#I think I usually think of these as I go along
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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ─ PB⁵
౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "SAW UR POST AND HEAR U WANTED REQUESTS!!! paige x gf!reader where reader is uconns wbb media girl and it is SMUTT, paige like reading reader ab like “did u enjoy taking pics of me out there” BUT SMUT WHERE READER ALSO GIVES BACK TO PAIGE BC WHY R ALL THE FICS ENDING AFTER READER COMES? WHERES PAIGE??? (i’m going insane)"
─ word count | 2k
─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! praise (lots of it), so much sweet tension, fingering, face-sitting (hooray!), paige being a cocky ass, teasing, just MENTION of a strap
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | this is my first time writing wlw smut so if yall have any feedback, it'd be greatly appreciated!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope yall enjoy mwah
"WE'D LOVE TO STAY BUT..." Paige shrugged, a cocky smile playing on her lips as her hand found the small of your back, beginning to lead you to the door.
As Paige's hand settled on the small of your back, her touch sent a shiver down your spine, her cocky smile igniting a fire within you.
KK and Ice exchanged looks, smirks playing on their lips. The game had went very well, winning 72-64. You'd gotten some pretty good pictures of the team as you usually do, but your focus was merely just on your girlfriend this time. You couldn't help but feel proud, especially with the shots you managed to capture of the team in action.
But right now, your attention was solely on Paige, her presence captivating you more than anything else. The thrill of victory mingled with the excitement of being with her, making the moment feel all the more exhilarating.
"Make sure to use protection!" You heard KK shout as you closed the door behind you, hearing the now muffled laughter of Paige's teammates' laughter.
You rolled your eyes playfully at KK's innuendo but she wasn't very far off. You didn't miss the way Paige wet his lips as she pulled you closer into her chest as you both began to walk to her car, leaving the restaurant the team decided to celebrate in.
Paige's fingers interlaced with yours, her touch sending shivers down your spine as you savored the closeness between you. As you reached her car, Paige turned to face you, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in close and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.
You couldn't help but lean closer, letting her take complete control over the kiss. But before it could lean to anything, Paige leaned away as your lips formed a pout.
Paige laughed at your neediness as she gripped your hand. She leaned in once more, her lips brushing against yours in a teasing caress.
But before the kiss could deepen, she pulled back, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're too cute when you pout," she teased, her voice laced with affection as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the cool night air.
"You looked good tonight," you spoke softly as you looked up at your girlfriend. "Like, really good."
Paige's smirk softened into a warm smile at your compliment, her eyes sparkling with appreciation as she gazed into yours.
"Thank you, baby," she replied, her voice soft as she brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. "You looked sexy, with your little camera."
You rolled your eyes playfully averted your gaze as she laughed, before she gripped your face to get you to look at her. "That's the only word I could think of, sorry."
"Really? Not beautiful, pretty, gorgeous?" You teased as she let go of your face with a huff.
"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," she teased, her fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline.
But before you could respond, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours in a needy kiss. "You're all of those things and more," she whispered against your lips.
A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you returned her kiss, reveling in the warmth of her touch. "Can we go home, please?"
"Of course, baby," she whispered, your voice barely above a breath as she reluctantly pulled away, the need to be close to you urging you forward.
With a shared smile, you both settled into the car, the engine humming to life beneath you as Paige drove off into the night. As you headed home together, hands intertwined, you felt your heart begin to race.
The drive felt longer than it should have, every squeeze of your hand making you feel more desperate. And Paige could tell but she didn't give you anything except the occasional rub of the hand, which made you go insane.
With one hand on the wheel and the other clasped firmly in yours, Paige drove with practiced ease, her confidence making you feel something only she could ever manage to do.
With a knowing glance, Paige turned onto your street and parked as quickly as she could. As Paige cut the engine, the silence that followed seemed to stretch on indefinitely, each breath heavy with anticipation.
Neither of you wasted any time as she guided you up the stairs of your apartment, giving your hip the occasional squeeze. The walk up the stairs felt like a blur, her touch sent sparks flying through your body. With each squeeze of your hip, Paige wordlessly conveyed her desire, her eagerness matching your own as you walked to your apartment door.
