold hands with, until it’s over. then we can go back to being…” he smiles at you, hesitantly. “friends? does that work?”

this haechan makes your palms sweaty, and makes your breath catch. this haechan makes you feel jumpy, and nervous, and impulsive. you think you’d do anything he asked in that moment.

“okay.” you say slowly, and he smiles wide. “wait no.” you hesitate. “wait, fuck it, yes. let’s do it.”

he laughs. “are you sure?”

“wait.” his body heat is radiating off his skin as all his attention is focused on you. lips still pressed into a smile, his eyes bright and far too mesmerizing in the dim moonlight. and you can’t help but wonder then, “what if we catch feelings?”

tilting his head to the side in consideration, he leans in close, one arm reaching out to cage you in. the two of you are nose to nose. you can count his every eyelash, see the constellation of moles scattered across his face and neck. his breath so close to your own, that your eyes can’t help but flutter shut.

“then that’s the best part.” he whispers.

you try not to think about how you felt when haechan leaned in, or the way the circles he traced into the back of your hand were still burning. you couldn’t help looking for the smell of his perfume on your clothes.

you’re way too easy, y/n. this is only the first real conversation you’ve had with him.

you’re about to turn off the lights and call it a night, hoping to some power above that you’re able to reign in your emotions come morning, when there’s a light tap at your door.

“y/n? are you there?”

it’s him. you spend about 5 seconds debating whether or not to pretend you’ve already fallen asleep, but curiosity eventually wins you over. crossing over to the door, you place a hand on the doorknob.

“haechan?”

you can hear him shift from behind the door, pushing it so it keeps shut. “y/n, wait, don’t open the door. i just want to tell you something.”

slowly, you remove your hand from the doorknob and the latch clicks back, shut.

“okay…”

he’s breathing softly, and in the quiet you can hear it as if he were in the room with you. “y/n, i’m sorry i sprung the idea on you just now. you can forget i said anything if it made you uncomfortable.” he shifts his weight from foot to foot, nervously. “especially the part about catching feelings.”

“it’s fine,” you say softly, but there’s a little disappointment stinging at you. does he regret it?

“but also, if you’d like, i would really love to do all those things with you,” the words come out in a rush, as if he’s trying to be brave. “as fake lovers. without feelings attached.”

you don’t know what to say, and you can tell that for each second you stay silent, haechan is growing less and less confident behind the door. you run things through in your head quickly. this plan meant that you were able to jump headlong into romantic experiences you’ve dreamt of for what felt like your whole life, without the potential of them being ruined by a bad date, or waiting for years more to find the right one. and most of all, you trusted haechan with this.

haechan is leaning against the opposite wall, looking at the floorboards, but his head shoots up when you open the door.

taking a deep breath, you look him in the eyes. “let’s do it.”

“really?” shocked, he reaches for you — maybe to wrap you in his arms for a hug, but drops them, remembering what he had said about making you feel uncomfortable. putting his hands behind his back to resist the urge to swing you into the air, his expression of surprise melts into a huge smile. one that makes you laugh.

“you’re more excited about this than me,” you tease, and because you just can’t help it, you step forward and give him a quick hug. “thanks for doing this with me.”

instantly, his arms loop around your waist, squeezing tightly. “thank you for trusting me.”

the butterflies in your stomach, however, tell you that you were maybe being a bit too trusting. without feelings attached. because would that really be possible with him, who’s currently making your heart race and your breath catch?

it was a week since the beach house. and while the opening of summer felt optimistic and hopeful, now everyone had to wander back to their lives and figure out exactly what they were going to do for the next three months. jeno and renjun had an ongoing bet that jaemin would be fired from his summer job within the week. and jaemin had a bet with you that jeno and renjun wouldn’t find themselves a job that entire summer.

but you knew exactly what you were going to do for the season. and it all started with getting in the passenger seat of haechan’s car as he took you to a waffles place for breakfast.

“hey.”

“hi.” he flashes a quick smile at you. “you look nice today.”

“really?” you adjust the collar of your shirt self-consciously, checking on your hair through the rearview mirror.

“no, i lied.” he laughs, and the sound is all too fitting for the morning sunshine that flits in through the windows. “yes, i mean it. i like your shirt.”

“my shirt?”

“just take the compliment.”

you can’t help a smile of your own. “okay. i will.”

for a while, he drives in silence. it’s a peaceful sense of calm that you think you’ll come to enjoy. there’s a lot of comfort in just sitting next to haechan, watching his hands move on the wheel, his careful eyes scanning the road.

“so, y/n, i took a look at your list,” he starts.

you had texted him a small list of the things you were thinking about doing. the classic dinner and a movie. going to the amusement park. sharing a kiss while watching fireworks.

feeling a little shy all of a sudden in his car, you nod. “is it a bit much?”

“not at all,” he says quickly. “i was just wondering how you’ve never done some of those things before. i would’ve thought going to the amusement park was entry level honeymoon phase stuff.”

you nod approvingly. “it’s sweet that you think so.”

