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angelicdanvers · 4 months

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THE CLEARING | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader prompt: “i could admire you all day.” by @normal-internet-user

summary: a sweet moment in the clearing of pearls. takes place before tlt. wc: 1.2k

a/n: i'm back in my luke castellan phase and this time, unapologetically :') ik ik, he's the enemy. totally :D i haven't written in so long, i really hope you guys enjoy this! i eventually will make a collection of these on my wattpad (of the same username). have a great day/night! <3

camp half-blood was just as rhythmic as any other day. the campers were up and running, tending to chores or activities, chiron was introducing some new campers, mr. d had his legs hitched up on the table and was slumbering.

and yet — somehow — something still felt off to y/n. she couldn’t put her finger on it. for a child of ares, she was undeniably observant of her surroundings, ready to feed a punch, but she didn’t see nor feel anyone around.

often times, she realized it was her subconscious warning her of her siblings’ antics. despite coming off as a cold hearted bitch, y/n was quite the opposite and everyone in camp knew. whether they experienced her dual sidedness face to face, they heard of it and believed it. it wasn’t common for all the ares children, even clarisse, to like one person, sibling, mutually. yet y/n was that sibling.

she didn’t mind it. the eighteen year old was one of the oldest and made it her duty to keep everyone in check, even if that meant going against her easy way out — anger. her siblings often appreciated that despite not showing it, but sometimes clarisse had a lot to say.

this definitely wasn’t one of those times, though.

clarisse had just come by and helped y/n braid two of their younger sisters’ hair, the two chatting normally and without any apparent trouble.

then what in the world kept nagging her?

she kept sensing an odd aura around camp. maybe it was the gods’ doing. maybe.

sighing, she sat on the cabin floor, watching as the last of her brothers walked out. she began tying her laces, fixing the tongue on her boots. her instincts picked up as she heard soft crunches from the side of the cabin. grabbing her sword, she walked out diligently, observing the area around her and positioning the sword towards the crunches. she carefully examined the reflection, absolutely no sight of anyone. stiff, she shrugged off her unease, heading down the paths and to her clearing.

the clearing had a waterfall cascading at the heart, a sparkling little pool in the centre. for nine in the morning, the earth was still dewy and the crisp scent of the woodlands surrounded her senses.

inhaling deeply, y/n stepped towards her favourite boulder and slid her shirt off. one by one, she stripped down until she was in her bikini, and fixed her locks to be appropriate for swimming. once ready, she slowly dipped her foot in, the coolness of the water pulsing through her body and sending a jolt within her.

a mere moment later, y/n was wading in the water, beginning to take laps around the pool. she always had a surge of energy in water that always made her wonder if she was actually poseidon’s daughter — of course, she wasn’t, but maybe she had to thank him for her love of water. maybe. maybe it was just her and the gods really didn't impact her.

submerging underneath, the girl opened her eyes and scanned the bottom. on her lucky days, she’d find little pearls the nymphs would leave behind. she'd have to personally thank them one day. her growing collection was all towards making special beads for campers who’d been there for a significant amount of time, symbolizing their individuality. she was thinking of giving annabeth and luke one to add to their necklaces before all else.

squinting, y/n saw a shimmering area in the corner. charging towards it, she picked it up and examined it with her hands; the water was getting rather hazy. these pearls were heavier, and with more texture than she’d ever felt.

smiling to herself, she carefully held it within her palms, swimming further up and merging out of water. she felt the sun shining on her, and she braced for the sudden light adjustment.

and then the sun was gone.

her brows furrowed, and y/n cracked open an eye, glancing towards where she felt the sun mere moments ago. instead of trees and simple clouds, she saw a lean figure wearing an orange shirt and khaki cargos, arms folded across their chest. she knew those arms.

“gods, what are you doing here?” y/n questioned, slightly lowering herself into the water and staring at the male before her.

he stifled a chuckle, his signature smirk playing on his lips. “what? can’t a guy be with his girlfriend?”

“luke,” she warned, “didn’t we agree to not be around each other unless we actually had a plan to sneak off?”

the curly haired boy shrugged. “like that’ll stop me.”

“luke, c’mon. if anything, we can’t have anyone find out like this.”

he shook his head, “they won’t know a thing.” he nodded towards annabeth’s cap.

y/n had to admit, his desperation to be with her in any way was the most adorable and hot thing she’d ever witnessed. “did you at least ask her for it?”

“yes ma’am.”

y/n smiled toothily, wading towards the edge and climbing out. luke watched her every move, enthralled by her beauty. he wasn’t sure how he even convinced her to go on that first date, considering she had a knee on his chest and a sword to his neck. too bad he’s the best swordsman and pinned her down next.

how could she say no after that?

she found him quite intriguing as well.

luke followed his girl as she went over to the boulder, grabbing her towel and gently drying herself off. he headed up behind her, taking the towel from her arms and drying her back off for her.

“that still hasn’t healed,” he noted, tracing the scar on her shoulder blade. y/n’s body melted at his touch, and the chills she felt were replaced with flames.

“yeah,” she whispered as luke softly turned her around, wrapping the towel around her body. he brought her body closer to his, putting his index to her chin and tilting her head up.

“you know, i could admire you all day.”

“and why is that?”

he laughed, “with that sexy soul and sweet hobby of collecting pearls, how could i not?”

y/n felt her cheeks grow hot, a soft grin making its way to her face. “i could say the same, pretty boy.”

"who are you giving those pearls to?"

"if i said who, wouldn't the surprise be ruined?" she quirked, tilting her head to the side a little. "eh, word on the street keeps mentioning the best swordsman."

luke smirked, satisfied with her answer, his black hair gleaming in the sly sunlight. y/n cupped the left side of his face, tracing her fingers on the scar to his right. their eyes couldn’t leave one another’s, an enigmatic energy floating amongst them.

“i want to kiss you,” luke’s voice was lower than before, his grip tightening around her waist.

“do it,” y/n mustered up, fluster traversing through every bone in her body.

without second thought, luke pressed the girl against his body, capturing her lips. y/n’s fingers trailed to his hair, tugging at the curls as their lips intwined passionately.

the teenagers yearned for each other, their love enveloping around them as they remained in their locked position. luke’s lips were as light as a feather but had a hold on y/n that she was sure no other could.

breathless, the two pulled away for a moment before luke pulled her in again for a quick, feverish kiss. “i love you,” he rasped, staring deep into her riveting eyes.

“i love you, luke.”

their admiration could only grow from there.

or so they thought.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #charlie bushnell #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo x y/n #charlie bushnell x reader

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pandoraslxna · 8 months

Note

Lo’ak using visiting Spider as an excuse to come over and steal your panties to Jack off with later 🥴 he conditions himself thag your scent = getting off, and now he can’t jack off without them AND he has to hide his dick coming out of its sheath every time he gets too close to you

Addicted to you

adult Lo‘ak x female human reader

Words: 4.7k

Summary: The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret. The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.

Warnings: explicit smut, perverted Lo‘ak being a little panty thief, masturbation, scent kink, slight somnophilia (with consent), childhood friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, reader is spiders sister, oral (f receiving), obsessive behavior, Lo’ak has retractable genitals

Translation:

Tweng = loincloth

Tanhì = star, bioluminescence freckle

Lo‘ak, by all means, is no pervert.

He’s not a freak, even if some small minded people had called him that before. But that’s because of his fingers, and not because of this.

It’s hard to explain how any of this has even started.

It’s just, you’ve always been there. Always running around with him and his siblings, playing in the mud and chasing each other through high branches of trees. Riding piggyback on his shoulders, letting Kiri braid your hair. Crying into Neteyams shoulder when you scratched your knee and then letting grandma take care of it. Sitting by the campfire together, baby Tuk in mums arms while dad tells them stories from earth, from the place you’ve never even been before, yet it’s where you come from. Originally. But to Lo‘ak, you’re all na‘vi. Just like Spider is all na‘vi.

You’ve always been there, small little tanhì. Until you’re not so small anymore. And Lo‘ak isn’t small anymore either.

When they come back, years after seeking oturu with the metkayina, his eyeballs almost pop out of their sockets at the sight of you.

Small little tanhì, he scoffs at the memories of his childhood friend. You’ve grown. Not much for Na’vi standards, still the size of Tuk when she was like 8, but Norm makes jokes about you and Spider not being kids anymore, so he assumes you must’ve reached your maximum height. How cute, he thinks. Lo‘ak however, well, Max says he’s making dad competition now. Almost choked on his coffee when he first saw him again. Apparently you must’ve realized the change in his physical appearance too, because you said stuff like the ocean did him good and giggled when you asked what they were feeding him over there, squeezing the muscles of his upper arm with your small hands.

Apart from your size, Lo‘ak was surprised to see you in human clothing. He assumes, and maybe that makes him a little sad but he would never admit that out loud, that after his family had to leave and Spider was also gone for a very long time, you barely had any reason left to visit the village, other than accompanying Norm and Max to the lab. So you ditched the loincloth for a pair of pants and a shirt. That however, doesn’t change how beautiful you are to his eyes. His little tanhì.

Luckily, that’s pretty much everything that has changed.

Funny enough, because that meant Spider still had to share a room with you now that he’s back. Neither of you are very pleased about this, but as long as he and the Sullys are finally home, none of you would openly complain about the temporary living situation, until Norm had moved some of his stuff out of his office so Spider could move in.

The room you and Spider share isn’t that big. Two beds, a window, a small desk and a wardrobe, that’s basically it. It’s even more cramped when a full grown Na’vi lays sprawled out on Spiders bed, but that doesn’t keep him from coming over every couple of days to hang around like he’s still a lazy teen.

Lo‘ak still can’t get over the sight of you running around in these human clothes. They’re odd. Even worse when you wear them, when you’ve changed so much and there’s so much more, so much new of you to see and now you’re hiding it from his gaze, underneath those entirely too long and plain looking fabrics.

Lo‘ak can barely peel his eyes off of you, swirling around the room with a woven basked on your hip, picking up stuff from the floor while simultaneously nagging at Spider to strip and— pause.

"Anything else?" You ask, taking the shirt that Spider had just worn to put it into the basked.

"Nope", he says, pronouncing the p with a little pop sound. Glancing around the room for the final time, you spot a pair of dirty socks in the far corner and as you bend down to pick them up, something seems to fall out of the basket that you don’t notice right away. Before Lo‘ak can react however, you’re already out of the door.

Sitting upright on the bed, Lo‘ak wants to reach for the tiny piece of fabric that you had lost, but then he’s interrupted again.

"Oh shit, I forgot to give her my tweng", Spider groans, pulling a woven cloth out from where it was sandwiched between the mattress and Lo‘aks butt. "I’ll be right back, bro." And then he basically sprints after you.

Chuckling to himself, Lo‘ak now finally gets to pick up what had fallen out of your basket.

It’s pink and small, looks like a triangle almost. Too small to be any kind of clothing. No, there’s really not much fabric on it. Strange, he thinks. He turns it in his hands and then spots a tiny, white ribbon on what he assumes must be the front, and now that he holds it like that…

It almost sends him off the edge at this very moment as he realizes— It’s underwear. Great mother, those are yours!

Lo‘ak almost passes out as he spots a tiny wet patch on the fabric. It makes something in him throb, knowing that your cunt was once pressed there, your sweet, sweet pussy rubbing and pressing against the soft cloth, while some of your juices leaked out and stained the material.

He swallows dryly.

Your clit must have rubbed on it, too, he thinks before he can even stop these thoughts from coming. And Lo‘ak, by all means, is definitely no pervert, but he can’t help but imagine the cute little nub dragging across the fabric, the nub that he just wishes he could wrap his lips around and slowly suck, watching as you writhe and cry out from the stimulation on your sensitive form.

Lo‘ak doesn’t know, can’t even explain it to himself as to what has driven him to his next move, but he then puts the fabric to his nose and, almost on instinct, inhales.

The very scent of your sex on the fabric makes his head spin and his cock stir to life.

Oh, how he loves your scent. That filthy, sinful scent on your panties, the lovely fragrance enhanced all around the cloth. With each trembling intake of your smell that his soul inhales, the harder his cock grows, until it finally unsheathes, bulging a tent into his now entirely too tight tweng.

The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret.

The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.

Lo’ak now knows where to find them, knows that there’s a small woven basket in the far corner of your room, and if he lays on Spiders bed and stretches enough, he can just reach into it with his very fingertips. So when you and Spider are busy with something else, he so casually stretches his long limbs and grabs the first, black little slip he can reach, stuffs it in his tweng and then pretends that Neteyam is calling him through the throat comm or that he suddenly remembered he had stuff to do at the village or whatever reason is believable enough to hurry out of the door and hide somewhere in the forest.

Once his heart stopped pounding in his ears and his lungs stopped burning, Lo‘ak settles against a tree and pulls the small piece of fabric out of his tweng. Pretty black, cotton panties. Warm now, from rubbing against his skin on the way here. His hand twitches as he examines them in awe.

In all honesty, Lo‘ak really thought that the silly little childhood crush he once harbored for you was finally filtered out of his system after spending the first few nights at the metkayina village bawling his eyes out because he missed you so much. But no amount of other girls he tried to occupy himself with to forget you could change anything about those feelings that came rushing back to him like a tsunami, the very moment his eyes fell on you again, even after all those years apart. And now you’re all grown up, both of you are, and he’s not that awkward little guy anymore, had his fair share of girls to know how to talk to you, how to flirt and maybe even confess his feelings that could lead to something more, yet here he is. Cock throbbing in his palm with your slip pressed against his nose while he furiously jerks himself off to your scent. Like a pervert.

He was gritting his teeth as he stroked over his shaft, squeezing the light blue tip of his cock just right, forcing the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply, your scent filling his nostrils. His hand strokes faster, harder and he moans against the soft cotton.

Speeding up his movements, Lo‘aks hips were already bucking up to fuck into his fist. His imagination, those clear images in front of his minds eye, of your pussy dragging over the same spot he was rubbing his nose against were only egging him on more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Lo‘ak was chanting curses as he felt the coil in his stomach threaten to snap. His head was thrown back in bliss, your underwear pressed tight to his nose and he couldn’t help but bite down on the fabric to stifle his moans when he finally came.

And suddenly Lo‘ak feels like he’s 14 again, blushing like an idiot whenever you’ve hugged him, not getting the words out when it was just the two of you together.

He was so head over heels for his little tanhì, that this seemed to be the only way to give him some temporary relief, until he would finally get his shit together and gather enough courage to ask you out.

But before this could even happen, things were already getting out of hand.

The first time might be an accident, the second time not so much, but the third, fourth, fifth … and then the tenth time— that’s when he realized this was growing into some strange form of addiction.

Of course he made sure you would never realize what a perverted friend he was, always making sure to rinse his cum and any stains out of the fabric before stuffing them back to the basket in your room, switching them out for a new pair. But not making you realize how perverted he actually was, that was easier said than done.

Naturally, all Na‘vi had a keen sense of smell. Lo‘ak had always been able to smell your natural scent when you were near. And in the beginning, just holding your used underwear in his hands got him hard, made his nose twitch, fingers itching to get them closer, bury his whole face in them and inhale. It was intoxicating.