As you reached your apartment door, Paige wasted no time in unlocking it, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness of the hallway. With a shared glance, you both stepped inside, the warmth of the familiar space enveloping you like a comforting embrace.
The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted, charged with a sense of desire. Without a word, Paige closed the distance between you, her hands finding their way to your hips as she pulled you close.
The heat of her body against yours was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. With a hunger that couldn't be denied, she responded in kind as your lips crashing together in a fervent kiss that left you breathless.
"I know I already said it, but you looked so good." Your hands found her hair as she planted messy kisses all over your neck and jaw, her grip tight on your hip.
The sensation sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing moment. With a soft chuckle, Paige finally pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a glint of desire.
"I'm glad you think so," she murmured, her voice husky with desire as she pulled back slightly to meet your gaze. "But you, baby, you're on whole different playing field."
She gave your lips one more kiss before she guided you to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Paige sat on the bed as she pulled you into her lap, as your lips crashed into hers. You couldn't help but grind yourself against her lap, soft whimpers leaving your lips.
But Paige didn't give in, she just smirked against your lips as she held your hips. "Relax, baby."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Shut up,"
Paige's eyes widen, a smirk on her lips as she gave your hip a harsh squeeze. "You really wanna talk to me like that?"
"Maybe I do," you retorted, your voice laced with playful defiance as you leaned in closer to her.
She then pushed you off of her as you scoffed, disbelief in your expression. You almost began to complain before she gripped your arms and pushed you on the bed, a soft moan leaving your mouth at the roughness.
She practically ripped your shorts off as she got on top of you, the cocky expression still evident on her face. Paige's lips found your neck as she began to give you wet kisses all over. Your eyes shut at the sensation, another quiet moan leaving your lips.
Her hands then moved the bottom of your shirt, taking it off as she began rubbing your hips. She sat up to take in your body, a prideful smirk on her mouth she squeezed your hips tighter. You felt yourself get red at her gaze, especially since you were half-naked and she was fully clothed.
"Poor baby," she whispered as she leaned and gave you kisses at the crook of your neck, your eyes shutting in pleasure as you became grinding against her hips.
Paige gripped your thighs and pried them open as she began rubbing your cunt through your underwear. "So fucking wet and I barely touched you. Do I make you that needy, huh, pretty girl?"
Her filthy words sounded like music to your ears as you moaned in affirmation, not trusting your voice to speak up. She then moved your underwear to the side, her middle finger finding your clit as she began rubbing it harshly.
The new sensation made your back arch into her hands, your eyebrows furrowing in pleasure. "Oh, fuck,"
"Yeah, pretty girl? I make you feel so good, don't I, baby?" Her words came out soft like honey as she applied more pressure to your clit, more needy moans coming out of your mouth.
It was embarrassing how quickly that knot in your stomach began tighten, how it'd only been a minute since she'd started and you already felt yourself come close to the edge.
And of course, Paige could tell. Her movements didn't falter as you came undone, the knot in your stomach snapping as you let out a cry of pleasure that echoed in between the walls of your bedroom.
You were breathless as Paige shoved her fingers into your mouth, and you sucked them clean. She smiled as she pried her hands away, replacing them with her lips.
Paige could taste you on your tongue, making her moan. She pulled away and began to move off of you before you gripped her hand, neediness evident in your tone. "I need you, please. Let me make you feel good."
Paige's smirk widen at your request, climbing back on top of you. "Mm, you sure?"
"Yes, baby. Please." You whined as Paige looked down at you, uncertainty in her gaze before she saw the desperation on your face. She smiled softly at you before she took off her shorts and underwear, throwing them off to the ground.
You were practically drooling at the sight of her, all of her. Your hands found her thighs as you pulled her on top of of your face and before she could even process it, your lips were in her cunt.
"Oh, fuck." Was all she could get out as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. God, your mouth felt so good she couldn't help but behind to grind against your mouth.
She moved her gaze to look at you, her hands finding your hair as she began to run her fingers through your hair. She felt her breath hitch as you began focusing on her clit, her head falling back in pleasure.
"Good girl, fuck." She groaned out as your hands moved moved to rub her hips. Her other hand met yours, holding it as she began grinding faster against you. "Yes, baby. Keep going, oh yeah."