“didn’t you use to have a boyfriend?”

“i did,” you muse. “i dated mark a while ago.”

“our senior?”

“yeah.” looking out the window at the cars passing by, you think back to your time with mark. “he was always nice to me. but we never really went out and did things. we broke up because i was someone who loved romance, and he wasn’t.”

“i see.” haechan hesitates. there was something about the way you talked about mark that unsettled him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “do you think you could get back together with him?”

“trying to pass me off onto someone else already?” you don’t pick up on the shift in haechan’s tone, and mistake it for genuine curiosity. “i guess i could. maybe after these years apart he wants something romantic too.”

although the morning was warm, haechan felt a sense of cold sweep through him. he tries to brush it off. “well, thank your lucky stars you have me now”

looking over at him, his hair falling slightly over his eyes, the troubled crease of his brow, your thoughts of mark immediately clear. “thank you,” you say, a little too emotionally for the early morning and this car ride.

he looks over at you, and his chest eases up at the warmth in your eyes. “don’t mention it,” he says, and smiling at you is the easiest thing in the world.

the line for popcorn at the movies had stopped moving. fidgeting from the cold of the cinema, you wrap your arms around yourself as haechan stands by you, scrolling on his phone for a deal that he saw for a discounted drink combo. one arm slung casually over your shoulders, you lean into his touch just a little.

today he was helping you out by taking you for a date. specifically, the classic dinner and a movie idea that has been long since rendered obsolete, but you had never had a chance to do. standing in line, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, you recall how he had showed up 5 minutes early outside your apartment, holding a small bouquet of flowers, and doing the thing where he flicked his fingers to splay out the two movie tickets he had ordered early on. the two of you had dinner at a nice italian restaurant, and he had offered to pay but you insisted, since you were technically making him do all of this.

“are you cold?” drawing you out of your thoughts, you turn to see haechan, concern causing his eyebrows to furrow and his heart-shaped lips to form a slight pout. “why didn’t you bring a jacket? you knew we were going to watch a movie.”

the line moves forward by a fraction of an inch, and you take a step forward, haechan now standing slightly behind you. “i completely forgot,” you whined. “i just haven’t watched a movie at the cinema in a while.”

haechan bites back a smile, and slots his phone into his back pocket. the arm that is slung over your shoulder drops to your waist, while his other comes to circle around you from behind, and before you know it he’s pressed up against your back. you can feel the heat of his skin even with the thick hoodie he’s wearing over. dropping his head onto your shoulder, you feel him smile against your neck. “there,” he whispers. “now you won’t be cold anymore.”

trying to steady your nerves, you stare resolutely ahead. “couldn’t have just given me your jacket like a normal person?”

he shakes his head cutely, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “nope.”

you make sure your voice stays resolutely calm. “then what will we do during the movie? you’ll be sitting next to me.”

the line moves forward and haechan straightens, but his arms never leave your side. “guess you’ll have to hold on tight.”

and so you do. he ends up draping the hoodie over you during the movie, and he clings onto your arm, head resting on your shoulder. you hold on after the movie when he drops you off at home, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself getting out of his car.

you hold on when he takes you for the next date at the amusement park; and when he tilts your chin upwards to press a kiss at the corner of your lips, your top-of-the-ferris-wheel moment, you squeeze his hands in yours and move so your lips slot against his. you tell him with your smile that it’s alright.

you hold on to him through your dates to the local aquarium, and to the beach. you let him pull you close as he drags you around the mall window-shopping, and as he guides you through clubs and restaurants.

and if some part of you gets scared that it might be getting too real, if some part of you feels a little hurt whenever he brings up the list or when he removes your hand from his, you ignore it as best you can.

“thanks for inviting me to this event,” you whisper, as you step into the doorway of the mansion, which really looks like a castle from the level of grandeur that meets your eyes. a man steps forward to take your coat, and you feel giddy.

“nah, sorry for stealing you away on some random summer night.” haechan smiles, and you feel a tug in your heart. in his suit, he looks like he belongs here with all this finery, the slopes of his shoulders and the slight cinch of the waist looking elegant under the chandeliers, the rings scattered on his hands catching the light in pretty ways. “besides, it’s all part of the experience, isn’t it?”

right. kissing and fireworks. trying to disguise the squeezing feeling in your chest, you smile back. “why do you keep bringing that up?”

“do you not want me to?” there’s something careful about the way he looks at you.

“i don’t.” you say, quietly.

“then i won’t.” he extends an arm for you to take. “tonight you’ll just be my date.” and with your heart thundering up your throat, he steers you into the warmth of the room.

you spend most of the night in the same giddy spiral of emotions, as he twirls you on the dance floor expertly, and winces dramatically when you step on his toes. your hands never leave each others’ grasps, as you stand around tables eating finger-food and drinking champagne. as the party went on, he introduced you through holding up your clasped palms to each of his parent’s friends, earning a lot of cooing and fussing about.

“haechan, how well you’ve grown up!”

“is this your girlfriend? haechan is so lucky to be with such a beautiful girl like you.”