But Lo‘ak didn’t even realize what he had done to himself, up to the point he came completely untouched for the first time, just from smelling them. That’s when it finally dawned on him. Your scent was enough to get him off. He had actually managed to condition himself to this– coming to your scent, not being able to come when he couldn’t smell you.

Oh, that was bad, he thought. That was really, really bad.

Even worse, because you’ve always been touchy with him. Always hugged him, held his hand, jumped into his arms. And Lo‘ak was so used to carrying you around on his shoulders or his back, that it would’ve been strange of him not to. So now here he was, again, suffering from the consequences of his own actions.

One of your soft, squishy thighs on either side of his shoulders, the back of his head snugly pressed between your thighs and his hands holding your ankles so you wouldn’t fall off as you wandered through the forest.

Normally, he’s a good listener. But he has long stopped listening to whatever you were talking about, now that your scent was so close to his nose that his cock was already pocking out of his sheath and Lo‘ak was slowly loosing every internal battle of trying to keep it in there until they had reached high camp.

Every time you giggled or laughed, Lo‘ak could feel the vibrations against his neck. He could feel every shift, every drag of your clothed cunt against his skin. The warmth radiating from your core, the softness of your thighs on either side of his head, while dainty fingers played with his braids.

Suddenly there’s tug on his braids and Lo‘ak damn near whimpers as you pull his hair to get his attention and— no, no, no you had to get off, you had to get away from him, because this is all too much.

"Lolo", it’s the silly nickname name you gave him as a child, the one that still makes his eyes roll because you used to tease him wit it. "Are you even listening? I asked you a—"

"Sorry it’s just, you– you’re getting kinda heavy, tanhì." Two hands grab your hips before you can even protest and there’s a look of utter confusion on your face, once your feet meet the ground again. Too heavy, Lo‘ak mentally slaps himself. He can lift you up with one hand, so who’s going to believe that?

You look at him with your brows knit tightly together, eyes narrowed to scan him up and down like you were trying and could actually see through him and fuck, his body was working against him in this moment, because the feeling of his own slick coating his cock as it slowly slid out of its protecting sheath sends a shiver up his spine.

"C‘mon let’s keep moving, we’re almost there", he hastily blurts out, leading the way now, hands clenching into fists at his side.

Lo‘ak tries to ignore that your scent still lingers heavy in the air, even as you walk behind him. He also tries to ignore how silent you had suddenly gotten, tries not to look back because he knows you‘ll look hurt or confused, or both, as to why he had suddenly decided to put distance between you and him –and called you heavy, on top of that.

The entire walk back to the village was filled with silence, and even though it felt heavy in his heart, it’s what he needed to calm himself, to make his cock soften and breathing even, to put his focus on something else other than the flowery sweet smell that’s walking just a few feet behind him.

It’s not hard to guess why he doesn’t see you the day after that. Spider visits high camp alone, says you’re out with Norm somewhere to gather ar'lek seeds so they can plant them in the small herb garden in hells gate. He knows that’s just partly the truth.

The next day, Lo‘ak doesn’t even wait for you to come over, or not. Spider spends the day with Kiri anyways, and maybe that’s his sign to finally get his ass up and do something about this whole fucked up situation, apologize for acting so weird and put an end to his strange addiction.

It’s already late in the afternoon when Lo‘ak reaches the human outpost camp. He taps the code into the small keypad on the front door of the facility, puts a respirator on and walks down the hallway. Several turns later and he finds himself at your door, knocks ever so lightly, it’s almost too light, before slowly opening the door, crouching under the frame and stepping inside.

The sight he’s met with definitely gets his knees a little weak.

You’re curled up on your side, your lashes are softly resting on your cheeks, lips slightly parted with quiet sighs of sleep falling from them. Your shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing your hips and stomach to him, blanket nowhere to be found. His gaze wanders over your body, the curve of your waist, down to your legs and eywa help him, you’re not wearing pants. All that’s covering you, are those pink panties that seem very familiar to him and fuck, if that doesn’t make him swallow hard because he just realized these are the ones he’s first taken from you. The ones he had completely soaked in his cum until he nearly passed out, shooting blanks from how many times he jerked off with them pressed to his nose and then wrapped around his cock once he had completed inhaled your scent off of them.

And now he has to hold himself back, because your deliciously sweet scent almost suffocates him the moment he settles to sit on the end of your bed.

He can’t help the way his hands move on their own, just a soft caress up and down your thigh. Completely harmless, he wants to make himself believe.

You hum in your sleep, eyebrows pinching together for a brief moment before you relax into his touch. It’s like your scent grows more intense the longer he strokes his warm palms over your exposed skin, running up your thigh, the curve of your hips. His fingertips trace the cotton fabric of your panties, hooks it under his finger, plays with it, before he runs his hands back down your legs.

Lo‘ak feels his body heat increase the longer he plays with you like this. Feels his sheath opening up, the tip of his cock teasing against the cloth of his tweng, the retraining tightness of trying to keep it in there. His tail curls like he’s in pain from holding himself back, and then your thighs spread into his hands, opening up like a pretty flower, subconsciously presenting yourself to him.

He knows he shouldn’t… but he can’t help it.

Swallowing hard, Lo‘ak kneels at the end of the bed. Careful as ever, he pulls you towards him, holds you open like a five course meal on a silver plate with both of his hands on the backside of your thighs. He nuzzles his nose against your skin, tenderly. Inhales, places soft kisses here and there, moves further to the inside of your leg. His nose never breaks contact to your skin, you just smell too good, he’s completely lost in it. Addicted.

His breathing soon turns into shallow pants of air, his mind growing dizzy and pupils dilated to the absolute max as he continues to scent you like a drug.

The content little, "Mmh…" followed by the arch of your back as you stretch yourself, hands coming up to rub the sleep in your eyes away, do little to faze him now, let alone stop him from what he was doing. It’s too late to stop anyway.

Glancing down on yourself, Lo‘ak feels your breath hitch in your throat in a shy little gasp, thighs trying to close shut, but his hands keep them in place.

"Lo‘ak?" You ask, face flushing red and for a moment he comes back to himself and his heart aches because he thinks he fucked up, crossed every possible boundary, ruined your friendship because he got too lost in his perversion– but then you bite your bottom lip and brush your dainty fingers through his hair, cradle the back of his head and pull him closer.

He grins.

Lo‘ak doesn’t break eye contact with you as he kisses your inner thigh, fangs grazing your skin before he sucks a small hickey right there. He kisses the purplish mark on your flesh before he moves further, eyes on yours before he presses his nose against the cotton fabric of your underwear. Your hips rise off the bed, impatiently bucking against his face and Lo‘ak groans.

"You smell so good, tanhì", he murmurs, nosing your clit, nudging the little nub until a whimper falls from your lips. "So sweet, I just… sorry, I had to."

A soft laugh draws his attention from your clit back to your face and he lifts his head up to properly look at you.

"Don’t apologize", you say, chest heaving, "I was waiting for the day you finally decide to make the first move." He smiles at this. And maybe he blushes a bit too, but there’s barely any time for you to see it, before his face is buried between your thighs again. He inhales sharply, letting your scent cloud his mind and then he presses a kiss to the outline of your clit, feeling it twitch beneath the thin fabric.

Hooking his fingers under the waistband, he tells you, "lift your hips for me", and as you do, he slides them off of your legs completely.

You watch his eyes darken with lust once you spread your thighs further for him, watch him part your folds with his thumbs almost tenderly, brushing over the little hood of your clit to get it into his direct view.

"Don’t tease", you then whisper and Lo‘ak thinks, if only you knew how much he was holding himself back right now. "I would never", he chuckles, and you squeak when he grabs your thighs and pulls you closer, bends your legs so your knees are almost touching your ears.

Flattening his tongue, he then licks a board stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit, and oh tanhì, you’re making even the sweetest fruit competition. Lo‘ak groans, loud and shamelessly, once your slick juices run over his tastebuds like sweet nectar. Your hips jolt, moans spilling from your mouth as he closes his lips around the little nub of pleasure and sucks, hard.

You gasp sharply, hands fisting his hair tighter and mindlessly tugging as your thighs snap close around his head.

"O-Ohh god, fuck, Lo‘ak", you moan, back arching to get his mouth closer to you and Lo‘ak thinks it’s adorable. You’re panting, gasping and moaning like you can’t believe how good he’s making you feel.

Between your thighs, you hear him hum at your taste, your clit drags against his nose and those puffy lips, while he slurps your slick like he’s starving.

A glance up at you reveals that you’re staring sightlessly at the ceiling, slack-jawed and dazed, and Lo‘ak feels a surge of amusement and affection. So cute, looking almost as sweet as you taste on his tongue.

While sucking on your clit earned him the most of a reaction from you, he more often switched to sticking his tongue into your clenching hole as far as he could reach– which was deep, considering the proportions of a Na‘vi compared to a human. Like this, he could perfectly smooch the flat of his nose against the little nub that made you cry out, could smell you at the same time he was tasting you and that combination made something in him twist into a tight knot, daring to snap at any moment.

"Lo’ak, Lo’ak, oh– holy shit, Lo’ak", you moaned his name like a prayer, and the sound of it was send straight to his cock that had fully unsheathed itself by now. It throbbed heavily, pre-cum soaking his tweng and bringing friction to the sensitive tip once he’s started humping the air, hips bucking and thrusting, searching for more.

There’s nothing he wants more than to bring a hand down to his cock, get rid of the loincloth and start stroking himself, fuck his fist if necessary, anything to get the edge off. But his hands can’t, don’t, want to move. They’re perfectly comfortable where they are, holding your thighs, spreading you wide open while he devours you. He can’t bring himself to do anything other than grind his face against your pussy hungrily, tongue gliding through your folds, sucking and slurping and kissing until tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

"Lo, I’m close", you whimper, hands tugging harder on his braids and he loves it. "I’m- I think I’m coming. Please. Please don’t stop!"

And stopping is the last thing that’s on his mind.

Your tiny hole clenches around the tongue that’s thrusting in and out of you, and Lo‘ak can’t help but imagine how you’d feel around his cock. He wants to, he really fucking wants to split you open on it, bend you in every possible position and feel your tight walls clamping down on him. But this right here is his priority. He wants you crying out and coming on his tongue, wants to drown in your slick and inhale your scent for a good while longer before he can stuff you full of his cock.

"Yeah? You’re gonna come, tanhì?", he mumbles against your clit and your hips buck against his mouth, desperately searching for more. "Come for me then, c’mon. Let me taste you, give it to me."

"Uh-huh", you nod frantically, lifting your head up to look at him. Your hands tug on his braids, guiding him back to where you needed it most and Lo‘ak gladly complied your order. And then your hips were rising off the bed, and you nearly sobbed as you chanted, "m’coming, m’coming– oh– fuck!"

Your hold on his hair loosens just as everything below your waist tightens.

The sounds that were reaching his ears were a combined chorus of groans and high-pitched whimpers coming from both of you. While Lo‘ak feasted on your arousal, his tweng got equally as soaked in his cum than his face got soaked in yours.

You like the way that the gold in his eyes seems to glow up at you from between your legs, when you manage to pick your head up and look down at him. You like the way that his fingers dig into your skin as a stern reminder for you to stay there, and you like the way that his tongue continues to lave at you, despite the trembling of your legs.

The expanse of his tongue drags methodically against your cunt one last time, gathering your taste like he means to savor it. Then, his head raises, all glistening lips and prideful eyes, his hands sliding up your sides to hook around your waist.

"Holy fuck", you exhale a shaky breath. "Lolo, what the hell, where did that just come from?" You laugh in disbelief, a bit more than just breathless from the intense orgasm, and Lo‘ak chuckles with you, crawling onto the bed to settle himself between your thighs.

"Don’t call me that childish name when I just made you come on my tongue, tanhì", he purrs into your ear, grinning, and the feel of his canine grazing your ear sends a shiver up your spine. Lo’ak then nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing his weight down on you and if it weren’t for the uncomfortable slick and sticky feeling between your thighs, you could actually enjoy this.

"Can you give me my underwear", you whisper, blushing, "please."

"No", Lo‘ak tells you ever so nonchalantly, face still buried against your skin. Your brows furrow and you can’t help but laugh, "What– Why?"

"I‘m keeping them", he says, "As a little souvenir."

Hearing that, makes a completely new wave of heat wash over you, lightening up your cheeks in crimson red.

"Perv", you mutter quietly, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Hmh, yes I am. But you also can’t have them back because…"

Theres a pause, two arms snake around your middle and hug you tight, before he rolls over and drags you with him. You gasp at the sudden change of position, now straddling his stomach with him laying flat on your bed. Rising a brow, you look at him, waiting. Lo‘aks hands then grab you by the waist and he pulls you up in one fluid movement, your hands fly up to catch yourself just in time, both of them on the headboard of your bed now as your core hovers only mere inches from his face.

His breath his warm on your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body as it fans over the slick covering your inner thigh. Licking his lips, he grins up at you, the hunger in his eyes evident, as he says,

"Because I’m not done with you yet, tanhì."

6K notes · View notes

honnelander · 7 months

Text

go fish! part 3

here we are everyone! we made it guys! the much anticipated part 3 of the go fish! mutual pining series!! i cannot express enough how much this series means to me and that i am constantly blown away with how much you all love it too. it amazes me every day. i hope this lives up to the hype and that you all love it. and don't worry, there will be a part 4! disclaimer: i tried tagging everyone that had asked but a few users don't come up when i try tagging them, so i'm sorry :(

WARNINGS: none

word count: 4k

pairing: opla!sanji x jealous!reader

summary: reader sees Sanji get cozy at the bar with someone else and you get jealous as hell. Zoro sees the whole thing.

prequel part 1 part 2 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @abracarabbit @commanderfreethatdust @lordbugs @sweet-little-nothings @geisterfvhrer @kenkenmaaa @dazaisfavgf @fan-goddess @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @sapphireonline @dory-98 @redskull199987 @teenyforestfairy @acupnoodle

It really shouldn’t bother you...but it did. You couldn’t help yourself. Sanji wasn’t even yours, he never would be, and yet...you couldn’t help the wave of jealousy and annoyance that crashed over you every time he would be a little too friendly with other women. (At least, too friendly by your standards and, of course, you thought your standards were pretty reasonable.)

But Sanji wasn’t even yours (he never would be). You weren’t his wife or his girlfriend, hell, you were only just crewmates to each other, so there really should be no reason why you felt as angry and jealous as you did.

That still didn’t stop you, however. In fact, it just enraged you even more and you didn’t know why.

It was just a stupid crush you had on him, right? So why did it bother you so much when he would cast that perfect smile of his towards someone else? When he would wink at another woman and say some suave innuendo that he would never say to you? Or even touch their shoulders or give a hug to someone else when he’s never even touched or grazed your arm or shoulder by accident before?

“If you stare any harder at that glass, it’s going to shatter from all the daggers you’re giving it.”

You blinked, looking up from the drink in your hand and to the left, only to see an ever calm and nonchalant Zoro take a swing of his beer, keeping his gaze towards the bustling nightclub/bar you all were currently visiting.

It’d been a couple of weeks of straight sailing on the open ocean and everyone on board was going a little stir crazy, even the ever-happy-go-lucky Luffy. So, when the Going Merry’s captain had smelled a whiff of food in the air midafternoon up on the masthead that wasn’t Sanji’s doing, everyone had collectively decided to follow Luffy’s nose and see what lied ahead.