Your tongue moved faster against her and she felt herself coming closer and closer to the edge. "Just like that, just like that. Fuck."
Her grip tightened on your hair as she came, her moan filling your ears. She was breathless, trying to catch her breath as she finally opened her eyes to meet your cocky smirk.
She let out a breathless chuckle as she rolled her eyes, getting off your face. "You should do that more often."
"You should let me do that more often," you countered as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
Paige laid down on the bed, her chest still heaving as she kept her gaze solely on you. "I just don't wanna like, suffocate you."
"That would be a good way to go, though. And I know you like it," you smiled as she pat the spot next to her. You shuffled next to her, moving your head to lay on her chest.
"You're right, I like having that much control over you." She joked as she pulled you closer. "It's hot."
"You're hot," you replied with a playful grin, your voice laced with admiration as you leaned in to steal another kiss from Paige's lips.
"You're hotter," Paige countered as she pulled away from the kiss for a moment.
"You're the hottest,"
Paige scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "We really gonna play this game right now, baby?"
"Yep, whoever wins gets to the wear the strap."
Paige's expression shifted as she glared down at you. "You mean my dick? Yeah, um no."
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#wcbb x reader#wcbb#paige buckets#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige bueckers smut#paige x reader#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers headcannons#paige bueckers fic#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#ncaaw#ncaa women’s basketball#ncaa wbb
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Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)
You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.
“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.
“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.
“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.
The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”
“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
“Maybe,” you allow.
“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.
“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.
“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”
Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.
He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.
You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”
He groans. “Five. Minutes.”
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.
“This is fine,” he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.
Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”
You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”
“I set an alarm?”
You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.
“Yeah, next time.”
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
“Where was this?”
You frown. “At the grocery store…?”
“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”
You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.
The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.
As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
“Careful,” you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”
“I know, but I like this shirt.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”
You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”
“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”
Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”
He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”
“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.
“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”
You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.
“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”
“You two,” you sigh happily.
He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#misters steal your girl#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#Brandon the crash dummy
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God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller
Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader
18+ only!!!
Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.
CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.
AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo
Graphics by @saradika-graphics
God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.
And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.
Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.
You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”
You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.
You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.
Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.
You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.
Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.
He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.
She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.
His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.
She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.
He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.
She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.
And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.
He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.
He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.
His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.
Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.
Yep, I’m going for it.
You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.
The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.
“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”
“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.
Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.
You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.
“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.
You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.
“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no
And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear
King Jeremy the wicked
Oh, ruled his world”
Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.
“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.
You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.
You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.
“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”
Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.
“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.
He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”
You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.
“Joel -” you start.
“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.
“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.
“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.
“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.
You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.
“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”
Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.
“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”
“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.
He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”
“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.
“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.
“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.
“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.
“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.
“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”
“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”
Taglist
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44
@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot
@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey
@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog
@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya
@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81
#joel miller#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#pedrohub#joel miller fanfiction#joel x oc#daddy joel#brat tamer or soft dom#dom!joel miller#joel x female reader#joel x f!reader#joel x y/n#joel x you#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller x oc#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller the last of us#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x female oc#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you
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COULD YOU MAKE IT ANY MORE OBVIOUS?
✸ pairing: rockstar!percy jackson x ballerina! reader
✸ synopsis: you and percy jackson are absolutely, totally, by no means dating … as far as the public knows
✸ warnings: none!
✸ notes: THIS WAS THE CUTEST IDEA EVER, I LOVE IT SM!!! i’m down to do more parts if anyone wants… 👀 requested! also, pls understand the reference in the title 🙏
exhausting was the only word for it, your life. and as of lately, there was so much going on that you could barely see straight.
your ballet company had always had long hours, but now that the performance that you were not only in, but the star of, was quickly approaching, it was chaos in sparkles and pointe shoes.
wake up, rehearse, workout, rehearse, meetings, rehearse, costume fittings, rehearse, sleep, repeat.
you had just finished up with your final rehearsal for the night when your manager called you into an impromptu meeting and shoved a screen in your face.