“haechan! come say hello to the kids, they miss you!”

“this won’t take long,” he mumbles sadly to you, as an aunt of his insists he meet his cousins upstairs. “i’ll meet you at the bar, okay?”

“okay,” you smile, inwardly dying at the idea of haechan interacting with kids. as if he couldn’t get infinitely cuter. “have fun!”

“don’t let someone steal my date away,” he warns, as he’s pulled away. “i mean it – you’re mine tonight.”

you’re mine. you feel like you’re floating on a cloud as you make your way to the bar, you’re sure you’re at least swaying on your feet.

“woah.” a hand reaches out to steady you, helping you settle into a seat. “too much champagne?”

you gape at the man who’s sitting next to you now. “mark?”

fidgeting with the collar of his suit and looking very uncomfortable, he nods in greeting. “didn’t know you were coming to this thing.”

you look at him. he had gotten a haircut recently. but besides that in terms of appearance, he looked just as he did when the two of you were together, except for the fact that something about his demeanor was off. he looked tired, and there was something weary about his posture that hadn’t been there before.

“i was invited,” you tell him. “how are you here?”

“one of the ladies there is my aunt.” he pauses. “you’ve never met her. are you enjoying yourself?”

you think back to haechan’s smile as he sways underneath the lights, holding your hips. before you know it, you’re smiling too. “it’s a nice night. this place is really beautiful.”

mark studies you for a moment. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been alright.” you figure since there aren’t any hard feelings, you don’t have to make anything up as you would for an ex you were bitter over. mark was still a nice person, and he had been good to you in the right ways.

“it’s summer, so i’ve been going out more i guess. how about you?”

“i’ve been alright.” he downs his glass of white wine and signals for another one in a fluid motion, and you raise your eyebrows. shaking his head, he changes his answer.

“okay, things could be better.”

“why?”

“just been feeling a little lonely.”

you are so taken aback, that you let out a laugh. he looks at you, affronted, and somehow the furrow of his eyebrows makes you laugh even harder.

“i’m sorry,” you calm yourself down. “i wasn’t laughing at you, not really. it’s just…” you take a sip of your own drink. “i was in the exact same situation say a few months ago.” at his bewildered expression, you gesture. “please continue, though.”

mark shrugs and goes along with it. “i guess i was just realizing that i wasn’t as happy as i could be. there were times where i would be – i don’t know, having dinner, and i’d just think ‘damn. really wish i had someone with me right now.’ you know?”

“i do know.” you nod. “it’s crazy we’re experiencing the same thing, after, you know, so many years.”

“yeah.” he looks at you carefully. “crazy.”

“hey baby.”

a hand slides possessively around your waist, and you jump. the next thing you know, a pair of lips are kissing their way down your neck, as another hand snakes its way around you until you are fully in their embrace. craning your head up, you already know who you’re going to see.

“hi haechan,” you say breathlessly.

“sorry for leaving you for so long,” he murmurs, intermittently, as he continues to plant wet kisses on your neck. “the kids were going crazy.”

feeling like you were about to burn up into a crumble of ashes, you splutter out, “we have company.”

pulling away from you, haechan turns and stares at mark, coldly. “sorry, i didn’t notice.” his hand still draped over you, you can almost hear the forced normalcy in his voice when he asks, “and you are…?”

“mark,” mark supplies, awkwardly fidgeting with the coaster under his glass.

looking up at him, you see a flash of something race through haechan’s eyes, as he tightens his hold on you. “mark. well, hello, and goodbye.”

he pulls you to your feet, and you set down your drink hurriedly and latch onto his arm. “say goodbye to mark, sweetheart.”

“bye mark. things will get better, i’m sure of it,” you say, still left breathless by the turn of events.

raising his eyebrows, he turns back to the bar. “see you around y/n.”

“i don’t think so,” haechan chirps brightly, before tugging you away and past the throes of people, down a narrow hallway that was deserted.

“haechan, what are you doing?”

even in the dim lit of the hall, you can see his glower. “what were you talking to mark about?”

“i don’t know…” you shake your head, still a bit lost. “just about life, i guess.”

“did he ask to get back together with you?” he blurts out, suddenly.

“what? no!” you splutter.

“i heard him say he was lonely. who the fuck says that to their ex unless they want to get back together?”

you take the hard look in his eyes. hesitantly, you call out. “haechan?”

he huffs.

“he didn’t want to get back together, i promise.” he looks at you, warily. “and even if he did, i wouldn’t want to get back together with him.”

it is almost laughable how quickly his expression clears.

“you wouldn’t?”

“i wouldn’t,” you confirm. “i told you, i’m completely over it.”

“okay,” he sighs, in something that sounds like relief. and before you could even register it, he pulls you into a hug, crushing you against him. “sorry, i guess i got nervous.”

“that’s alright,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him firmly, feeling his heartbeat against your ears, and you smile when you realise it’s racing.