After a half hour of sailing, you all had stumbled across another ship-like restaurant that, admittedly, even looked better than the Baratie. So, it was an easy decision for the crew to decide to dock there for a couple of hours and give Sanji the night off from making dinner, much to the chef’s annoyance.

But it had all turned out to be the right decision in the end, apparently, since Sanji had made a point to visit the kitchen and give his compliments to the chef.

Now, all of the straw hats had made it to the outdoor bar area to ‘drink the night away’, as Usopp had so jovially put it, and you’ve been here ever since.

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, looking back at the nearly full drink you had in your hand. “Very funny Zoro. You know, you should quit piracy and be a standup comedian.”

Your green-haired crewmate turned his face to you with an unamused expression. “You’ve been nursing that drink all night.” He arched an eyebrow. “You ok?”

At that question, your eyes immediately went to Sanji, who had been at the bar for a majority of the evening, chatting with the bartender but, of course, as if on cue, another gorgeous girl slinked right up to him, batting her eyelashes and ever so casually rested her hand on his bicep, sliding it all the way down to his forearm as she giggled at something the chef said.

Sanji, on the other hand, flashed the new woman, the tenth this evening at least, you thought sourly, one of his dazzling white smiles, leaning forward slightly as if he was telling her some sort of inside joke, causing her to laugh louder and place her other hand on top of his. Sanji’s smile only grew wider.

You couldn’t help the stab of pain your heart felt at the sight.

“Never better,” you replied to Zoro bitterly as you quickly downed your drink.

His gaze didn’t budge. “You don’t look fine.”

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out Captain Obvious,” you quipped sarcastically under your breath, stealing another glance at the object of your affections. He was still chatting with that other woman, and you couldn’t help letting out a small breath as you felt the familiar sting of jealously deep within your chest.

God, it hurt. It hurt so goddamn badly, and you didn’t know why.

Zoro followed your line of sight and when he saw the Going Merry’s cook at the end of it, he hummed to himself, hiding his sly smirk behind his beer as he looked back at you. “Sounds like you need another drink then.”

“I guess so,” you sighed, sitting up and leaning over to grab the bottle of liquor that sat in the middle of your small table to refill your glass when Zoro stopped you.

“Nuh-uh,” the green-haired swordsman said as he put the heel of his boot on the table to block off your reaching hand. “If you want a refill, then you have to go to the bar,” he explained, nodding his head towards the bar, and, coincidently, Sanji. “This bottle is mine.”

“What?? Aw come on Zoro,” you whined. “I don’t want to go over there.”

“Oh? Any particular reason why not?”

It must’ve been the liquor, because you could’ve sworn you heard a knowing tone laced in his voice but when you looked at your friend, he looked as nonchalant as ever. Maybe you were imagining things.

“No,” you lied, your cheeks heating up slightly.

“Good,” Zoro said, taking a long swing of his beer, finishing it up and slamming the empty bottle on the glass tabletop lightly. “Then when you’re up there, get me another beer.” You opened your mouth to protest again but Zoro spoke before you could. “Since, you said there’s no problem.”

Shit. You were backed into a corner. And the only way out was to go up to the bar and be face-to-face with Sanji.

You looked back towards the crowded bar and felt another wave of emotion come over you. But these feelings were hard to discern. The pair was still talking at the bar, the woman still being a little too touchy towards him for your taste. You sighed slightly. Maybe when you got over there, he would just ignore you, since he was so engrossed in conversation it seemed. Part of you didn’t know if you wanted that wish to come true or not.

“Alright- fuck it, whatever,” you grumbled as you snatched your empty glass and made your way to the bar, leaving a smug Zoro alone.

As you made your way across the small dance floor and towards the bar, you felt your heart fill with dread with every step you took. You prayed to whatever God was out there that Sanji didn’t notice you but, of course, when you neared the bar, you noticed that the only open spot was behind him.

How fucking perfect.

“One beer and a refill please,” you quickly ordered, handing over your empty glass to the bartender.

“Y/n?”

Your heart clenched at hearing Sanji’s voice. Why did you think, for even a moment, that Sanji would ever ignore you? The man seemed to always notice you no matter what, even when no one else did, so why would he ignore you now?

But you couldn’t look at him. “Oh, hey,” you quickly greeted.

Sanji, however, didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t think you were a big drinker,” he commented curiously, turning his body fully to face you, leaning against the bar, and unintentionally removing the woman’s grip on his arm.

“I’m not,” you answered, casting a quick glance up at him.

The blonde chef blinked in confusion, his brows pulled together slightly, but before he could question you further, his ‘date’ for the evening quickly made her presence known.

“Sanji?” the woman called out sweetly, stepping to the cook’s right, placing her hand on his right bicep and the other on his shoulder as she looked up at him with a coy smile. When she looked down at you, however, you could see the look in her eye that was anything but sweet. “Who is this? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” she commented, tilting her head in fake misunderstanding.

Immediately, both you and Sanji straightened up, shaking your heads quickly.

“No, no, she’s not my girlfriend-”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you both denied simultaneously.

You quickly looked away from them, hoping to hide the rush of embarrassment that crashed over you and, to be honest, the sting of his quick rejection. It was just another reminder, you thought bitterly, that even though Sanji always acted like a complete gentleman towards you, you weren’t his girlfriend. He was just being nice, like always, and he would never like you how you liked him.

You looked down at your hands, quiet for a moment as you knocked a knuckle against the bar top. “No,” you said after a beat. “We’re not dating.”

The woman blinked, clearly unfazed by your admission, like she expected nothing less. She still had a fake look of curiosity on her pretty face. “Oh, right! Of course not,” she laughed slightly, in a way that made you feel small. “You must be one of the straw-caps then, right?”

“It’s straw-hats, actually,” you bit back, straightening up and turning to face this jerk of a woman, chin up high, sending her what you hoped was one of your meanest stares. This girl could be mean to you all day if she wanted to, you didn’t care, but you’d rather drop dead than to ever let her bad mouth Luffy and the wonderful pirate crew he put together. “And yes, I am one of them. I’m a pirate,” you stated proudly.

Sanji must’ve been drunk or stupid, because he didn’t seem to pick up on this girl’s bad energy. “Don’t you remember, darling,” he started, sending the girl a small smile, “I was telling you about my crewmates?”

“OH right!” She hit her head in an exaggerated manner. “I remember now, pookie. You said there were two girls on your crew, an orange-haired map girl and another one...” she trailed off, tapping her pointer finger on her chin like she was deep in thought. “Oh!” she exclaimed brightly and looked down at you, her smile sweet as candy but her words as sharp as a razor. “You must be the potato girl!”

Whatever air of pseudo-confidence you had was immediately snuffed, her words quickly cutting you down to size. “The- the what?”

“Yeah, don’t you like potatoes or something?” she laughed, acting like it was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard.

And to her credit? It definitely sounded stupid if you didn’t know the context behind the story. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to fight the urge to either cry or deck this girl in the jaw over her making fun of such a special moment between you and Sanji.

You opened your mouth, ready to shut her shit down when she beat you to it. The next words out of her mouth immediately sucked the air out of your lungs.

“Or is just because you look like a potato?” she asked, laughing her about ass off as she lightly hit Sanji in the chest, keeping her hand there, expecting him to laugh along with her but Sanji just stiffened at her side.

You, however, were too busy keeping your breathing under control and trying your hardest not to cry to notice Sanji’s reaction, or lack of. You could feel red hot shame bloom across your chest, the heat crawling up your neck and flushing your face as you looked down at the floor.

Normally, another girl calling you ugly would sting, sure, but not cause you to literally break down in tears on the spot. So why now? Deep down, though, you knew exactly why. It was because of Sanji. She had literally called you ugly in front of Sanji, the person you had a major forbidden crush on, and what if Sanji just laughed along and agreed with her? You didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. If he did, you would have to quit the straw hats because there was no way you could ever look at him again.

Not wanting to wait and see what his reaction would be, you started shaking your head, ready to mutter up some lame excuse to get the hell out of there when you felt an arm snake around your waist and a warm body press against your side, pulling you against them.

“Now, Madam, I don’t think those are the right words to describe the most beautiful woman in all of the four seas now, is it?” a deep, familiar accented voice asked from above you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you whipped your head up towards the voice with wide eyes, only to see the ever-beautiful Sanji look down at you with a small, soft smile, his eyes full of wonder and another emotion you couldn’t decipher, as you felt his thumb rub small, comforting circles on your right hip.

His look and touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t tell if he was acting or not. Your heart hammered in your ribcage as you searched his eyes for a lie, but all you could find was the truth, strong and unwavering, staring right back at you.

“I said: is it?” Sanji repeated himself, tearing his eyes away from you, looking straight on at this awful woman with his eyebrows raised slightly, like he was daring her to say something else.

Clearly not expecting Sanji to rebuke her as blatantly as he did, the woman started sputtering. “Well, I- I didn’t mean it like that, Sanji-bear, really-”

The blonde man raised his left hand in the air, immediately silencing her. “Yeah, I gotta be honest- I highly doubt that, sweetheart.”

At his condescending tone, you saw the woman bristle and nearly foam at the mouth, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. She huffed, looking back and forth between you both for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head in disbelief, saying, “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” She looked Sanji dead in the eyes, glancing at you, her eyes filled with hatred, before taking a step closer to Sanji, filling in the gap between them, as she whispered something into his left ear before stalking off and leaving the bar without another glance.

You quickly looked up at Sanji as she was whispering into his ear, confusion apparent in all of your features. Whatever she said to him, you couldn’t hear since they were both taller than you and the woman wore the highest heels you’ve ever seen, but whatever words she had spoken had left the chef completely stunned because you felt his body become rigid, the comforting circles his thumb was rubbing on your hip stopped, and you saw the muscles on his face freeze as he kept his stare straight ahead.

“Sanji?” you call hesitantly, instantly forgetting your own muddled emotions as you looked up to your heart’s desire. “Are you ok?”

At the sound of your voice, you felt him relax. He let out a little laugh (it sounded fake to you), as he looked down at you with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of, of course. I am.” But as quickly as he looked at you, his attention was stolen by the bartender placing your order on the bar in front of you. “Thanks, man,” he called out, removing his arm from around you and stepping away to grab your drink order.

Instantly, you missed the warmth he provided. You felt cold all of a sudden.

You shook your head once, clearing your head of those thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to analyze things like that. “Sanji-”

“How are you feeling?” he asked with his back facing you, beating you to the punch. When he turned to face you, drinks in hand, any trace of inner turmoil was gone. His eyes, instead, showed concern for you. “You know you’re beautiful, right?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your face before looking back into your eyes.

The look in his eyes nearly took your breath away. For a moment, you had completely forgotten what he was referring to. “Uh, w-what?”

He must’ve mistaken your confusion for disbelief because his next action nearly stopped your heart. “Oh, my love,” he started softly, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He placed the drinks on the bar, freeing up his hands, and placed them on either side of your head, along your jawline, as his thumb rubbed your cheek soothingly, his fingers gently entangled in your hair. Sanji gently tilted your head upwards, so your eyes connected with his, and the look on his face was filled with such tenderness and radiated a warmth that touched your soul. His gorgeous, tanned face filled your entire field of view, and you could feel his minty breath fan your face.

When the hell did he get so close?

You felt your cheeks heating up at the proximity, your eyes tried to look at anything but his crystal-clear blue ones. Your brain was sure to short circuit if you didn’t get ahold of yourself. You were going to do something incredibly stupid if you didn’t get space immediately. “San-”

“Y/n,” he said, his tone soft yet commanding. “Look at me, love.”

Your heart rate skyrocketed and you felt your breathing quicken. God, you could feel yourself getting a panic attack and you didn’t even understand why. There was nothing more you’d rather do more than look at Sanji but you didn’t know if you had the strength to do it.

You placed your hands on top of his wrists, fully intending to peel him off and push him away, mumbling, “Sanji, I can’t-”

“Please.”

In an instant, you looked into his eyes and what you saw nearly made your heart stop. His gaze was so intense, so piercing, his blue eyes seemed like they were staring directly into your heart and soul. Could he feel your rapid pulse through his fingertips?

When you locked eyes with him, you saw his soft smile grow. “You, y/n, are the most gorgeous woman to ever sail the four seas. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, I promise you that.”

With each word out of Sanji’s mouth, you could feel your heart breaking and it was dawning on you as to why.

But Sanji continued, his eyes sparkling. “And I'll be damned if I’d ever let that horrible woman make you feel otherwise. Alright, Missus?”

At the nickname, you let out a shaky breath and quickly blinked back tears. It was right then you knew, you knew it from the depth of your soul, just like you knew for certain that the sky was blue and the earth was round: you loved Sanji. You didn’t just have a crush on him anymore, but you were completely head over heels in love with him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, which might’ve been your heart, because you realized that even though you loved him, you could never have him. He was your crewmate, your friend, another one of the straw hats. He was someone that you promised yourself you would never cross “the line” for. Who you vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t risk anything for feelings-wise because you didn’t want the rest of the crew to suffer if you both didn’t work out.

But despite all of that, it didn’t make the truth any easier to swallow because now you were stuck. You were stuck with your stupid feelings and all it did was want to make you cry. You should’ve been happy right now at this sudden realization but no, instead all you wanted to do was go hole up in your room and sob.

And besides, Sanji would never return your feelings anyway.

“Y/n?” Sanji repeated, a hint of worry laced in his tone the longer you kept staring at him unblinking.

You quickly blinked, unable to stop a few tears from escaping your eyes, but managed to hold back the rest. You tried your best to fake a smile for him, but you could feel your lips quivering. “Sanji,” you breathed but quickly cleared your throat. “That, that was beautiful.” You looked at him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

At your thanks, Sanji’s whole face lit up and he winked. “Ah, anything for the Missus.”

The blonde cook didn’t make an effort to move, however. He kept his hands on your face and with each stroke of his thumb you felt tingles shoot down into your stomach (and to other inappropriate places), and felt goosebumps erupt across your skin.

You had to get out of here.

Carefully, you squeezed his wrists and slid your hands over his, gently prying them away from you, pulling them down and giving them one last quick squeeze in appreciation before dropping them. “Thank you, Sanji,” you repeated softly. You looked towards the bar, at the two forgotten drinks placed there, because you just couldn’t look at Sanji right now. “I, uh, should go bring these over to Zoro.”

“Of- of course. Right. Mosshead is probably quite pissed off at us but, ah, who cares what he thinks.” Ever the gentleman, Sanji went to reach for them. “Here, let me help you-”

“No!” you quickly intervened, grabbing them like it was a pot of gold. “No, no. I got it. Don’t worry about it. You should, uh, stay here and keep talking to the bartender. I think he was looking for you,” you lied and without waiting for his response, took the drinks off the bar, leaving a crestfallen Sanji standing there, watching you walk to Zoro and then, promptly, out of the nightclub altogether.

As you walked over to your green-haired friend, your legs felt like rubber and that you would collapse at a moment’s notice from the sheer weight of your thoughts. You, however, were so far gone that you completely missed Zoro’s Chesire cat grin.

“You and the waiter seemed pretty cozy over there, huh?” Zoro jabbed, his arms resting on top of the seat cushions and knees spread out like he had no care in the world. “I thought you guys were going to kiss or something for a minute there, but instead-”

“Shut the fuck up, Zoro,” you practically growled at him as you put his beer and your glass on the glass tabletop with much more force than necessary.