eyes blurry from lack of sleep, it had taken a moment for you to see the image clearly, but when you did, your heart dropped all the way down to your sore feet.
a screenshot from a news article in some random pop culture tabloid with your name plastered across the caption along with another you knew: percy jackson.
international rockstar and lead singer of the sensational boy band, greek symphony, percy jackson was all the talk in gossip magazines and blogs, a modern-day heartthrobs for girls to go crazy over.
he was a troublemaker at best, holding the worst record yet best reputation among his band mates. he was dangerous, mischievous, and so undeniably hot. and therefore, so totally off limits.
in the world of shoebiz, the two of you fell on opposite sides of the spectrum. you were a peaceful black swan, whereas he was the thunderous wave that disturbed your peaceful gliding across the water’s surface, sending your world into a frenzy by a mere touch.
but as off limits and unlikely of an idea as he was, he also happened to be confined to the same home city as you in new york. could they really blame you if you said things just … happened?
“what is this?” you asked, looking dead at a photo that you knew was definitely you.
apparently, you and your clandestine lover hadn’t been as careful as you usually were and a photo had been captured by a rouge paparazzi.
luckily, it was dark and showed none of your face and about half of his side profile, and therefore, easy to play off as a mistake.
“according to the article, it’s you scurrying about with the rockstar percy jackson,” your manager told you, a sour look on her face.
“percy jackson? are you kidding me?” you gasped, lips twisted in a disgusted frown. “i’ve never even met that guy, much less been scurrying around the city with him!”
two lies in one sentence, you were on a roll.
“well, according to just about every celebrity news outlet right now, you’re his latest victim,” said the head of your pr team, piper. “and this picture is their proof.”
“that’s not me!” you argued. it was you.
you could pinpoint exactly when and where that photo was taken, actually. it had been last week, when you and percy had to sneak out the back of his apartment to avoid his bandmate, leo valdez, seeing you all piled up in percy’s arms while watching pride and prejudice.
apparently, paparazzis liked lurking around the backend of apartment complexes.
“yn.” said piper, giving you a pointed look. “are you sure?”
“i think i know what i look like, pipes,” you scoffed. “he may be running around with some girl, but it’s not me. please, make sure everybody knows that.”
at your words, your team got started on damage control, while you snatched up your things and headed home to your apartment, right where the very boy you’d just convinced everyone that you had never met was waiting for you.
you dropped your dance bag to the floor the second the door to your home closed, exhaling a deep breath as the anxieties and physical abuse of the day hit you all at once.
as you leaned against the closed door and blew a tuft of hair from your eyes, the familiar face of your boyfriend rounded the corner.
“there she is!” he grinned, wielding a spatula as he threw his arms out dramatically. “dinner’s almost ready. how’s my favorite girl?”
“exhausted,” you sighed with a smile. “sorry for being so late, something came up.”
“ah, don’t worry about it,” he told you. “i put the spare key back, by the way.”
you already knew that, of course. he put it back where it belonged every time he used it, but never failed to let you know.
six months you’d been doing this— sneaking around behind the backs of your friends and the media, falling further in love with someone you weren’t even supposed to be acquainted with inside the private four walls of each of your apartments and secret meeting spots.
you followed him into your little quaint kitchen, where he went to flipping a final pancake on the stovetop.
“looks good, honey,” you smiled tiredly. “but—“
“oh no, no buts,” he whined.
“but,” you insisted. “we have an issue. someone snagged a picture of us last week and today it was published. my team’s already working on getting it down, but it’s done some damage.”
you pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the article as he turned the heat off on the stove. he took a moment to squint and it and evaluate before saying,
“okay, that’s not as bad as i expected. jase called about an hour ago and told me all about it, but he said he denied that it was me to mr. d.”
thank the heavens above for jason grace (the bassist in percy’s band and member who had a better head on his shoulders than the other three of them combined).
“i dunno perce, it’s a pretty good shot of you,” you told him.
“i think all shots of me are pretty good ones, if i do say so myself.” he smirked, closing the already small gap between the two of you as he leaned a hand against the counter on either side of you, trapping you in.