“hey it’s almost midnight,” he dips down to whisper into your hear. “do you want to go to the balcony to watch the fireworks?” as you nod, he leads you gently away from the corridor and through a set of glass doors, stepping out onto a beautiful balcony. the night air smells like honey and roses, and the sky is clear and bright with moonlight.

you feel a tug at your fingertips, and you look to your side to find him smiling as he looks up.

“what are you smiling about?”

he hums. “i’m smiling about the fact that my date is the prettiest girl at the party.”

you pretend to wrinkle your nose, and use your free hand to hit him on the shoulder. “corny.”

“you love it.”

and because it’s been weeks, and haechan is slowly making a home in your heart, you decide you need to at least start acknowledging the honest truth of the matter, so you don’t say anything.

as the night sky fills with fireworks and the people inside the party cheer, he turns to hold your face in his hands, the tenderness and warmth in his eyes unparalleled by the lights in the sky.

you tilt your face up to kiss him, and as his arms fall to your waist, with a jolt you remember his voice at the bar. hey baby. the term of endearment swirls in your chest, and makes you drape your arms around his shoulders and pull him just a little closer. the two of you don’t break apart for what feels like hours, as you lose yourself in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses, and the slight tremble of his fingertips on your cheeks. it feels and tastes as real as you have ever known.

except it’s not real. and you can’t ignore it. so you avoid it.

keeping busy and finally diving into all the things you wanted to do for the summer was your only way of telling haechan you couldn’t make it for the next ‘date’, or the next. you can tell he’s a little confused, but since the whole thing was your idea, he’s trying his best to respect whatever pace you’re deciding to go with. you push it all away, and you try to live life without thinking of him and his hands, the way he closes his eyes in bliss when the sunlight makes his skin glow, the way his hair looks after he tugs his hoodie off, and the feel of his lips when he presses his face into the crook of your neck when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

it’s late. you think you’ve definitely just had the longest day you’ve had all summer, running errands all around the city. all you wanted to do was lie in bed and put on a show that you could fall asleep to. lazily changing into your favorite pajamas, you set up your laptop on your bed, and you’re just about to press play when your phone screen lit up the dark room.

jaem: wru

one of jaemin’s summer house parties must’ve been today. you were so tired that you forgot.

y/n: too tired :( i don’t think i’ll go sorry

jaem: haechan needs you

you’re sure your heart actually stops beating for a second. haechan needs you. and just like that, your imagination kicks into overdrive, wondering what he could possibly need you for.

holding your breath, you watch the three dots on your screen indicating jaemin typing for what seems like ages before your phone buzzes again.

jaem: super hammered needs u to drive him home lol sry my bad that sounded weird

you let out a sigh of relief, but you can’t shake the adrenaline that rushed into you when you first saw the message.

y/n: can’t you let him crash at your place

jaem: he won’t stop ASKING for u it’s driving everyone crazy

a voice message comes through. he plays it, and it’s someone breathing really heavily. you’re beginning to wonder if jaemin sent this on accident, when haechan’s voice, low and husky from the alcohol, murmurs through the phone.

“y/n can you hear me? i wanna….wanna see you… please…i’ll do anything…”

“YOU’RE NOT BEING KIDNAPPED,” jaemin’s voice rings out, his words a little slurred but doing nothing to conceal the impatience in his tone. “GET A GRIP MAN.”

“PLEAAAAASE”, he raises his voice in an impressive whine, and you wince in second-hand embarrassment because you’re sure the entire living room must have heard that. “I MISS YOU.”

the voice message ends.

jaem: what a loser but yeah you get the gist of it

y/n: okay i’m on the way. can you get him on the phone?

jaem: do it yourself

on the drive there, you do call haechan.

he picks up halfway through the first ring of the phone. “y/n?”

“hi haechan. i’m on the way.”

“don’t lie to me,” he mumbles. “honk your car horn.”

“i’m not going to do that!,” you hiss, as if he were right here with you. “there are cars around.”

“liar,” he breathes. there’s a pause, and when you next speak you’re startled to hear his voice wobble. “liar. you’re not coming to get m-”

you slam your palm into your car horn, feeling your cheeks burn.

on the other end, he sniffles, and you presume he’s nodding at you. “okay. stay safe.”

“i will.” you hesitate. “is everything okay? did something happen at the party? are you hurt?”

he sighs over the phone. “everything is not okay,” he sniffles again, “because you’re not here.”

you swallow hard. you want to take a hand off the wheel and slap yourself, because you need to remember that he’s not himself right now, and he might regret this all in the morning. you calm yourself down before responding as lightly as you can. “haechan i’ll be there any minute now, okay? but you have to tell me if something happened and if you want to talk about it.”

he breathes heavily into the receiver. eventually, he mumbles out, “nothing happened.” shuffling, a pause, and then… “just miss you that’s all. i want to do more…more experience-y stuff with you.” more to himself than to you, he rambles on. “we’re falling behind you know. how are we going to finish this by the end of summer?”

a shot of pain twists at your guts, and you feel nauseous. so he really just wants to get all of this over and done with. you want to stop the car so you can throw up. you want to turn it back around. you’re suddenly regretting dropping everything just because he wanted to see you, because if this was why…

you keep driving on autopilot. the call has gone silent, but you can hear haechan breathing on the other end, and it’s driving you mad. you have no right to yell at him, but you almost do.

when you pull up at jaemin’s driveway, you clear your throat. your voice controlled, you say, “i’m here now. you want me to come in and get you?”