The swordsman lifted his hands slightly along with his eyebrows. “Whoa, hey now no need to-”

Instead of taking your seat back and sitting back down, you started walking past him and towards the exit without waiting for his response. “I’m heading back to the ship.”

As Zoro watched you leave, a clearly drunk Usopp slid in right next to him, gnawing on a toothpick, watching you as well. “Daaamn, Zoro,” the slingshot shooter drawled loudly, leaning against his crewmate and completely disregarding the other man’s personal space. “Did you see Sanji and y/n? I thought they were going to- pft, start making out or something!” Usopp exclaimed as he waved his hands in the air, mimicking an explosion and two people kissing. “Do you think they know they like each other?”

Zoro hummed, watching your retreating form and then looking towards the dejected waiter, who looked like a kicked puppy. “I don’t know Usopp,” he replied, leaning forward to grab his beer and take a swing. “But if they don’t tell each other soon I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

“Yeahhh,” Usopp agreed, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at the swordsman better. “You said it- oh! Is this drink taken?” he asked, not waiting for Zoro’s response before taking the beverage and sipping on its straw.

Zoro shook his head with a small smile. Sometimes his friends were too predictable for their own good. He just hoped that you and Sanji would start being predictable soon so you two could finally be together and put everyone out of their misery.

3K notes · View notes

godslino · 3 months

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MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #stray kids #skz #first date series

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mickyschumacher · 4 months

Note

Can we have a part two of baby fever?

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: pregnant with charles' baby, in a surprise turn of events, he's been able to keep his hands off of you. but just how long does that restraint last when he's faced with a problem: the tenderness of pregnancy? or in which, charles is struck yet again with the case of baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want dem babies), breeding kink (although atp idk), lactation kink, mutual orgasms, pussy eating, again pussy rubbing(?), cumming inside, reader is sensitive as shit again, poor interpretation of pregnancy terminology, fluff at the start and towards the end, minimal use of french endearments, a criminal minds reference from yours truly <3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: everyone wanted another one! sooooo here it is! i wasn't sure whether to do this during or after pregnancy but i ended up choosing the former. hope you like it ♡︎ see you lot next year :)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

You knew the exact day, hour, minute, and second the two lines on that test appeared and confirmed the wish you and Charles had been waiting for. But what got you there... now that was a mystery. It was like finding that one specific good needle in a stack of needles.

Ever since your boyfriend had mentioned children to you, you and Charles have spent more time acting like animals in heat. It was lewd, obscene, sometimes immoral given the places it happened, but God was it hot.

You were currently coming towards the end of your second trimester. Your baby bump wasn't visible to the naked eye when you wore clothes but no one would also deny that you were pregnant. Apparently, your baby girl (yes a girl, the already doting Charles couldn't be more thrilled) was the size of a banana.

Besides feeling sick, having odd cravings, and being unusually hormonal, you were heavily preparing for your due date. Honestly, you didn't need to prepare that much. Charles had been working on it himself with both of your families so you didn't feel stress. And as sweet as it was, you couldn't help it. You were having a baby for Christ's sake. This wasn't a paper you thought you could wing the night before.

Your eyes strained at the pile of pregnancy books Mama Leclerc had brought you, all new and updated with the times... her words not yours.

You liked to read. It was your favourite pastime. But this... this wasn't particularly enjoyable. Scary, if anything. How on earth did people get anything done with this much information? You have to have enough iron to prevent defects to the baby but not too much otherwise you could still harm the baby?

Huh?

You blinked and shook your head. Your eyes reverted to the also busy (reading) bee sat on the couch. You smiled softly at the sight of Charles. It was winter. The sun was still making it's visits but it was cold enough to put on the heater in the early evening. Charles wrapped up in that one cream knit sweater you brought him with his glasses and book five on parenting tips made you all warm on the inside.

You quietly walked over to him, pulling the book gently from his hands. "What are you thinking of, amour?" You queried, slowly removing his glasses from his face and resting them with the book on the coffee table.

Charles smiled at your presence, opening his arms so you could sit on his lap. His one hand automatically came to your stomach, rubbing your bump like he had been ever since he saw those two lines. The other held your waist, knowing very well your back had been getting sore without doing anything but walking.

He hummed in thought. "I was thinking about when exactly I got you pregnant. Was it the morning in the hotel room in the end of year party in Abu Dhabi? Or in the bathroom on the ride from Qatar to Texas? Italy, maybe? The wine was really good that night."

You gasped at his words, smacking him lightly on his arm. "You animal... and here I was thinking you were being all sweet, reading about parenting."

Charles grinned, blues eyes twinkling at you. "Hey, I have to tell our princess one day where she came from. And it won't be a stork. Maybe I'll say in my driving room in Japan."

Your mouth dropped in shock at the nonchalant shrug you received from Charles. You pushed yourself out of his arms. "Charles!" You practically screeched in horror, making a wave of laughter fall from his lips.

His arms quickly reached towards you, pulling you closer as your warmth was just beginning to disappear. "I'm kidding... mostly," Charles mumbled, smiling at your small glare.

You rolled your eyes, looking at Charles with sarcastic gaze before you narrowed it. "Also 'princess?' What about me?" You pouted.

Charles chuckled softly, holding you tighter. "You're still my princess, amour. But when our little girl comes, you'll be my queen."

You blinked, trying to suppress the cringe and embarrassment. "I'm going to go pretend to throw up because I'm pregnant and not because of you. But I'll find it endearing some other day... in the far, far future.

Charles sighed, shaking his head. "You're a menace."

You gaped at him. "I'm a menace. That's rich coming from you. Weren't you the one who was just thinking about which place we screwed each other to have this child?"

Charles winced, putting his forehead on your shoulder. "Well, when you say it like that..." He grimaced. Sucking in a sharp breath, he decided to change subjects. "How does brunch sound?"

Your ears perked up and your eyes squinted with a sudden happiness. "I'm cooking," Charles told you. You dropped your smile. "It sounds awful..."

━━━━━━━━━━━

After teasing Charles for his cooking, you did end up having lunch. Charles, who was initially terrible at making any morsel of food, had found his talent in making pregnancy food.

Even though Charles lacked knowledge about food, ever since you found out you were pregnant, he had made sure every single thing you ate was edible for you and your little girl.

It was amusing to be honest.

You had joined Lorenzo and the others for dinner at a restaurant and the moment a wine bottle landed on the table, Charles pushed the bottle away from you as far as he could, fearing even the mere particles of wine you could breathe in would affect you.

As entertaining as it was, it was sweet. You knew that Charles naturally had a fear of being a bad father. His own father was the kindest soul he had ever met, his role model. Living up to that was going to be difficult. Furthermore, he still wanted to maintain a high standard while racing. Similar to that of Sebastian. But even Seb had ended up taking some time off to spend with his kids.

"What's with the face?" Charles queried, eyeing from the kitchen as he finished drying the last plate.

You blinked out of your trance. A tired sigh fell from your lips. "My boobs."

The plate in Charles' hands almost fell. Charles' head snapped towards you. "I... your... what?" He spluttered, putting down the plate gently before walking over to you.

You smiled softly at his confusion. You were about to speak up but Charles suddenly jutted out his hands. "No, wait! Don't tell me. I've got this. I read now."

The comment elicited a small laugh from your chest. Nodding, you waited patiently as he pondered around you.

"Okay... boobs... uh, this is great. I actually can't stop picturing your boobs now." Charles gave you a pointed look. You raised your hands in your defence, signalling him that this wasn't your problem. Your boyfriend fell into thought again, trying to think back to all the books he had been reading. Was it chapter three or six? It wasn't exactly breastfeeding...

"Ah!" Charles clapped his hand, dragging a seat from the table to sit in front of you. "Lactation! Tender breasts. While the tenderness tends to be less during the second trimester... uh, what was it? The... the lactation, yes, the lactation may cause more discomfort instead."

You watched Charles delve into an explanation about the biology behind it as if he was Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Another side of him you were discovering through this pregnancy. Charles didn't retain much information unless it was about you or racing, but if it was related to pregnancy, little did you know, he would eventually become a wikipedia.

You blinked slowly. "So are you going to help?" You asked, cutting him off abruptly.

Charles paused at your words. He raised his brows. "Help you?" He enunciated each word clearly.

You nodded, leaning back into your chair. "I thought you were going clean me up," You whispered in a way that had Charles' cock jumping again. "Something about massaging my breasts."

Charles' mouth felt dry. "I did say that..." He trailed off before letting out a groan. "Ah, ma chérie, why would you say that? I–fuck. You know how I feel about this."

You leaned over, putting a hand over his knee. "Charles, the doctor said it's fine."

Charles felt strongly about your breasts during your pregnancy. They were bigger, heavier and fuller. It turned him on more than he imagined it to. But as much as he was waiting for you to lactate, Charles also felt strongly about not hurting you. 'Cleaning' you up would only make him want to have sex and he was terrified about hurting you or the baby.

"I know..." Charles murmured, sucking in a sharp breath. Your doctor who remained professional to the end when you asked whether you could have sex (much to Charles' embarrassment and joy) cleared you for it. Actually, they encouraged it, saying it was good and healthy for the both of you.

Yet, Charles couldn't help be worried. So much to the point where you hadn't had sex for well over fifteen weeks.

"I mean if you seriously don't want to," You told him, retracting your hand. "It's okay."

Charles quickly took your hand back with his own. "No, I want to. Seriously, you have no idea how much I want to," He said with his voice thick, sending a familiar tingle between your thighs. "I just..." He sighed, "You'd tell me if I hurt you, right?"

Your eyes softened. Squeezing his hand gently, you used the other to caress his face. You gave a firm nod. "In a heartbeat," You promised.

Charles smiled lightly. With your hand in his, he stood up. "Let's go to the bedroom, hmm?"

━━━━━━━━━━━

After taking off your underwear, Charles let out a low breath as he peeled off your shirt to see your bare breasts in front of him. He'd seen them when you got ready in the morning, it drove him crazy, but his fear always got to him first.

Looking at them like this, so close to him, it reminded him of the first time you had sex. Except, your breasts weren't showing such obvious signs of pregnancy: so full, almost two cup sizes bigger.

Charles pressed his lips together tightly, eyes glued to your breasts before flickering down to your stomach. He could see the bump a lot more clearly now that it was bare. The sight of it made him happy in far too many ways. It was like he was a teenager all over again. He wasn't sure what to do first.

Slowly, you encouraged him, silently bringing his hand over to your breasts.

A shaky breath fell from his mouth as a sudden surge of warmth came in contact with his hand. He moved his eyes to you, testing the waters by moving his thumb over your nipple. By your hitched breath and your suddenly dazed eyes, Charles could tell you were sensitive and completely fine. But he needed your words.

Bringing his other hand to your face, his thumb trailed of your lips. "Are you okay?" He softly asked, still grazing over your nipple.

"Charles," You let out a strained sigh, "If you don't move your fucking hand or do something, I will move it for you."

Yup, you were okay.

Charles chuckled quietly. His teeth sunk into his lips upon feeling a slight wetness at the pad of his thumb. He gulped at the white milk falling out of your nipple.

You eagerly watched Charles' head duck closer towards your breasts, mouth opening to wrap his lips around your milk covered nipple. A long whine fell from your mouth, head digging into your mattress. Your hand travelled up his neck and into his hair, eliciting a grunt from Charles as you pushed yourself further into his touch.

The taste on Charles' tongue was unlike anything he had ever tasted (well that he remembered of). It was sweet and creamy, coating his mouth ever so smoothly. It was a strange yet satisfying thought to think that while your body had made the milk, a part of him had participated in it. Technically, he had also made it. "Fuck," He hissed against your breast, realising your milk was far too addictive.

You let out another moan, tightening your grip on Charles' hair, feeling the grasp of his other hand on your other breast, twisting your pebbled nipple as he sucked on the other.

Your pussy was fully drenched, sensitive to any touch you received from Charles. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve the creeping arousal that was intoxicating you.

Charles grunted, short breaths falling from his lips as he parted from your nipples. You whimpered at the sight of him licking the white liquid from his lips. The look in his blue eyes was surreal; crazed like a monster that wouldn't be satiated until he had entirely devoured you.

He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a heated sloppy kiss. Your mouth moved against his, the taste of your own milk entering your tastebuds while your skin burned at his touch. Charles' breaths were heavy, chest rising up and down rapidly. "You taste that, princess?" He queried, lips lazily falling down your jaw. "You taste so fucking good," He rasped.

"Charles," You moaned out, hips jerking up at every tug on your nipple against a race of desperation.

"I know, baby, I know," Charles murmured with slight disbelief. He couldn't wrap his head around how sensitive you were. You were squirming and aching for his touch just by the touch of your nipples. His cock throbbed as his mind wandered just how you'd react to his cock or his tongue against your drenched folds.

Reluctantly, Charles moved his mouth away from your breasts, still keeping his hands on them, groping and teasing you with no mercy. Arriving to your pussy, he bit down on his swollen lips, uttering out a string of curses under his breath. He knew you were wet but not this wet. You had made a mess... the bed sheets were sported damp spots while your inner thighs were glazed with your arousal, ready to be eaten.

An apology quickly flew from his lips, making you furrow your brows. "For leaving you untouched," He murmured, hot breath dancing across your thighs yet cool to your burning folds. "Amour, I'm going to make up for it. Every fucking day," He promised.

Your stomach churned at his words while you drew in a deep breath. Christ. "I'm holding you to that promise, Cha," You whispered lightly, growing antsy with every passing second.

Charles grinned shamelessly against your thigh. "I should start now then, hmm?" He baited you by leaving soft kisses against your ample flesh, nose just skimming your pussy. He couldn't help but smile at the sudden gasp fallen from your reddened lips and jerk of your hips. You were clenching around nothing.

Your head dug into the mattress of your bed as Charles placed his mouth against your pussy, flattening his tongue and taking a long stripe of your warm folds. He sucked on every part of your pussy, darting his tongue on every crevice so naturally as if he had committed it to memory.

Your mewls that had turned into pure blubbers. You were sure you weren't making any sense. All that you knew was that Charles was eating you like he was tasting you for the first time, barely coming out for a breath while his nose rubbed against your clit, lapping at you like some sort of animal and it felt fucking phenomenal.

Charles' cock was uncomfortably and impossibly tight against his pants. He was struggling between continuing to eat you out because you tasted so good and prepping you for his cock. He was desperate to feel your walls again.

Your blubbers were now high pitched gasps upon feeling Charles' tongue drag to your clit, nibbling and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves as he propped one finger into your walls. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Fuck, Charles," You moaned, hips jerking up to get even more stimulation while your eyes were clamped shut.

Charles grunted against your pussy, feeling your toes curl while he thrusted his finger out of you. God, you were even tight around his single finger. He couldn't help but wonder how you were going to give birth. His eyes darted up to your face, watching your back arch, exposing your leaking breasts to more air while your breath quivered. He could tell you were close.

Charles promised he'd be gentle. But he never promised he'd be kind.

Your eyes snapped open at the sudden loss of Charles' touch and the quickly distancing euphoria. You whined in annoyance. Even now, Charles was a menace.