“i bet you do, rockstar,” you replied, looking up at him through tired lids and half-smudged mascara. “I remember it being a pretty good view, personally. except for leo screaming his head off inside.”
percy chuckled, his breath fanning across your cheek. “the price we pay for privacy.”
“apparently not private enough,” you sighed, the headline of the article seared into your mind. gosh, you could already see yourself getting dragged on twitter. “oh, what’re we gonna do if people do find us out?”
percy could see the creases between your brows and the doubt swimming through your irises, a light, almost unnoticeable path of lilac underneath your eyes. you were worried and tired, and he couldn’t be having any of that.
“i don’t think it’d be so bad,” he shrugged, his hands closing in to rest on your hips. “i mean, i know both our bosses would be out for blood, but it’d be worth it for people to know i have you.”
“you want people to know you have me?” you asked, a small, trace of a smile creeping up on the corners of your lips.
“do i want people to know i have a beautiful, smart, sweetheart ballerina for a girlfriend? hell yeah, i do.” he answered. “eventually, y’know.”
your smile appeared now, reaching up to your eyes and hiding away the tiredness in them. percy loved that smile.
“how soon do you think eventually is?” you asked, draping your arms over his shoulders as his face leaned closer to yours.
“as soon as you want it to be, pretty girl,” he answered. he then leaned all the way in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that melted away all the tension in your muscles as he pulled you in close.
when he leaned away, you chased his lips and landed another peck to the corner of his mouth and then another to his nose, just for good measure.
“now,” he smiled. “let’s forget about the stupid public for a little while and eat, yeah?”
#୨୧ love letters#୨୧ sealed with a kiss!#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x you#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson x fem!reader#pjo x you#pjo x reader#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo fandom
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oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts
okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3
also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.
if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3
You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face.
Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too!
You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.
But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words).
So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.
ba ba baba ba
With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin.
"'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs.
"Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.
A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house.
"Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.
A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.
So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you.
"Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.
Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.
Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!
Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.
You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.
"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.
"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.
You blink again.
Huh
"You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation.
"Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes.
Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully.
You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.
So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend?
Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.
Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?"
You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff.
....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.
#simon riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#141 x reader#sammys soft times#simon ghost riley x reader#ghoap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader x john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#soap x ghost x reader#ghost x reader x soap#johnny mactavish x reader
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Replaced part two
Omg I’m so upset- it won’t let me tag like anyone with dashes in their name at allll soooo if you commented on that post I am so so so sorry I couldn’t tag you guys
Type: one shot turned more
Part: 2/2
Part 1 here
Masterlist here
Pairing: Azriel x reader/ mystery character x reader
Seriously guys thank you so much- I’m so glad that the first part had so much love and I hope this one is just as good.
“So, what did you need my love?” I lean down to kiss my fiancés temple. He’s stressed, I can tell. His fingers tap away in rhythm with his foot. “Baby- what’s going on? Why are you so stressed?” My hands run down the length of his arms in a soothing motion. “How can I help you?”
The new high lord of autumn’s head meets my shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. His head raises till his lips meet mine in a soft kiss. “Baby I need you to sit down.” His smile disappears as soon as it came and I frown, moving to the seat on the other side of his desk. I raise my brows expectantly as his hands move to reach mine. “Love- we have a high lords meeting in two weeks time. They have requested it be held here in order to see how I’m handling the court now.”
“Ok? And?”
“Darling I want to introduce you as the new high lady of Autumn. I want you come along.” He sighs, “it means you will have to see all of them again.”
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I breath for a moment, thinking about it, it’s been nearly five years since I left, the last time I saw any of them was the battle with Hybern, and even then Eris kept me mostly away from them so that I wasn’t distracted. “I’ll go.”
“Are you sure darling?”
“Very. I want them to see me as the high lady of autumn. Not the girl that left all that time ago.”
He smirks his signature smirk, pride filling his eyes. “Very well. Shall we begin planning?”
———
Everyone has finally arrived- or what is usually everyone, confusion sets in as Eris seems to sit in waiting, an empty chair beside him at the head of the table. “Are we waiting for someone Eris?”