“okay. i’m in the 1st floor bathroom.”

the front door swings open, and you’re met with jaemin. at first, you think he’s going to tell you off for taking so long, but something in your face causes the words to die in his throat.

“y/n?” he asks. “are you okay?”

and before you know it, you’re wrapped in his arms in a hug and you’re bawling like you hadn’t for months. the built up pressure of avoiding haechan, of having to get into character as his girlfriend and having to get out of character just as often, and all your confusion at your feelings leave you sobbing and you just can’t stop. jaemin’s running his hands down your back and making soft, soothing noises.

you realise that you just really, really, missed your best friend.

“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. “i haven’t come round to see you ever since the start of s-summer.”

“it’s okay,” he shakes his head, and leans back to look at you, wiping tears off your face gently. “we’ve both been busy.”

but you shake your head. “i really need to talk to you. i need your opinion in my life.”

he laughs at that. “i never thought i’d hear you say that.”

you just go back to hugging him as you slowly calm down, and the constricting feeling in your chest eases. but after a moment, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check it you see that haechan has spammed your text messages with a bunch of ‘?????????’ and sad faces.

jaemin, ever the nosiest person in the room, is looking at your phone with a frown. “you never told me you started dating haechan, by the way.”

ignoring the twist in your stomach, you shake your head. “that’s because i’m not.” jaemin raises his eyebrows, and you elaborate. “we’re just doing coupley things. for the experience.”

narrowing his eyes because he knows you way too well, jaemin asks, “was this something you decided in the middle of the night? it’s sounding very classic middle-of-the-night-y/n ….” but at the look of frustration on your face, he immediately drops it. “okay, okay. not now. i get it.”

“y/n? are you here?”

you still, as haechan shuffles into view. he squints, until he confirms that it’s you, and suddenly he’s rushing towards you giddily and unsteadily, his socked feet slipping and sliding on the floor of the hallway until hes collapsed in your arms.

and there it is: his damn face in your neck again.

“wondered where you were, angel” you feel his hot breath against the base of your neck, and shivers shoot down your spine. “can i call you that? is it allowed?”

exchanging glances with you, seeing how this was slowly making you go insane, jaemin reaches out hesitantly to pry him off of you. “haechan, maybe it’s best if you stay at my place tonight-”

but haechan is quick to shrug him off, and with an agility that he shouldn’t be capable of in his state he pivots behind you and clings onto your back. his face once again buried in your neck.

“don’t wanna,” he shakes his head vigorously. “wanna stay with y/n.”

“y/n doesn’t want to stay with you,” jaemin starts forward again, making eye contact with you as he confirms, “right, y/n?”

haechan spins you around in his hold, with the most wounded expression you’ve ever seen from him, or anyone for that matter. his eyes filling with tears, his cheeks flushed and his lip wobbling in an alarming way, he chokes out, “you d-don’t want…to s-stay…with me?”

“i do, i do.” you assure him, trying to soothe him by drawing circles on his back with your thumb as he bites back sobs. over haechan’s back, you can see jaemin sigh defeatedly. “what am i supposed to do, he’s about to cry!” you hiss at him.

“he can cry on cue,” jaemin mouths.

pause. what?

you look back at haechan’s face, but every expression seems to be genuine: his bottom lip caught between his teeth and the tears shimmering in his lashes, his hands — which he barely seems to be aware of — caressing your sides nervously, as if afraid you were going to disappear into thin air.

“haechan,” you start. “are you lying to me?”

but that was the wrong thing to say. the better part of the next hour was spent trying to console a weeping and sobbing haechan on his knees, who would not stop clutching your waist and biting jaemin when he tried to pry him off of you. and then it was guiding him to your car, and another round of consoling as you assured him that no, you weren’t going to disappear as you were driving, and no, you could not drive one-handed so you could not hold his hand the entire way, but yes, he could put his hand on your thigh if he promised he wouldn’t do anything else.

you end up reaching, and then driving away from haechan’s apartment, because he would not leave the car without you and you figured that you might as well get a good night’s sleep at your own home. and somehow, you end up digging out some of mark’s old clothes out from the back of your closet for him to wear. and now, you’re standing between his legs, brushing his teeth for him while he looks at you adoringly.

he mumbles something intelligible, his mouth full of toothpaste foam, and you shake your head tiredly at him.

“nuh-uh. rinse your mouth out first.”

you hold the spare mug up to his mouth and his lips wrap around the rim of it obediently. turning to spit in the sink, he swivels back to face you, his arms never leaving your side.

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly.