"I know, princess. I'm sorry. Fuck, I just need to be in you, hmm?" Charles mumbled in a hurry, moving his body up and scrambling to remove his boxers. If he kept lapping at you like the animal he was, he was sure he was going to cum just like that.

If this was any other circumstance, you were sure you would be cursing at Charles in French. But taking a look at his throbbing cock, standing strong and hard in all it's glory... it took the words right of your mouth and had sent all the feelings straight to your pussy. In fact, you were even patient in the mere seconds it took Charles to adjust himself over you, revelling in his dazed hooded eyes, the blown pupils and his sweat-glittered skin.

Charles place the finger he had put inside you on your lips, gesturing for you to suck your arousal off. Without any objection, you parted your swollen lips and took a slow and long stripe of his finger, tasting yourself on your tongue. A guttural groan came from his mouth. Any second longer...

You sucked in a sharp breath when Charles let his bubbling saliva slowly fall from his mouth and onto the aching tip of his cock, rubbing the natural lube up and down his shaft. Shifting his hips a bit, the both of you let out a low blow upon the feeling of his flushed cock on your puffy folds.

Charles hovered over your body, placing his swollen lips on your leaking breast, savouring the sweet taste of your milk while letting his cock rub against your engorged pussy. He could hear your soft whimpers, loud enough for the entire room to reverberate off its walls. A rippling tremble surged through his body as he rocked his cock against your folds, feeling your wetness soak mix with his saliva and coat him entirely.

"Charles," You mewled, "Keep teasing and you won't feel this pussy again I promise."

The threat you made was empty and weak. The both of you knew it. Yet, the mere possibility or even the thought made Charles quickly but carefully push his cock into your pussy. He grunted at the feeling of your walls around his cock slowly welcoming you. Shit... You were tighter around his cock than his finger, already clenching around him.

"Merde," Charles swore. "You feel so good, princess."

Your hands fell around his neck, loosely holding him to you as his cock stretch you out. You could tell he wasn't as deep as he usually was with the baby taking up more space but when combined with your pregnant sensitivity, it left you more flustered and blazing than ever.

"Are you okay?" Charles managed to grit out.

You gave him a rushed nod. "Move... please," You begged, struggling to keep your eyes open.

Charles' hips began to move faster at your command, rutting at such as speed that pushed his aching cock against your walls, lost in the pleasure your brought by gripping him like a vice. His eyes fell to your mouth. Your moans and whines looked as though they were going to burst out of you. Bringing his puffy lips to yours, he swallowed all your angelic and sinful sounds into his body like he was consuming your very essence.

His hand travelled to your hips before trailing to your bump. The things this baby had done to him before even confirming those two lines was beyond Charles. Pulling away from your lips, he almost faltered when he saw your face.

God, you were just so... beautiful. Your flushed face, lust-ridden eyes, sweat-ridden hair moving in all sorts of directions, skin even stained with his marks of love he had made unknowingly... all with that pregnancy glow... beautiful.

"I love you, ma chérie," He whispered out. "You're going to be the most wonderful and gorgeous mother in the entire universe. Our baby is going to be the luckiest child."

Tears pricked at your eyes as the pleasure still coursed through you. The coil in your stomach was coming to a breaking point while broken sobs came out of your mouth. Fuck, you couldn't even tell what you wanted anymore. Your hand reached out to Charles' face, feeling the small hairs on his face as you caressed him. "And you're the only person I would ever want with me... the only person who could be the father of my... our children."

Charles let out a faint high pitched moan. His hand moved to your abandoned clit, starting his abuse on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a silent gasp while he chased both of your climaxes, his twitching cock snapping into you. Everything around you began to blur while your orgasm hit you in big waves as his hips stuttered against you, spilling ropes and ropes of his warm, white cum into your walls.

Your body convulsed as Charles continued to rub your clit, taking advantage of your sensitive state almost selfishly just so he could see you completely space it out in the ecstasy of it all. You let out a soft cry, pussy clenching around him to take every last drop of his cum you could get as the last few waves of his orgasm shot through him.

Charles sighed, wincing softly while taking his cock out of you, making sure to fall down next to you instead of over you like he usually did. His sweaty arm brought you in closer to him, baby bump grazing his cock. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead he smiled down at your tired state. "I should clean you up more often, hmm, princess?"

You managed to roll your eyes, hitting him weakly in his arm. "You are awful."

Charles grinned, popping his dimples out at you. He nodded casually. "Yeah... but you love me," He teased.

You suppressed another eye roll and simply smiled, slowly succumbing to the heavy weight on your eyes. A yawn fell from your lips. "I do. I love you... a lot."

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #mickyschumacher

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avis-writeshq · 7 months

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summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ taglist [CLOSED]: here playlist: here status: complete

main masterlist || ao3

bonus! 00 — l.d.s.k

in other words, the first time spencer calls you 'angel'. // wc: 2.2k

part of my 2023-2024 milestone event! you can find it here!

01 — better than revenge

“she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”

you thought you were past the immature arguments now that you're an adult. you thought you left those in high school, or even college. maybe you thought you did. apparently, spencer thought otherwise. // wc: 10.4k

02 — haunted

“something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.”

it wasn't supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be a normal open-shut case. but people are unpredictable and you're left picking up the pieces as you work yourself to the grave. // wc: 10.1k

03 — labyrinth

“uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?”

everything hurts. it's understandable, after everything he's went through. spencer wishes that he could erase every one of his scars. he wishes he could stop chasing the highs and embrace the lows. but at least he has you. // wc: 3.8k

04 — you are in love

“you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.”

spencer didn't think that something like this could happen. no, rather, he wanted to deny the fact that something like this could happen. but all he can think about is you. in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. // wc: 3.4k

05 — enchanted

“please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”

the line drawn in the sand that was once supposed to be an invisible boundary to never cross is washed away by the sand. these are the kind of lines where you could never go back to should you cross them; and yet here you are, so scared to see the ending as the two of you pretend that this is nothing. // wc: 4.9k

06 — untouchable

“come on, come on, say that we’ll be together”/“i’m caught up in you.”

so close and yet so far. maybe in some twisted way, you are each other's romeo and juliet, doomed from the beginning. or maybe you are each other's hamlet and ophelia, the tragedy of a love that never really was. // wc: 4.3k

07 — wildest dreams

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”

never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would be privileged enough to experience something so good. spencer reminds you that these things are reality. // wc: 3.3k

reblogs are always appreciated!

taglist [CLOSED]: here

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal mind x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader angst #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst

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lalal-99 · 15 days

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Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people.

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

Masterlist Leave your thought

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hypewinter · 7 months

Text

Tim came down the stairs with an empty mug in hand. As he entered the dinning room he found a kid happily eating pancakes. Ah this must be the new adoptee, he thought to himself as he recalled last night's group chat.

"This is not a new adoptee," Bruce said looking up from the boy. Man, Tim hated when the old man guessed their thoughts like that.

"Say whatever you need to convince yourself B," Tim replied with a shrug as he went into the kitchen.

Bruce shouted after him, "He already has a family!"

The boy immediately interjected, "She's not my family silly! She's my friend."

Tim chuckled to himself as he filled his mug and came back into the dining room. "Aw B," he said smugly, "he doesn't even have a family. You're not saying we're gonna leave him on the streets are you?"

Bruce for his part, glared halfheartedly at Tim before turning back to the little boy. Tim also took this time to observe the boy. He believed Oracle had said his name was Danny. Danny was currently happily kicking his legs as he stabbed at his pancakes. Tim couldn't help but note how the pancakes had already been cut into bite sized pieces. Other than that, he seemed perfectly fine. No apparent injuries or adverse reactions to sudden movements. His clothes were also nice and clean. Probably Alfred's doing. Speaking of the old butler, he came in and set a plate down in front of Tim.

"Oh I'm not-" One eyebrow raise was enough for the young man to shut his mouth. He looked down at his plate only to immediately turn back to Alfred with an eyebrow raise of his own. "Mister Danny claimed it was not fair he was the only one to receive such special pancakes. He was rather insistent that everyone experiences such happiness this fine morning," Alfred informed.

Ah, that explains why Tim had gotten star shaped pancakes. He looked over at Danny who was smiling giddily at him. As Tim took his first bite of pancake, he couldn't help but agree with that assessment.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Danny?" the boy looked up at him. "As you know our... mutual friend left you in my care. As such after you're finished with your pancakes, what do you say I take you back home?"

"Ok!" the boy replied before shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.

"I think I'll tag along too," Tim said. There was no way this little "drop off" was going to go as planned and he wanted to be there to see it. After all, someone had to keep the group chat updated. Besides, he took great joy in Bruce's half perplexed half annoyed expression.

"Don't you have some meetings to attend today?" Bruce asked through gritted teeth, guessing his son's angle. "Nope," Tim answered sweetly. "My schedule's all clear today."

"Fine," Bruce relented. "If you want to come along on this very quick drop off, I won't stop you."

Tim smiled into his mug. This was gonna be fun.

-----

"We're here!" Danny exclaimed as they pulled up to an abandoned looking apartment building.

"Are you sure this is your home?" Bruce asked cautiously. Tim couldn't blame him, this place was on the outskirts of the Bowery and looked like nobody had lived there in years.

Danny opened the door and hopped out. "Yep!" he said. "I know because I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home." He puffed out his chest proudly.

"Right," Bruce muttered pensively as he examined the building.

They all entered the building and began ascending the questionable stairs with Danny taking them two steps at a time. As they climbed, both Bruce and Tim noted how rundown the building looked. Walls were peeling and there was rubble and trash all over the floors. The railing on the stairs looked so rusted that a gust of wind could probably knock them over. Most of the lights didn't work because of one thing or another which luckily wasn't a problem considering it was daytime. But none of that was even the most concerning part. No, the most concerning part was how silent it was.

As they walked down the hall, it was simply too silent. Even taking into account that most people would already be at work right now, it was still too quiet. There was no hint of people coming back from work the night shift. No sound of those staying home sick or someone with a day off. No dogs barked, no cats made any noise. It was an eerie silence that seemed to blanket the whole building. It was unnerving.

Danny stopped in front of a door and opened it with ease. There was no lock or anything. Once again adding to the list of concerning evidence. They entered after Danny to discover a shabby looking flat past the door. There was barely any furniture, and the furniture that was there looked like it should have been thrown out years ago. The floor boards seemed as if they would give way at any moment too. The windows to the far side allowed lighted in but that only served to illuminated the mountain of dust everywhere. The apartment didn't even look lived in. There were no clothes anywhere, no dishes, no sort of decorations, nothing.

Danny seemed undeterred by any of this and happily pranced into a room off to the right. Tim followed him as Bruce stayed behind to look around more.

As he entered, Tim was relieved to find that at least this space looked lived in albeit barely. The bed had Superman themed sheets on it and there was a backpack leaning against the closet. The bed also had a blanket laying on top of it which Danny ran to and grabbed. He came back over to show Tim.

"This is my most precious thing!" he explained excitedly. "My friend gave it to me. Feel it! It's super soft."

Tim knelt down and felt the blanket which was black and had stars all over it. "You're right," he said. "It really is soft." Danny beamed. "Told ya!"

Tim smiled at the boy's obvious excitement despite his less than stellar living arrangements. Just then, Bruce called for him. Tim returned to the main room with Danny in tow, still clutching onto his blanket.

Bruce turned to him and handed him a piece of paper with an unreadable expression. The paper had cursive scrall on it that simply read, Take care of him my knights.

Danny looked up at them both curiously and Tim just sighed. So much for this being a quick drop off.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

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01zfan · 3 months

Text

necklace | p. wb

fwb!wonbin x fem reader | 2.3k words

contains: mutual pining, fwb, a little crying

“can you hold my hand?” you whimper to his necklace.

you could never bring yourself to request such intimate things to wonbin’s face. you had come to terms with the fact that everything you did with wonbin was strictly business. you both met up with the mission to only make the other feel good, and then not speak until someone’s service was requested again. it was an ideal situation most of the time, you believed that you didn’t need something romantic.

you were also sure at the time you started your arrangement wonbin was seeing half of the girls on campus and had the other half chasing after him. your mutually beneficial situation happened randomly too, wonbin coming to you at a frat party. out of the crowd of pretty faces surrounding him, he came to you.

you would’ve never thought that him asking for your name would lead to you two dry humping on a secluded couch while the party raged on downstairs. bass from the music shook your skull as wonbin’s soft hands guiding you in a makeout session. it was passionate, biting lips and teeth clashing. you were basically fucking him on the couch as he kissed you, rubbing against his thigh that had slotted between your legs. you whimpered into his mouth as he kissed you when he’d purposely flex his leg for you.

he had you pent up to say the least, getting off without him having to stick a hand in your pants. you thought the fleeting looks was delusion, your mind making things up to spice up your mundane life. but you found out it was real and it was in front of you, and apparently it was in your face the whole time. wonbin moaned into your mouth about your beauty and talked about your body in between kisses. he sucked on your skin asking you why you were the one person to never give him what he wanted. unbeknownst to you he came in his jeans seeing you get high off of him. when your knee rested on his crotch he didn’t stand a chance.

that night set the dynamic for your relationship. you thought it was a one time thing until you got a message request on instagram from someone you didn’t follow. it was wonbin, asking for your number. you didn’t ask how he found you, or why he was thinking of you in the daytime. you only answered his question, giving him your contact information a little too quickly. you met him again and he fucked you properly in his dorm. you didn’t know anything else but his touch by the time you left his room, and when you were stressed about a paper you did the same to him. you rode his dick until he was a mess underneath you, nothing like the nonchalant man you saw walking around campus.

the arrangement was ideal, but you caught yourself thinking about wonbin and what he was like outside the bedroom. you didn’t think you would catch feelings. you blame it on his awful habit of kissing your cheeks sweetly while he was buried deep inside of you, or cooing to you affectionately and grabbing your hands when he’d slide in. it was better when he would fuck you senselessly into the mattress and you would sneak away when he went to the bathroom to clean himself up. that’s how it was in the beginning. after the act it was always like the veil was lifted and the intimacy was sucked out of the room. but over time something changed. you still remember the night when wonbin’s hand went to your balled up fist instead of your chest. even in your state of bliss you opened your eyes in confusion. all wonbin had to do was whimper a please and you opened up your hand to intertwine with his. after that night, something shifted. he used his lips for more than just pressing to your heat or neck, he would kiss you with a purpose and kiss your cheeks sweetly. you tried ignoring the way your heart would jump into your throat when he’d kiss your knuckles, or when he’d smile at you as you brushed his hair out of the way. but over time, you felt your heart was missing something. a different fire burned inside of you when you thought about wonbin walking with you to class, or hearing him call you his girlfriend. it was a fire that could only be temporarily quelled by crumbs of intimacy during sex.

naturally, you panicked. you made a bet with yourself to not reach out to him for a week, maybe no contact would cease the feelings. when he’d ask what your plans were for the weekend you’d say study and when he texted you before midnight you’d suddenly be on do not disturb. it only lasted until the next frat party you attended, basically after being dragged there by friends. the wonbin who was usually surrounded by girls was only with his friends, looking expectantly at the door like he was waiting for someone to arrive. you tried to avoid his smile the whole night but you folded. you let him take your hand as he lead you up the stairs. you were able to atleast pretend like you didn’t hear him over the music when he told you how much he missed you.