“Yes actually. Shell be here any moment, she likes making an entrance.” Something bothers Azriel with the way the high lord smirks. He didn’t know who was going to walk through that door but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
The door swings open, a woman stepping through, decked in a gorgeous burnt orange dress, green and gold accents around her body, a golden crown, one looking like leaves woven together rests on her head. As her eyes catch Eris’ she smiles. “Sorry I’m late. Hope you haven’t started without me.” She surveys the room before stepping towards the empty seat. Eris stands, going to pull it out with one hand and take hers on his other. The pause for a moment, facing the table together.
“Everyone. I’d like you to meet my fiance and the high lady of the Autumn court. Some of you may already know her.”
As the female turns to kiss Eris, it clicks for Azriel. “Yn.” He can’t help but gasps and that is when it finally hits the inner circle of the night court.
“Hello guys. Long time no see.”
Cassian speaks this time, his brows furrowed and mouth agape, “you- your with him? Your the high the high lady?”
“Yes, in fact our wedding is next month. I am terribly excited. Especially after being named the high lady of Autumn.” She and Eris sit finally, hands staying tied together
An agony Azriel has never felt tears through him as he stares at his mate. She looks back to him as he gasps, clenching his chest wildly.
“Azriel. I’d like to get through my first meeting as high lady. So if you could stop…flailing. That would be preferred.” Yn clears her throat before turning to the others at the table. “I’ve seen some things. I see Koshei. I thought we took care of our issues with him, however I-“
The meeting continues, the night court still trying to process the news. After the meeting is finished, the high lords are given a walk through of the new Autumn court. “Yn. Yn can we speak please.” It was towards the end of the tour, courts had been led to where they’d be staying, only the inner circle trailed behind, minus Morrigan and Cassian who had been dropped off to their respective rooms.
I choose to ignore the shadowsinger, instead stopping at the next door and turn back to Rhysand and Feyre, “You two will be staying here. This castle works much like the house of wind. It will cater to you, we do tend keep things much warmer here for obvious reasons so if you are uncomfortable with the temperature just say the word and it will be brought down by the house.”
“Goodnight Yn.” I nod before turning back to lead the final male to where he’d be staying, Eris never leaving my side. We barely make it three steps down the hall before I feel Rhsyand pry at my mental walls.
‘What do you want Rhysand.’
‘You should talk to him Yn. He’s been devastated since you left and see you with Eris killed him I-‘
I shut it down. I don’t want to hear some sob story from my mate who didn’t even want me till I was gone. “You will be staying here Azriel. What I said to Rhysand and Feyre goes the same for you.”
Me and Eris turn to leave before I’m grabbed by the arm. “Wait. Yn can we please just talk.”
Eris growls. “Get your filthy hands off my fucking finance.”
The shadowsinger seems to get just as upset, opening his mouth to speak before I rip my arm from his grasp and turn, a glare resting on my features.
“Don’t you fucking dare! You have no right- no fucking right to get angry at my fiancée! Do you understand, you didn’t want me and I don’t fucking want you so go wallow in your self pity but stay the hell away from me!” Eris rubs soothing circles on my arm, a glare that could kill sent towards the shadowsinger as he grabs me, winnowing us to our room.
—————
Sooo I hope this lives up to your guys’ expectations!
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel#elain archeron#elain x reader#feyre archeron#feyre x reader#nesta archeron#nesta x reader#cassian x reader#cassian#rhysand x reader#rhysand#eris vanserra#eris x reader#replaced#angst#no happy ending
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].
SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader.
GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo.
WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information.
WORD COUNT. 6.3k.
NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?
IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.
The summary. Right. Yes.
“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”
You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.
“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”
You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.
“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”
And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.
“She’s zoned out.”
The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.
How the fuck do they know your name?
“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”
Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.
“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.
You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.
“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”
But still—
“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”
Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.
How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!
“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.
“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.
You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”
Now, hold the fucking phone.
“Is everything alright?”
You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”
“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”
Your face scrunches up.
“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”
Just what did you get yourself into?
“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.
There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats.
He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.
“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”
“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”
“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”
Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.
“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”
He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.
“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”
But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
What.
What the fuck?
“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.”
“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”
You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss.
Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”
With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.
“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of.
Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?”
Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.
“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”
Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”
Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.
“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”
Taehyun has to give you his water again.