“it’s okay. i know you’d do the same for me,” you say, patiently, because it’s true. if you were drunk, haechan would definitely drop everything to make sure you were safe.

that you were sure of, because that was just the kind of person he was.

“no,” he tugs his bottom lip with his teeth again, looking nervous. “it’s not about that.” his arms remove themself from your waist and he wraps them around himself instead. all of a sudden, you’ve never felt colder.

“what do you mean?”

he doesn’t look at you in the eye when he answers. “sorry for bringing up our deal. that’s not why i miss you.”

you think you could cry. “really?” he nods, but his eyes are still on the floor. “haechan…” you press. “look at me.”

he looks up. he looks so pretty right there, his heart-shaped lips and moles scattered haphazardly over his cheeks and nose.

“so why do you miss me?” you ask, hoping against hope. his lips part, and for a split second you think he’s going to lean forward and kiss you.

but then his lips press together. he shakes his head. and again. and then he slides off the counter, brushes past you and out of the bathroom despite you calling his name. and when you break yourself out of your daze and walk, trembling slightly, to your bedroom, you see him tucked under the covers, fast asleep.

“i still don't’ get this ‘quiet haechan’ thing you keep going on about,” jaemin chews thoughtfully on a forkful of salad. “but okay, i’ll bite.”

you’re having lunch with jaemin for the first time in weeks. with nothing much going on in his life for the summer, him waving you off when you apologised again about not checking in with him, the two of you breezed past your usual topics and quickly moved on to the elephant in the room: you and your fake relationship with haechan.

nervously, you pick at your fries. “do you think i should just tell him we can stop now?”

jaemin shook his head. “that’s not the main problem.” ever the mom best friend, he takes a pause for dramatic effect before leaning in. “the main problem is that your catching feelings policy is completely shit.”

you glare at him, but don’t manage to keep it up. he’s right. “you think i should ask him about that?”

“of course.” jaemin shrugs. “but you could also just confess and see what happens.” at your mortified expression, he raises a hand to calm you down. “you never know until you try.”

unwilling to address the fact that he assumed you were in love with haechan, and the fact that he was probably right, you argue back. “you’re the one who’s friends with the both of us. do you have any idea if he maybe likes me or not?”

“i’m not telling you,” jaemin says, stubbornly. “you have to make the decision and accept the risks it comes with.”

you put your head in your hands. “i really hate you sometimes.”

as it turned out, ‘sometimes’ turned out to be occuring quite frequently, because jaemin seemed hell bent on getting you to talk to haechan, even if it was through the most roundabout ways.

such as inviting the beach-house group of friends over for dinner the next day, just so you had a reason to talk to haechan.

and that led you to where you were, currently, jaemin putting the cap back on his black marker as the words “ASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY” scrawled over your wrist and palm.

“i’ll remember to ask him, i swear,” you say impatiently, trying to wriggle your arm out of his grasp, but jaemin was a man on a mission.

“i don’t trust you,” he insists. “this way, even if you don’t bring it up, he’ll read it off your arm, and you will both talk it out.” finishing up with a few exclamation points, he caps his marker triumphantly.

you’re about to head to the bathroom to wash it off, when haechan shuffles into the living room, and embarrassingly it’s as if your mind is wiped clean.

between the night he slept over and now, the two of you had only seen each other once. he had called to apologize for bothering you the night of jaemin’s party, and you made plans to have lunch together, not dinner (because night time was always an emotional affair for the two of you, as evidenced in the past few weeks).

sitting in the sun, staring at him while he talked, the two of you eating in semi-silence, was enough for you to realise that no matter what time of day it was you would always be a little too giddy over him. the two of you, in some sort of mutual agreement, had left it at that — him bidding you goodbye with a pat on the shoulder, of all things.

and now, standing in front of you, his eyes just as confusing with their tenderness, you think that jaemin may be onto something.

“so how can i help?” haechan looks around the room, his mind on the dinner. “do we have all the materials? or…”

“everything’s in the kitchen, haechan,” you nod in the direction of the dining table. “i’ll show you.”

haechan nods, more to himself than you. then, hesitantly, he starts, “y/n…”

something had to give. but not now, not as you felt everything in you crashing down, your heart threatening to spill over at the edges just at the sight of him again.

“we’re good.” you interrupt. “everything’s going to be okay, haechan.”

he bites his lip.

“it will be,” you insist. “we’ll talk later, okay?”

his expression clears a little at that. “okay.”

in the car on the way home, jaemin insisting haechan drive you, it begins to drizzle slightly. after the moment from just now, the two of you had almost been able to go back to normal, working side by side and sitting together during dinner. topics opening up between you, discussing what happened in the days you hadn’t seen each other. things were comfortable, and you almost felt like you could go back to ignoring the aching feeling in your chest.

it slowly starts to end when the car peels into the street in front of your apartment. the two of you go quiet, and haechan’s body is tense as he looks straight ahead.

you realise you hadn’t even brought up what you had meant to say.

“do you…maybe…want to come inside?” you suggest. “we could watch a movie?”