you thought that being apart from him for so long his affection regarding sex would diminish. but he kissed your face just as lovingly as he did the last time. wonbin did it all except hold your hand. you felt like something was missing if you couldn’t feel the pads of his fingers graze your palm, or feeling his grip on your hand as he came inside of you. you needed it, you needed him. you needed him outside of the bedroom and before the sun fell down. you couldn’t admit it, you had an intense fear of his eyes and how they alwats coaxed confessions out of you. so you looked at the necklace that dangled above your head as wonbin fucked you. it was silver and always adorned his pretty neck. you told yourself it was a gift from a previous lover. it served as a reminder that you were not wonbin’s and he was not yours. it put you in your place, stopped you from being delusional and imagining a romantic future with him.

wonbin was one step ahead of you, first using his hand to cover your balled up fist. it was just like the first time, and you could feel yourself swooning again. you slowly opened your hand up for him and he clutched it urgently, squeezing. you squeezed back, tears almost prickled your vision at wonbin tending to you so quickly. you thought about the awkward tension that would fall on you two after the fact. maybe this would be the last time, for your own sanity. it takes all your courage to move your gaze up to wonbin’s face.

he looks at your cute expression, pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows. wonbin can’t control himself when he bends down to kiss your forehead. he swears he can see your eyes get a little watery. he tells himself they’re glazing over because you were close to your peak. wonbin still couldn’t comprehend why you were so distant. he thought he was lacking as a lover, but the way you clenched around him told him otherwise. then it came to him suddenly, almost knocking him off his feet. he wasn’t someone you wanted to be with. wonbin was truly only the late night booty call, a placeholder for when you inevitably find someone you want to spend time with. wonbin was surprised you hadn’t found the man yet. he was surprised when you let him talk to you that first night you hooked up. you had never given him the time of day in class. wonbin could never tell you he had to hype himself up for weeks to approach you at that party. the whole night he was scared you would press a hand to his chest and feel his heart racing. but he got you, and was able to continue getting you. he wanted to see you, but that was something you kept depriving him of. he invited you to outings, trying to hide them under the guise of sex. what he actually wanted to do was take you to the new cafe that opened. if he got to end the night hearing you moan his name that was a bonus, not a requirement. you won each time. he was scared that he would never see you again, never knowing what he did wrong until he saw you come into the frat. you went back to the way you were before the arrangement, not giving him the time of day. wonbin was able to get you to extend your hand towards him and he felt alive. wonbin didn’t want to let you go, thats why he kept his grip on your hand as he hoists one of your legs over his shoulder. he gets to hear you moan and wonbin changes from the faster pace to slow and hard.

“you don’t have to ask,” wonbin says. “you’re so cute when you’re shy.”

he has to tease you to keep his composure. underneath all the jokes is the desperate need for him to call you cute everyday. to be able to hold your hand outside of the bedsheets. to walk around with you and see you in the daytime.

he notices your eyes go from his face back to his necklace. the piece of jewelry jumps up from his skin with each hard thrust. he feels the nails of your other hand dig into his body. wonbin can only tolerate pain when it’s you administering it. wonbin’s friends call him a masochist, constantly pining after you despite your arrangement. his growing need for something more than sex ate him alive. he wants to see you outside of the confines of the bedroom and he wants to kiss you when there’s other people around. but he settles for fucking you senseless every night you ask him to, because he’s nothing if not an optimist. maybe if he hit that spot deep within you enough times you would let him take you on a date. having sex with you didn’t help with his delusions. the way you looked at him in the eyes always made him run off at the mouth and your whines gave him confidence. this was an extremely dangerous combination. that’s why when he changed positions to holding your thighs to your stomach to fuck deep inside of you he started confessing everything.

“when are you gonna let me be your boyfriend, baby?” wonbin said.

he could see the sweat falling from his hair to drop on your chest. it made him feel crazy anytime something from him became a part of you.

“w-what?” you could barely speak, pleasure taking over everything.

wonbin couldn’t stop a moan from coming out. he leaned forward, using his body to push your thighs so he could hold your hand above your head. he watched your eyes go back to his necklace. it was so close to your face it rested on your lips, leaping to your nose with each thrust you took. wonbin brought shaky breaths and broken sentences of love confessions to your ear.

“i love fucking you,” wonbin said “but i more. i guess i’m selfish.”

wonbin started picking up his thrusts, grinding into you a little more to really show he was sincere. he wasn’t sure if you were clenching around his words or his actions, but you were getting close. he quickly changed the position, making your ankles touch behind his head. he knew you liked it from the back, especially when h’ed push your ass super close to the bed. but he had to see your face, he had to look at your eyes flicker through every emotion as your mind slowly comprehended what he was begging for. your poor mind was short circuiting off pleasure while trying to come to terms that your pining was mutual.

“let me take you out on a date.” wonbin says. his mind is going haywire too.

“i like you.” you say.

it comes out rushed and the words are bunched together but wonbin understands you perfectly. he kisses the beck of your hand.

“i like you too, baby” wonbin says back.

you moan again, even louder. between your confession, the sound of your thighs slapping against his body, and the way you convusle around him wonbin knows he won’t last much longer.

“call me your girlfriend.” you say, nearly in tears.

wonbin picks up his speed.

“can i cum in my pretty girlfriend’s pussy?” wonbin laughs. he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips. he’s on cloud nine, especially when you moan and nod your head.

“yes. please.” you whine.

the tears slip out from your eyes, everything is just too much. wonbin lets your legs fall from his shoulders so he can cum inside of you as you both are pressed together. he doesn’t let go of your hand, even when he lets go deep inside of you. he can’t stop tears from coming out either. you grip his hand tighter even after you’re done clamping around him. you pull wonbin close with your other arm. you two stay like that, clammy and in eachother’s arms. neither of you want to separate and both of you are nervous that the other one may have been just saying things in the heat of the moment. in the crook of your neck, wonbin kisses you.

“am i your boyfriend now?” he asks into your shoulder.

you giggle at your boyfriend trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. you give him an answer in the form of a kiss and staying the night instead of sneaking away to your own dorm. your verbal answer comes the next day. you’re wearing his shirt and a pair of his pajama bottoms when you come downstairs to see his friends cleaning the frat house from the nigh before. they look at you with wide eyes, laughing when they see wonbin trailing behind you on the stairs.

“i guess this means you two are official now?” someone asks.

“he’ll have to take me out on a date first, then we will see.” you say.

#requestz #01zfan: wonbin #wonbin smut #riize smut

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doitforbangchan · 2 months

Text

Little Tease - Bangchan

This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear

This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)

Masterlist

Not proofread :)

Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)

Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol

WC: 3k

MDNI 18+

He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right.

You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself.

‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty.

‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’

‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’

That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares?

It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway.

It was a Friday night around 10:30 and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever.

You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside, flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked.

It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth.

“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar.

“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.

The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it.

“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.”

Oh my fucking god no way.

“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter

“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face.

“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door.

Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?”

You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands.

You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far.

“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you.

“Sure. Thank you.”

You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris.

“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke.

‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you.

“Put me in my place?”

“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before. There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent.

It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.”

As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you.

Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough.

“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?”

“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.”

“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.

Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long.

“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath.

“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?”

Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer.

“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.”

That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real.

Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself.

“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly.

He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost.

“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping.

“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound.

You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?”

He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch.

Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore.

You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you.

Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?”

He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry.

“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.”

His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance.

You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric.

He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!”

“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?”

“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you.

Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly.

He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love.

“Please. Want it Channie.”

That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly.

“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn.

When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet.

When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.”

His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone.

Or maybe he would keep you.

It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.

“Channie…. ‘M close.”

Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.”

At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.

Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber.

You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin.

“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?”

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

#stray kids #skz smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan #skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #stray kids smut

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nadvs · 7 days

Note

okay so basically i was thinking that rafe and reader just had a kid and rafe has been neglecting them and reader for whatever reason and then topper or anyone comes over and since the kid hasn’t seen rafe in so long they end up calling them dad which rafe hears and gets mad at for a bit and then someone puts him in check and he apologizes to reader and starts putting more effort into the family🩷

🍓anon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You don’t understand how Rafe can be so heartless.

Whenever your son smiles at you, dimples just like his father’s, you wonder how Rafe doesn’t miss him. How he can drift in and out of your home, hardly ever present.

Your relationship was once so joyful. You ran in the same social circles, eyes on each other at parties, when your mutual friend Topper finally introduced you to each other.

You hit it off and started dating and then, six months into your relationship, your life changed forever when you stood tense in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hand.

Rafe was shaken at first. He was shaken for a while. It wasn’t until he saw the screen at your first ultrasound that he could fully understand that you were bringing a human being into the world.

And then he settled into the role, feeling genuinely hopeful about the future for the first time in life. He found a beachfront condo for your growing family. He filled it with furniture. He started talking about all the things the three of you could do together.

But as your son grew, the stress got to the both of you, leading you into more and more arguments with each other. Rafe became cold and distant.

You tried to talk sense into him, tell him that if he was falling out of love with you, that was fine, but he had to love your child. Regardless, Rafe kept drifting away from both of you, your once solid family breaking apart and deteriorating.

One afternoon, you text Topper asking if he can buy and drop off diapers. Rafe was supposed to do it but he hasn’t been home in days. You don’t want to bother calling him, knowing he’ll just disappoint you.

When he comes by, you can see it in Topper’s expression that you look just as sad as you feel.

“You okay?” He’s standing outside the door, handing you the box of diapers.

“I’m so tired,” you admit, voice cracking. “He’s barely even home, Top. It’s like he’s checking out.”

Your son waddles towards you, arms spread out. You wipe away your tears and pick him up, forcing a smile for him.

When he looks at Topper and babbles dada, your heart shatters.

“That’s not dada,” you say, kissing your son on the cheek. You look to your friend. “Sorry. I’m kind of a mess right now. Thank you for dropping these off.”

Rafe is at the club, drinking a scotch and gazing out at the golf course, when his phone starts buzzing, Topper’s name on his screen. He answers with a tired drawl.

“Hey, man,” he hears on the other line. “You gotta get your shit together.”

“What?”

“Your girl’s not doing so good. And your kid thought I was his dad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She asked me to buy diapers,” Topper says. “Shouldn’t you be doing that?”

Rafe can only angrily hang up, his blood running hot. You’re calling other people for help? Really?

He finds your name in his phone and calls you. But you don’t answer.

It’s late when he finally comes home, carrying two big grocery bags.

You just got your son down to sleep and rush to the door, shushing Rafe as he walks in. He’s pissed off that the first thing you do when you see him is shush him.

“What’s all this?” you ask, looking at the full, heavy bags he’s carrying.

“Apparently, you got someone else to bring you diapers,” he says bitterly, “but I got everything else we need.”

“How would you know what we need?” you say tersely.

“Don’t give me shit right now,” Rafe mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He starts to put things away, loudly opening cupboards and drawers, when you grip his arm.

“You’ll wake him,” you scold. Rafe turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing.

“I did something good,” he says. “Can you show some goddamn appreciation?”

“Am I supposed to thank you for buying us food?” you snap. “It’s your job.”

Rafe hangs his head, sighing deeply as he rests his hands on the hard marble counter. You’re expecting him to keep arguing with you. But his next words come out strained.

“He thought Top was his dad?” he mumbles.

You cross your arms, feeling a sense of vindication.

“Yeah,” you say. “Can you blame him? He’s the only guy he’s seen around here in a long time.”

Rafe cracks his neck, pacing away from you as he breathes deeply, circling back towards you.

“Why’d you call him?” Rafe asks. He hates that another man provided for his family.

“What, and not you? Like you’re so reliable,” you mutter. “Where the hell have you been, Rafe?”

Rafe’s been living in a haze. He can’t forget your last argument when you screamed at him that if he didn’t love you, fine, but he had to love your son.

Fine. You’re fine if he doesn’t love you anymore.

Rafe has never cried in front of you. He always stifled it or left the room whenever he felt the thick threat of tears in his throat. He thought he had to be a man.

But at this point, he’s too weak to put up a front.

When Rafe starts sniffling, your heart drops. You’re in complete shock that he cares enough to cry about this.

You’re speechless. You stand across from him, just as still as you were the day you learned you were pregnant.

“Home,” he replies, voice thin. He’s been staying at the house, ignoring everyone. When he gets stir crazy, he goes to the club. Either way, he’s been a shell of himself, carrying his sorrow wherever he goes.

“This is home,” you say softly. You look down at the floor, your brows pinched. “What happened? We used to be…”

“What? In love?” he mutters.

“Happy.” You meet his glossy eyes. “Now all we do is fight.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?” he mutters. You scoff incredulously.

“It takes two, Rafe,” you snap. “Is that why you bailed? Because things got tough? Your baby needs you.”

“But do you need me?” he says. His words render you speechless. An even harder, colder tension grows between you.

“You said you’d be fine if I didn’t love you anymore,” he says lowly.

“I meant…” You take a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” he mutters. “You’ll leave. I’ll barely see him. What’s the point in delaying it?”

Your head is muddled. Normally, you’d put your hand on his when he spins out like this. Talk him down. But he has hurt you so much lately that touching him would feel unnatural.

“I’d never keep your son away from you,” you say.

“But you would break up me,” he says. You’re so angry at him that giving him any sort of reassurance feels like a betrayal to your pain. He doesn’t deserve the consoling.

But then you notice a tear roll down his cheek and your heart softens.

“Is that why you’ve been like this?” you ask.

Over the past few weeks, Rafe realized he was always scared of being abandoned. Under thick layers of anger and disdain, he fears inadequacy. And why not leave before he’s left?

He stares at you in silence, as if saying his fears out loud will make them come true.

“It’s not on me. You stopped loving me a long time ago,” you say, allowing him to see a crack in your armor.

“I never…” he begins resolutely. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

“And this is how you treat somebody you love? By giving up?” you say. “I’ve been doing everything alone. Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, the guilt he’s been repressing flooding him all at once. He knows he’s failing you. Failing your family.

He won’t say anything else. He can’t.

“If you’re sleeping here tonight, you can take the couch,” you say, pacing out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to even lie next to you.”

Rafe doesn’t give into the impulse to leave, even though his fears and anxieties are screaming at him to. He settles onto the couch. It takes him an hour to fall asleep.

When you wake up to your son’s crying from the nursery at dawn, you hear Rafe’s soft, tired voice consoling him. You drift back off into sleep, sure he’ll call you for help within minutes.

When consciousness slowly pulls you out of your slumber, you can tell by the brightness in your room that it’s well past sunrise. When you check your phone, you’re shocked to see that you slept until noon.

You head downstairs, your chest tightening when you see Rafe playing with your son, his smile bright.

Rafe’s blue eyes meet yours. He gave you the gift of rest, something you’ve been dying for.

“I’m not giving up,” Rafe says. “If you break up with me, I want to know that at least, I… I tried my hardest.”

“If you try your hardest, I won’t break up with you,” you tell him, still harboring hostility.

Instead of arguing with you, Rafe simply nods. You’re shocked he doesn’t have a nasty retort.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, planting a kiss on your son’s head, earning giggles from him. “Both of you.”