“it’s late.” he says, almost automatically. he looks over at you, and you look so hesitant and sad. fuck. something stirs inside his chest, and suddenly he wants to do anything to take that look away from your face.

“i mean, i could. just for a movie.”

you smile, and haechan relaxes.

cozied up on your bed, haechan in a pair of sweats he had left over some other time, you slump against him as your eyes flicker between watching the movie on your laptop screen, and watching him. something about the way things were going tonight told you this might be the last time you could be with him like this, and you wanted to cherish it while you could.

the music swells in the random drama film you picked, and you are feeling that feeling again, the one that you get when you’re about to spill your soul out, and even with haechan’s warmth against you — his arm tucked into your waist and your head resting against his chest, the reality that he wasn’t yours was crashing down all the walls in your heart.

he realises you’re crying before you do, as he registers the jagged breathing from your chest, and the soft sounds you’re making.

“y/n? what’s wrong?”

“i-i, i just.” you breathe, and your sobs wreck through your words, each one stabbing painfully at his chest. “i’m just s-so tired of not h-having someone who loves me that much.”

running a hand up and down your back, haechan makes soft cooing noises as you bury your face in his chest. “okay. so watching this film was a baaaad idea.”

you’re muffled sobs soak through his hoodie, and you press it closer to your face because it smells safe and it smells like him. your emotions running away from you, you splutter out, “maybe i’ll never find s-someone. maybe i just have to deal w-with it. these experiences are just t-temporary fixes, aren’t they? i’ll never find someone who l-loves me. i mean, right now i am so in love with you and you don’t even seem to c-care —”

haechan stills. he sits there, motionless, you still quivering in his arms, as his brain kicks into overdrive.

you’re in love with him?

incoherent, you’re still talking on and on, and suddenly he knows it isn’t something he should be hearing.

“shut up.” he says, quietly, but you ignore him and ramble on. “shut up,” he insists.

“you d-don’t want me,” you sob, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’ll be embarrassed about this later, but for now all you could focus on was the fact that haechan wasn’t reacting because he was probably completely disgusted at the idea of even being with you. “i-i started to ignore you because it was too difficult to be around you, and suddenly you show up drunk and asking for me, and then you just act like nothing happened and i have the feeling that i’ll never see you again-”

“fuck it,” he breathes, and suddenly he’s holding your face in his hands, moving you away from his chest. “shut up, y/n. please.” and then he is kissing you, his mouth moving on yours, begging you to understand. you think he’s drawing the breath straight from your lungs, and you’re sure your lips will bruise, but you kiss him back with even more fervor, settling your weight on his lap as you lean into him, and he groans.

breaking away from you, breathing heavily, he reaches for your hands and begins to press kisses to your knuckles, trying to ease you.

“haechan…” you start, because everything is so confusing to you at this moment. “don’t-you don’t mean it-”

“what’s this?” he interrupts, as he flips your palm up, raking the sleeves of your hoodie upwards so the words “ASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY!!!!!”, smudged but unmistakable, could be read even in the dim room.

“oh, y/n…” he whispers, reaching to stroke your cheek. leaning into his palm, completely lost in his touch, you mumble on.

“jaemin said our catching feelings policy was shit…” you blurt out. “and i agree. i want a new one. i want to be allowed to love you.”

gently, haechan continues to whisper to you. “you’re the one making the rules.” trembling, his arms wrap around you, and he rocks you in his hold tenderly. “you’ve always been the one making the rules. i would do anything you told me to. i would love you if you asked.”

you don’t understand any of the words he’s saying. “no,” you raise your voice a little louder, even though he’s still speaking in that low voice. “you don’t want me.” your eyes fill with tears, you can see it now: he’s comforting you, he’s lying to you because you’re crying, and haechan is nothing but good to you, a kindness and gentleness in everything he does that you just know you’ll never feel again.

“y/n that’s not true,” he shakes his head resolutely. “please believe me.”

his voice is patient and soothing, and it’s that tone which slowly calms you down. the gentle rhythm of his hands tracing circles on your arms allowing you to breathe easier, and relax a little in his hold to be able to really look at him. and it’s the worry in his eyes, and softness in the way he’s looking at you which makes something click into place in your head.

and so what if everything in your relationship with him was supposed to be fake — the dates, the moments he’s introduced you as his girlfriend. everything else in between had started to be real for you — the kisses, the time you told him not to mention the deal or the list or the experience at all and so he didn’t, brushing his teeth for him as he sat on the counter, skin brushing against yours.

and so what if it was real for him too — the times where he’s held your hand or pulled you close when you weren’t paying attention, the nights on the drive back when he would look over at you incessantly?

untangling yourself from him, you reach for the notebook and pen you keep on your nightstand. he doesn’t stop you, tilting his head in confusion.

“what are you doing?”

holding it out to him, your heart hammering in your chest, you gesture for him to take it. “write me something i can read when i wake up. it’s so i have…,” you take a breath. “it’s so i have proof that it’s real.”

something stirs in haechan’s chest. taking the pen in his hands, he begins to scrawl on the notebook, looking up at you as he’s writing.

“if you still feel the same way, call me as soon as possible, okay?”

“okay,” you promise, breathlessly.

the yearning in your eyes is driving him crazy. guiltily, he reaches for you again, and slots his lips in yours, holding you tightly against him. as if kissing you was the last thing he would ever get to do.

you have half a mind to move into his lap, wrap your legs around his waist and keep him with you forever, but already he pries your hands away from him and heads for the door, reluctance making his movements disjointed and shaky.

“go to sleep, y/n.” he says, gently. “i’ll see you soon.”

and with that, he’s gone, and you’re left on your bed, the note at your bedside burning a hole into your table. shutting away your laptop, you curl up under the covers, and somewhere in your mind you pray that the light of day doesn’t treat you too harshly.

dear y/n,

last night you told me that you were in love with me. i don’t know if it was the loneliness, or even if it was too late at night for you to be thinking straight. all i know is that i love you too. i didn’t think you would want me unless we were playing pretend. but now i can’t look at you without realising i am completely fucking in love with you. i’m sorry that you never knew, and that somehow i messed up to the point where you didn’t believe me when i told you. if you wake up tomorrow and you still want me, call me. i will do everything with you again if it means it’ll be real.

love, haechan

it’s a little difficult to be around your friend group when they’re all like this.

summer was drawing to a close, the optimism at the start and the feeling of endless days under the sun slowly fading to a blistering heat, which then slowly tapered out into a hazy sense of being in limbo. soon the seasons would change, the days get shorter and the nights grow longer, the loneliest parts of the year stretching out before everyone. the sense that this had been another summer of wasted potential, the sense of taking a deep breath before the dive, of holding love close to one’s heart and hoping it’s enough to last through the winter, hanging in the air.

you had walked over to jaemin’s apartment for breakfast with everyone, practicing the entire way. you were going to tell haechan you wanted to talk to him. pull him away from the group, and talk to him in a separate room. the letter from last night, from him, seeming to burn right through your palms, words you wanted to echo right back at him.

but when you opened the door, you realise he wasn’t there. instead, everyone else sat slumped around the living room, prodding at various snacks and cans, and waving at you lazily as you picked your way through them, looking for the familiar mop of brown hair and eyes you had come to love.

“jaemin,” you make your way to your friend, who’s crumpled into the couch himself.

“hey y/n,” he smiles at you easily. “how did it go yesterday?”

“well it’s still going,” you admit. “where’s haechan?”

jaemin furrows his brow. “i swear he just arrived. i think he said something about getting us breakfast.”

your body moves before you can think to, winding through the room and carrying you towards the front door and out into the driveway. and there it is — his car, slowing backing out. and through the window you can see him, looking over his shoulder, the familiar twist of his neck you knew so well. the arm he would throw over the passenger seat.

you call out to him, and by some miracle he hears you. he stops the car jerkily, and you rush towards him. he had just barely gotten out of the car when you fall into his arms — you think you never want to be separated from him again.

squeezing you against his chest, he murmurs next to your ear. “you read my message?” you nod. “i meant every word,” he says, kissing the crown of your head. “i know we’ve done this all backwards. really sometimes i just wish i could go back and ask you out like i should have done.”

“i don’t regret it,” you tell him truthfully. stepping back from his hold, you interlock his hands with yours, relishing the familiar feeling. “i don’t regret any of the things we did.”

“me neither.” he hesitates. “actually…maybe i regret getting drunk at jaemin’s party.” he shuffles his feet. “i missed you a lot, and i feel like i should have just told you then.”

“maybe.” pause. “or you should tell me again now, because i don’t think i’ve heard you say it.” and it’s something that’s a little teasing, because at this point you know he loves you just as much as you love him, but haechan takes it so seriously — straightening up, he holds your hands against his chest, looking deep into your eyes. you feel a little out of breath from the way he’s looking at you.

“i’m really sorry,” he starts. “for everything. i love you so much. everything i ever told you, every time we’ve touched, it was real for me.”

“and if i believe you?”

he smiles. and it’s a look you know so well, the familiarity in reading his expressions and talking to him without words hitting you full force.

“just tell me you love me too,” he says, softly. “not because it’s at night, and you’re feeling lonely, and not while you’re crying. was it real for you too?”

and even though you’re soon interrupted by jaemin, who urges the two of you to go get breakfast together. even though the two of you keep making lists of places you want to go, and things which feel like love to you — haechan presenting you with music to dance in the kitchen to, afternoons spent restaurant hopping and nights spent driving to look at the ocean and sit under the stars. even as winter eventually rolls around, and the two of you bundle yourselves up in the apartment, his cheeks perpetually a shade of red which makes you want to kiss him —

neither of you forget the way it all started. that first time he held your hand in the middle of the kitchen and warmed you all the way through. because everything was real. and in a way, it always had been.

#haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan scenario #haechan imagine #fic: if i believe you #nct fluff #nct angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst

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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

Text

It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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