His tone and gaze are so sincere that you almost believe him. It’ll take a while for you to trust him again, but he’ll wait it out as long as he needs to.

#anon this prompt is so good and ANGSTY #i don’t usually write a mean rafe so i hope you like it 🤭#blurb #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #🍓 anon

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neechees · 3 months

Text

I am putting out a warning for the blog @/blktransdyke for very likely being a scammer, and is/was the same person behind the now deactivated blog @/raisedeyebrowemojii (who is also very likely a scammer) for the following reasons:

Usage of a very common story one particular scammer constantly reuses across multiple blogs (which i've talked about here before)

Several typical scammer red flags: Their blog has only existed since April 2023, and they started asking for money immediately. The blog only posted for the month of April and then did not post for months only to come back in January 2024, and start asking for money again

Their blog is sparse of anything denoting a personality, personal interests, friendly interactions with mutuals or followers, aesthetic choices and/or blog customization, and the only thing they reblog is also mentioned in their bio, thus indicating a falsified persona for a scam blog. (Ex: they say they are a lesbian, and so have a few posts about lesbianism, and the rest of the posts are almost exclusively fundraising posts)

Inconsistent information

Suspicious behavior on twitter, which was also noted and called out on twitter

Claiming to be homeless, but apparently rejected the non-monetary aid from another user who offered to house them

Claims to be "Indigenous" but then misuses the terminology of their alleged tribe (thus likely indicating racefaking for a scam persona)

No proof of their claims

Posting the same personal information as two other suspicious accounts while call three claim to be different people (& this is connected to the raisedeyebrowemojii blog)

& you know me, I always come with screenshots and proof. Image descriptions will be available in Alt text. (& please bear with me, some screenshots lead to imgur due to tumblr limiting images to 10).

First off, the suspicious story that is often reused by one particular scammer:

There's a scammer on here that ALWAYS uses the same story of:

Claiming to be trans,

claiming to be homeless,

Says they are homeless because they were/are being kicked out by a bigoted/homophobic/transphobic parent

Shows a screenshot of a IM or text message correspondence between them, and their alleged parent, where the parent is being abusive, and the messages always very concisely, very conveniently mention what is happening

Usually says they are disabled in some way (though before they would usually claim to be autistic)

The blktransdyke blog has all five of these things.

Im putting the rest under the cut because this is gunna get long, buckle in.

Secondly, inconsistent information, rejecting non-monetary aid, & suspicious Twitter activity (& this is also connected to the creation date of their tumblr account, which you'll see in a moment):

The blog blktransdyke uses two methods of recieving money, gofundme, which is linked on their main page and is run by someone named "Avalon Smith" (& we can assume this is the name they prefer to go by, because they have the tag "avalon speaks" on their blog), and this gofundme account says its based in York, Ontario. And the second is paypal, which uses a different name, which is "Ashton Jones" & the paypal url of "/ashtonjonesy". Below, the first screenshot on the very left, is a screenshot of the first post they made asking for money on April 14th 2023 while linking to the gofundme account, and then the second screenshot to the right is the blktransdyke's more recent donation post asking for money to be sent to the ashtonjonesy paypal account, and then here is a link to a screenshot of the gfm run by "Avalon Smith".

The consistencies are odd: and while one might think that "Ashton Jones" is an older name or a dead name, but if you search up "ashtonjonesy" in a search engine, you get two results: one leads to a post made by a now deleted twitter/X account with the url "blktransdyke" while using that same paypal (so we can assume this is the same person from twitter/X) and the second is ANOTHER twitter account, still up, that is completely different, also using the twitter url that is the same as the paypal username (/ashtonjonesy) who also claims to be homeless & kicked out by a transphobic parent, but says they have different pronouns than blktransdyke & seems to be transmasc, not a binary trans lesbian that blktransdyke claims to be. Below is screenshots of that.

But what's more troubling: the second twitter account @/ashtonjonesy on twitter/X says that they were 24 years old as of July 2021, while blktransdyke claims that they are 21 as of January 2024. So this can't be the same person using different names and twitter accounts, and yet curiously both are using the exact same story (both claim they are trans, homeless, and disabled & using a wheelchair), and both use the exact same paypals, while are apparently two completely different people. And again, we know that there is a scammer who repeatedly reuses the exact same story details across various accounts

And then, more concerning, that if you search up "blktransdyke" on twitter, while the original posts by the account are gone due to the account being deleted, you get results of various Twitter/X users retweeting the account blktransdyke's post, which was them asking for money. The bottom screenshots are related to the next point: highlighted in yellow you can see someone offering blktransdyke a place to stay, and they live in the same province, and the second screenshot, highlighted in blue you can see that on April 12th 2023, a twitter user accused them of being a scam. We can assume the blktransdyke account wasn't taken down yet that day due to this user encouraging other users to report them.

Recent tumblr creation date:

The oldest and first post made by the blog blktransdyke on tumblr was posted on April 14th, 2023. And as you can see, that was two days after the blktransdyke twitter/X account was accused of scamming. So the blktransdyke twitter account was accused of scamming, then was either deleted or self deactivated, and then the blktransdyke tumblr account showed up immediately after that while using the exact same paypal and story. Which brings us to the other half, which is

Rejecting aid

On this screenshot we can see in a retweet of what the original blktransdyke twitted/X account originally said in the post, and that on August 22nd 2022, they claimed they were still homeless, so apparently they didn't take up the person in Toronto who was literally offering them a place to stay on September 2nd, 2022 (which you can see in the screenshot above, on the second last tweet result to the right).

Claims of Indigeneity & inaccurate terminology:

This one is more minor compared to the other evidence listed here, but in blktransdyke's bio, they claim to be "Inuit" & "Afro-Indigenous": the problem here is that "Inuit" is the plural form, its uncommon that Inuit refer to themselves as this in the singular pronoun because it is grammatically incorrect and an actual Inuk would know that, and instead will use "Inuk" to refer to themselves, but blktransdyke says they are "Inuit". So this terminology is inaccurate coming from a person claiming to be "Indigenous". & just in case they change it, here is a screenshot if their current profile description. Moving on,

Posting the same information as another blog

This is where things get more wild. I have reason to believe that the now deleted blog @/raisedeyebrowemojii ("Jay") is and was a scammer who befriended multiple people to gain trust, and that blktransdyke is the same person as them due to the information that both blogs posted. A couple things to note here is that 1. Raisedeyebrowemojii claimed that they were suffering due to a terminal kidney disease, 2. ALSO stated that she was escaping an abusive situation, was a lesbian, was homeless, and was victimized by a homophobic/transphobic parent, and 3. Had not posted anything since June 2023, before eventually being deactivated. Some of the users "Jay" befriended worried that she may have died due to this apparent kidney disease (which you can find in the tumblr search if you look up that tumblr username). Now, I can't find any paypal that "Jay" posted, but they DID post several other links allegedly that were being used for their donation posts

In this post, graciously saved on webarchive for your viewing pleasure, on May 16th 2023, @/raisedeyebrowemojii claimed that they needed a mattress, and also linked a patreon for allegedly their "best friends'" and "caregiver's" cat, named Trouble 📌. Put a pin in that, we'll come back to it. Below is a screenshot of that post where they linked the patreon. Notice that it's a brown, striped tabby cat. And here is the patreon link (which is still up) that the @/raisedeyebrowemojii blog linked for their "best friend's cat" that was apparently meant to be used to fundraise for their day to day life bills. It doesn't have a lot of patrons or followers. Below is a screenshot of the link I gave for webarchive talking about fundraising for the mattress, and the cat patreon.

Also note, that neither this post by raisedeyebrowemojii nor in the patreon does it link to any other site for content on "Trouble the cat". It vaguely mentions a private Facebook page, but doesn't give any links.

And the blog @/blktransdyke posted this video as well as THIS video, and in both videos, they claim that this brown, striped, tabby cat is their "best friend's cat" 📌. Below are screenshots showing its the same cat, including the same black and yellow blanket.

So both the blogs @/raisedeyebrowemojii AND @/blktransdyke posted a cat that looks very similar: it's brown, a tabby, and striped, and both said that this cat was their "best friend's", and raisedeyebrowemojii said that this cat's name was "Trouble" & referred to them as "Trouble the Cat" in the linked Patreon allegedly belonging to their "best friend". Except here's the bigger problem.

Trouble the Cat is already an existing open, publicly available facebook page with 27K likes and 42K+ followers, and it has its own YouTube page, tiktok account, and Instagram. And if you look at the far top right video on the second screenshot showing the youtube channel, it's the exact same video that appears on the blktransdyke tumblr page. It's the exact same brown, striped tabby cat, in the exact same grooming position, on the same black and yellow blanket, with the same thumbnail, and the exact same caption.

So both Raisedeyebrowemojii AND blktransdyke posted the exact same cat that allegedly belongs to their "best friend", and both of them claim to be homeless, trans, disabled, and being kicked out by a transphobic parent.

& if you go to the links, the official trouble the cat's first instagram post was made on December 23rd 2022, its oldest youtube video was posted on December 23rd 2022, and the facebook says it was made on March 30th, 2021, HOWEVER, the account says they've been active since 2008, but made a post on November 15th, 2023 that said they'd been hacked and made a NEW account, and furthermore, on November 7th 2023, they ALSO made a post saying that multiple other accounts were trying to impersonate them. So, side note, this account could have been hacked by the scammer.

The raisedeyebrowemojii linked that cat patreon on May 17th, 2023, and the oldest video that the blktransdyke posts of that cat is on January 6th, 2024. Both therefore, could have plausibly and likely did, steal these cat videos because all accounts of the troublethecat social media accounts existed BEFORE either raisedeyebrowemoji OR blktransdyke posted them. I find it highly unlikely that both of these blogs had the exact same "best friend".

And if this was true and that this really WAS raisedeyebrowemojii's "best friend" and their cat, then why didn't raisedeyebrowemojii blog link to the other official troublethecat social media accounts, especially since they were so popular, and they claimed they were using this patreon for fundraising for bills? And why didn't the official social media accounts ever say anything about raisedeyebrowemojii's patreon if they were "best friends" trying to fundraise? Surely, an account with 42K followers would have more than a few willing patrons that could have helped their alleged situation.

Therefore, neither raisedeyebrowemojii OR blktransdyke are actually affiliated with this highly popular social media account of "Trouble the Cat" and BOTH of them stole from this account to scam, and both accounts wrre/are run by the same person.

#long post #donation scam #scam #donation scammer #justin's scam list

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lecsainz · 7 months

Note

Hope you're doing amazing! I love your blog so much! I come here almost every other day to day dream about my favourites and read your pieces again and again. Could i request Carlos x reader fic where Carlos comforts the reader after some reporters prod into their private life and the reader feels overwhelmed... Angst to fluff and maybe smut in the end?

SHE’S A BAD BAD GIRL

parings: carlos sainz x famous!reader

authors note: I gotta say, mixing a bit of AU with regular fanfic, can I just say I love doing magazine features?

summary: that one where the media makes up stuff about your relationship with carlos but he ain't gonna let that shake our relationship.

☆. . . masterlist !

Exclusive Source Reveals Startling Insights Into the Relationship of F1's Rising Star and the Elusive Heiress

The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?

By TMZ Magazine - September 2023

In the glitzy world of fame and fortune, where the line between reality and illusion often blurs, power couples are born just as swiftly as they fade away.

None have captured the public's attention quite like that of Formula 1 sensation Carlos Sainz Jr. and the enigmatic heiress Y/N Y/L/N. This power couple's whirlwind romance has been the subject of intense speculation, with many questioning the authenticity of their love. In a TMZ exclusive, we delve into the inner workings of their seemingly sensational union, revealing what lies beneath the surface.

It's no secret that the world of celebrity romance often blurs the lines between genuine affection and calculated publicity. In the case of Carlos Sainz Jr. and Y/N Y/L/N, sources close to the couple suggest that their relationship might be more PR strategy than a heartfelt connection. Our exclusive source, a close friend of the couple, disclosed that the pair has carefully orchestrated their romance to maximize benefits on both ends.

"They both know that being in the spotlight can help boost their respective careers," our source shared. "They decided it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Carlos gets more media coverage, and Y/N can use his popularity to her advantage."

Y/N Y/L/N, the elusive heiress whose life has been shrouded in mystery, has raised eyebrows with her numerous high-profile relationships over the years. It's no secret that she's been romantically linked to at least eight A-list celebrities, including musicians, actors, and even fellow heirs. Despite her apparent aversion to fame and the media circus that surrounds it, Y/N has consistently found herself in the headlines due to her high-profile affairs.

"The irony is that Y/N has always claimed to hate the attention that comes with dating famous people," our source revealed. "Yet, she's continued to choose partners from the same world she professes to despise."

As the couple's relationship has garnered more attention, their PR teams have been working tirelessly to manage the narrative. They've employed tactics such as carefully timed public appearances, social media posts, and interviews to keep the public intrigued and invested in their romance. This calculated approach, however, has led many to question the authenticity of their connection.

"Their teams are skilled at using the media to their advantage," our source admitted. "It's all about perception and maintaining their status as a 'power couple.'"

As the world continues to watch this captivating couple's every move, one question lingers: Is their love story genuine, or is it a calculated maneuver to seize the attention of the masses and advance their respective careers? Are Carlos and Y/N truly in love, or are they orchestrating a well-choreographed PR campaign for mutual benefit?

Stay tuned for more exclusive updates and revelations from TMZ Magazine.

Y/N lay sprawled across the plush sofa in the cozy living room of her shared home with Carlos in Spain. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm rays of light across the room. She'd been catching up on some reading when her phone buzzed incessantly, drawing her attention away from the book.

The headline on her screen was impossible to miss: "The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?" The TMZ article had surfaced online, and her heart sank as she read through the scandalous claims about their relationship. It was a relentless invasion of their privacy, dissecting their love as if it were a staged performance.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by the intrusion into their lives. She knew she had to confront this with Carlos, who had always been her rock in times of turmoil.

Carlos entered the room, sensing the tension in the air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he sat down beside her.

She handed him her phone, unable to speak the words herself. Carlos read through the article, his expression growing darker with every word. He clenched his jaw, his protective instincts kicking in. "This is complete nonsense," he muttered angrily.

Carlos's anger simmered as he continued to read the invasive article. His protective instincts flared, and he couldn't fathom how anyone could twist their love into something so far from the truth.

"They have no idea what they're talking about," Carlos said, his voice low but filled with determination. "This is just trash journalism trying to stir up controversy."

Y/N looked up at Carlos, her eyes filled with gratitude. She'd always admired his strength and resilience. "I know, Carlos, but it still stings. I hate how they're trying to make our love seem fake."

Carlos's expression softened as he turned to her. "Mi sol," he whispered, using the affectionate term he had for her. "Our love is as real as the sun streaming through those windows. Don't ever doubt that."

Y/N managed a faint smile, her heart aching a little less with his reassuring words. "I just wish we could shut them up, Carlos."

A mischievous glint flickered in Carlos's eyes as he looked at her. "Well, maybe we can," he said cryptically.

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, Carlos swept her into his arms and stood up. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" she asked, her laughter mixing with curiosity.

He grinned down at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm taking my sunshine to our room," he said, "away from all this nonsense."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as Carlos carried her bridal style down the hallway to their bedroom. His laughter joined hers, and it echoed through their home, drowning out the noise of the world outside.

In that moment, as Carlos playfully carried her, Y/N realized that their love was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of fame and gossip. It didn't matter what others said or wrote about them. What they had was real, unbreakable, and filled with a kind of love that could weather any storm.

As they reached their bedroom, Carlos gently set Y/N down, and they both burst into laughter. He pulled her into a tender kiss, sealing their promise to protect their love from the prying eyes of the world.

As Carlos set Y/N down in their bedroom, their laughter filled the air like a sweet melody, banishing the remnants of unease brought on by the intrusive article. With a loving smile, Carlos cupped her face in his hands, his gaze locked onto hers.

"You know," he whispered, his voice laced with desire, "there's one thing those journalists will never understand."

Y/N's breath hitched as she met his intense gaze. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a soft murmur.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. "That our love," he murmured, his voice husky, "is the real deal."

Their kisses deepened, their passion igniting like a flame. Carlos's hands slid from her face down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned softly against his lips.

Their love was a fire burning brightly, an unbreakable bond that no amount of gossip or scrutiny could diminish. As their clothes fell to the floor, they reveled in the intimacy that was entirely their own, a celebration of their genuine love.

In the quiet of their bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the world, Carlos and Y/N proved that their love wasn't just a masterpiece of public relations. It was a passionate, fiery, and deeply genuine connection that left no room for doubt.

As their bodies entwined and their moans of pleasure filled the room, they knew that their love was their most cherished secret, a sanctuary where they could be their true selves, far away from the judgmental eyes of the world.

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carlossainz55 just had the best night of my life! thanks, gossipmongers, for the motivation.

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andvys · 9 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part one

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, major angst, heartbreak, allusions to cheating, mean!Steve, King!Steve, there will be a happy ending in the future chapters

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Word count: 3k+

Summary: After breaking your heart, Steve comes over to talk to you, only to break your heart all over again.

Notes: I only do taglists for friends and mutuals! I have a side blog just for Eddie/Steve fics where I reblog new chapters and new fics to, you can follow @andvyswritingss and turn on notifications so you never miss new updates!

series masterlist

read the prologue first!

Soft touches, gentle kisses, sweet whispers, his skin against yours, his lips touch your hot skin as he runs his fingers through your messy hair. The raindrops are hitting the window, the candlelight flickers in the darkened room, the air is cold but his touch is warm as he presses his bare chest against yours. Steve looks down at you, his cheeks are flushed red, his breathing is still a little uneven as he comes down from the high. He smiles, raising his hand towards your face, he brushes your hair out of your face before he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose.

You wish he was always so sweet and gentle with you but you rarely got this.

“You’re so beautiful, princess.”

You smile at him, loving the way he makes your heart flutter. He looks so beautiful, he always does. The soft light in the room makes his skin glow, his eyes twinkle with adoration as he continues to stare at you, a single strand falls in front of his eyes but he doesn’t bother to push it away, he is focused on something else, on you. He traces your skin, your cheeks, your nose, your lips as he leans down to kiss you again and again.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips another beat, happiness runs through you.

“I love you more, Steve Harrington.”

He grins at your words but shakes his head, his eyes flicker down to the necklace around your neck, the one he gave to you.

“That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” You ask. Is it impossible?

He nods, eyes lighting up, “mhmm, I love you so much more.”

“You don’t love me more than I love you,” you argue.

“Yes, I do,” he argues back, moving closer down to you to capture your lips with his as his hands reach for yours so he can intertwine your fingers together, “I will always love you more.”

“Always?” You giggle when he parts from your lips to pepper kisses all over your face, “does that mean you’ll love me forever?”

A smile that is so convincing takes over his features, “yes, I will love you forever.”

“Promise?”

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, pecking your lips gently before he pulls away to look into your eyes with nothing but love, “I promise.”

He promised you a forever, he promised you endless love and you believed him, despite all the warning signs, you believed him, you always did. You believed his I love you’s whenever he kissed you goodbye before he would go see Nancy for their apparent study sessions. You believed him because you wanted it to be true, you wanted him to love you, you wanted him to keep loving you, you wanted him to keep his promise so badly.

But, you held onto a guy and a love that was long gone. He was good to you, he really was but not for long.

Tonight, he broke that promise– no, he broke that promise weeks ago already, when he realized that he no longer loved you but the other girl.

‘I’m not in love with you anymore.’

Another sob leaves your lips as his words repeat themselves over and over in your tired mind, your aching heart is still beating in your chest, you don’t know how or why but it does, it keeps beating even though you wish it didn’t.

You try to muffle the sound of your cries by burying your face in your pillow but your heart starts aching even more when you realize how much it smells like him. Tears stream down your face, you barely see anything at this point, your eyes are so puffy from all the crying, you hate it.

“I’m so sorry,” Heather whispers as she holds you, running her fingers through your hair, she does her best to comfort you.

Chrissy holds your hand tightly as she lies on the other side of you, facing you, she frowns at the sound of your cries. Heather glances at her with a sad look in her eyes, neither of them can do much right now, there is nothing that will help you feel better in the slightest, the only thing they can do is be there for you.

“We’ll take care of you, okay?” Chrissy says as she cups your cheeks, wiping your tears with her thumbs.

“You don’t have to–”

Heather grabs your shoulder, shaking her head at you, “that’s what we do, we take care of each other,” she says, looking at her other best friend, “right?”

Chrissy nods, smiling sadly, “right.”

They can wipe your tears and they can hold you, they can take care of you but they can’t fix your heart, they can’t get rid of the scent lingering in your room, of all the memories that you have made with him in here, of the pain that he had caused, of the love that you will always hold for him.

Why?

Why did he fall out of love with you?

Why did he have to break his promise?

Why, why, why..

So many questions run through your mind as you cry your eyes out but not a single answer can be found in the midst of your chaotic thoughts.

Your best friends touches do little to comfort you but you are grateful for them. Chrissy throws the pillow that smells like him on the ground and pulls you into her chest instead, you embrace the smell of her sweet perfume– though the smell of smoke and his cologne will always linger, even when it’ll eventually fade away, it will always linger. You cry yourself to sleep that night and when the morning rolls around and you wake to the sound of your friends voices downstairs, you quickly realize that something’s wrong. They are not talking, they are arguing with someone.

You furrow your brows and rub your tired eyes, looking down at yourself, you are still wearing the clothes from the night before. It only takes you a few seconds to remember what happened the night before. Tears spring to your eyes the moment you remember his words.

“Get out or I swear to god, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!”

You blink the tears away and jump up from your bed, making your way out of the room, you don’t bother to look into the mirror before you rush out into the hallway.

“I just wanna talk to her, Heather.”

Steve.

A part of you wants to run back and hide and the other part wants to run back to him, hoping to hear an apology, hoping to hear that it was nothing but a stupid prank that he was dared to do by his friends. Deep down you know that that’s not it, still you keep the hope up as you walk down the stairs to see him.

Chrissy is standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, looking him up and down with a look of disgust on her face.

Heather’s jaw is clenched and she looks like she’s ready to throw a punch at your boyfriend– ex boyfriend. She never liked him, he left you with an aching heart too many times already. Every time you two end up fighting, he comes crawling back to you a few hours later, usually Heather is already there, drying your tears and comforting you and ready to kick his ass when he shows up.

“Get out, Harrington,” she says angrily, pointing to the open door. She has been waiting for the day to actually kick his ass to the curb. He never deserved a chance with you in the first place, you were always too good for him.

He sighs, shaking his head, “I want to talk to my– y/n, I want to talk to y/n.”

You blink your tears away, ignoring the ache in your chest as you lay your eyes on him. His hair is messier than it was the night before, his eyes are red, you can see it even from a distance. He hasn’t changed out of his clothes from the night before yet.

“No–”

“Heather, it’s okay.”

All three heads snap towards you, while your friends eyes are filled with concern, Steve’s eyes are filled with panic. He eyes you up and down, blinking, he steps forward, unable to meet your eyes.

“C-Can we talk?”

You can hear the shakiness in his voice, the fear and it only fuels your hope. Does he regret it? Does he regret even uttering those words?

You cross your arms over your chest, looking over at Chrissy first, her gaze softens when your eyes meet hers, she knows you need it, that no matter what will happen after this conversation, you need it, the closure, the answers that you cannot give yourself. Despite her dislike for him, she nods at you unlike Heather, who shakes her head at you, she doesn’t want you to hurt more than you already did.

You feel his eyes on you, it makes your skin crawl, it makes your heart hurt. Don’t go with him, just don’t. Both your heart and Heather’s eyes say to you but you ignore them, instead you turn towards him and nod, whispering a small yes.

You are the first to move, walking past him and out into the cold. It’s a chilly autumn morning, the wind touches your bare arms, making you shiver a little, making you regret not grabbing a sweater before coming out here. You look down as you wait for him to join you outside.

A car drives by, the wind howls through the trees, Heather mumbles something under her breath, a dog barks in the distance– you try to focus on anything but the fear that runs through you. The door shuts and it startles you a little, still you don’t look up, you bounce your foot up and down and try to steady your breathing, only when you feel the warmth of his jacket around your shoulders do you glance up at him. Though the gesture wasn’t a sweet one, he didn’t lay the jacket around you softly, he only threw it around your shoulders.

Usually that would earn him a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek but now all he gets is a confused look, tear filled eyes and step back from you.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“About what?” You ask, knowing that the feeling of hope is a foolish emotion.

“About last night, I-I just want to explain–”

There is the smallest flicker of remorse in his eyes, regret and shame but he masks it with coldness.

“There is nothing to explain, Steve. I think you made things very clear,” you mumble, unable to look away from his eyes.

He blinks, he licks his lips and clenches his jaw as he nods, looking down for a moment before he looks back into your eyes. He can’t explain the feeling in his chest, the tight pull or the heavy squeeze in his heart. He doesn’t understand why this feels so wrong when it’s what he wanted. He wants to be with her. With the girl that everything feels so simple with. With Nancy he doesn’t feel all these heavy emotions, all this overwhelmingness, he doesn’t feel scared– with her he feels just free and excited, the thrill of the chase blinds him fully.

He looks down at you, at the girl that he first loved, the girl he promised a future to, the girl who’s heart he broke as though it was nothing. You look so small, the way you are standing there clutching his jacket as though it will bring him back to you.

“I just, I thought that you deserve a better explanation.”

You scoff at his words, staring at him in disbelief, “a better explanation?” You ask, “you told me that you are not in love with me anymore, I don’t think I need an explanation, Steve.”

“Shit,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I-I’m sorry, y/n.” He can’t even look at you, right now. Too much guilt lies on his shoulders, looking at you hurts his heart and he doesn’t even realize it.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” You ask, “f-for breaking my heart or for something else?”

You are not sure if you can handle more pain, more heartbreak or betrayal.

He shakes his head slowly, “I’m sorry for breaking your heart,” he admits, shamefully. He is not good at this, at confrontations, at breakups. Despite knowing that this is all his fault, he feels the urge to defend himself.

“It’s over, right?” You mumble, knowing the answer to it already but wanting to hear it from him.

He shifts uncomfortably, his brows furrow, eyes flashing with uncertainty as he feels tears welling up in his own eyes. Why does it feel so wrong to leave you? He wonders.

He could still change his mind, he could still have you, he could still stay with you but he decides against it. He nods at your words, wanting to get this over with quickly.

“Yeah,” he whispers as his shoulders slump as though this makes him sad, “it’s over.”

He broke your heart already, yet it feels like he did it all over again. You never thought that you would hear these words from him, you never thought that he would break your heart, you never thought that he would leave you. Your relationship with him was no fairytale, he wasn’t some perfect knight in shining armor. He could be mean at times, but he loved you and you loved him and despite all his wrongs, he still showed you how much you meant to him. He still promised you a love that would last forever.

Anger rushes through you, it crosses your features, your breathing becomes heavy as you look up at him with rage in your glassy eyes. “Why?” You ask, uncrossing your arms, you drop them to your sides, “why is it over?”

You know why but you want to hear him say it.

His face grows pale, he looks away from you, he is too much of a coward to say it.

“Why is it over, Steve?” You ask, “you wanted to explain, so explain! Why is it over?”

“You know why,” he mumbles.

All the times, he told you that you were overthinking things, that you were acting crazy when you confronted him about all the times he spent with her, when he told you not to worry because ‘there’s nothing to worry about, babe.’ All the times, he lied to you and made you look like a fool, only to stand in front of you and admit to it all.

“Say it,” you spit. Your voice is hoarse from all the crying, your vision is blurry from all the tears, “or are you too much of a coward?”

He tenses up at your words, his cheeks grow red from anger, he looks back to you.

“I’m not a coward.”

“Yes you are! You are a coward! You can’t even say it,” you say as you place your hands on his chest, pushing him back, “y-you told me that I was crazy when I asked you if you had feelings for her a-and now you are leaving me for her!”

He doesn’t fight your touch, he accepts it, the way you are pushing him back, the way you are hitting his chest. He closes his eyes, he feels guilty and regretful but he can’t show it.

“You promised me,” you whisper brokenly, “y-you told me that you would love me forever.”

You taste the saltiness of your tears on your quivering lips, you smell the smoke on his jacket, the wine that stained his shirt. You feel the coldness that he is giving you and it tears you apart. You feel the coldness that he is giving you– there is no love for you anymore, not from him.

“Did you really think that I meant that?” He asks, avoiding your eyes.

Your breath hitches in your throat, creating a lump that is making it harder to breathe. A new wave of tears settle in your eyes, your heart shatters for the third time. You push yourself away from him and take a step back.

“I didn’t, I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?”

His words feel like a punch to your gut. He didn’t just break your heart, he ripped it out and stomped all over it.

He only looks at your face when you look down.

You are falling apart right in front of him, he can see that it takes everything in you not to drop to your knees and cry harder than you have before. His hands itch and his heart is racing in his chest.

You can’t even look at him anymore, it’s too painful. You don’t want to hear more of his hurtful words, knowing that you will love him no matter what.

“Then why did you say you did?” You ask shakily, “why did you ever say that you love me? Was it a lie? Was everything a lie?”

He clenches his jaw again, shrugging, “I can’t remember what wasn’t.” A part of him hopes that this will make it easier for you, easier to let him go but if anything, it breaks you more.

The sob that leaves your lips makes him regret it all in an instant but instead of taking it back and apologizing, instead of grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into his chest to try and make it better, he steps back. He watches the way your eyes flash with nothing but pain and confusion, he watches the way you cower back and try to wipe those tears that won’t stop falling, he watches the way you break because of him, the way this suffering will never end because you love him, you truly love him, unconditionally.

He can’t stand this any longer, he turns around and drags himself away from you. Deep down he knows that this moment will haunt him for the rest of his life. Your cries, the heartbroken and betrayed look on your face, you. You will haunt him forever.

He doesn’t know why he came here, it was over already, there was no reason for him to come here, yet something pushed him to come see you but not for these reasons, not to make any more mistakes, not to break your heart more than he already did but it seems as though all he can do are mistakes that he cannot take back.

He doesn’t understand why this feels like an awful dream, like a nightmare that he hates, deep down. But he keeps walking away from you, there is no other ending for the two of you, only the one where he leaves you.

next part

tagging mutuals & friends 🖤 @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @screammunson

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things angst

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