“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”
“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”
“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”
“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”
“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”
Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.
“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.
Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”
You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.
“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”
Number. Hold on a fucking second.
“The comments are going crazy.”
You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.
“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”
You quickly get up from your seat.
“Yo, where are you going this time?”
“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out.
“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”
Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.
Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.
“Who’s this?”
“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”
Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.
*
It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting.
The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack.
“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”
When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream).
“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.
“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?”
“You can stay inside, it’s alright.”
He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”
You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.
The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you.
They stand up. They call out your name in unison.
Holy shit.
And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.
Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation.
“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”
Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.
“Please enjoy.”
With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.
God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all.
To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?
“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”
Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.
“But why are these two crashing our date?”
And that’s when things also start to get messy.
“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”
Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”
You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.
“You’re holding her hand too!”
“Why can’t I?!”
“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”
Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.
“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”
Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”
They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.
“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”
It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.
“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”
They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.
“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”
The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.
And your face starts burning.
“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”
Maybe you asked the wrong question.
Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.
It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”
Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”
Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut. “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame.
What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!
“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”
“Great!”
Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in.
“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”
There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.
“Hey.”
Your hands are clamped together.
“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”
Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.
“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”
Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.
But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”
The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.
“And you?”
“I’ve lo—”
“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”
You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”
“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”
“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”
Now, what the fuck?
Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”
There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”
Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.
“What about you?”
Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.
“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”
And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”
They all look offended.
“No!”
Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.
They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.
The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old.
You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.
“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”
You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”
There’s a tense pause in the air.
“What do you mean…?”
You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you.
“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”
It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”
Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”
Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
You could hear your heart in your eardrums.
It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”
Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.
“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”
Oh.
Oh, god.
Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.
It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.
“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.
“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”
The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.
“You— you mean it?”
To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.
You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.
“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”
You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.
“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”
There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.
“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”
STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE.
© hannie-dul-set, 2024.
#tomorrow x together x reader#txt x reader#choi yeonjun x reader#choi soobin x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together scenarios#txt x you#tomorror x together x you#soobin x reader#yeonjun x reader#beomgyu x reader#txt fanfic#choi soobin x you#choi beomgyu x you#choi yeonjun x you
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..Is Mine..
warning: smut (+18) ...umm can we talk about the gif above...whew chile...anywaysss the people have voted and ya'll wanted this! It's a part 2 to Jealous, just a different pov : ). Enjoy!
So...
Tell me that, that pussy is mine...
Yeah...
Tell me, tell me baby
It's all mine
Yeah...
"Will you stop walking away from me and let me talk to you!" The door slammed shut behind me, punctuating the tension between us.
Our ride home had turned into a heated exchange, the playful banter now replaced by a tense argument.
He stumbled up the stairs, each step heavy with frustration, the door shuddering as he forcefully closed and locked it.
"Dammit Joe, open the damn door. If anyone is going to storm off from a conversation dramatically and slam doors, it will be me!" My voice echoed through the closed door, my irritation evident in every word.
I gave up, the sound of the TV being turned up made it known that not only was he not up to talking but he also wasn't up to listening.
Rolling my eyes, I turned to leave, until a small click and a creaking door stopped me in my tracks.
"What the hell is wrong with you? I watch you flirt with countless women all the time, and I never ever disrespect you the way you're disrespecting m—" Before I could finish, I was pressed against the wall, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as pain shot through me.
My right hand was now pinned above my head, trapped in his firm grip, while the other pressed against his chest in a pathetic attempt to halt the inevitable. His piercing brown eyes bore into mine with a magnetic passion, delving deep into the depths of my soul. With every breath, the air filled with tension, the weight of his gaze leaving me breathless and in an unshakable trance.
His fingers coiled around my neck, exerting a gentle pressure that almost sent me down to my knees. At this point, my body is quivering with need.
"Shh..just..just stop t-talking." He stuttered, a brief pause punctuating his struggle for composure, his head tilting back slightly as if seeking refuge from what was brewing within him. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips while a deep exhale escaped through flared nostrils, a telltale sign of his effort to remain composed. I could sense the temper trying to rise beneath the surface, almost as if there was an intense battle between his restraint and lust playing out internally.
"N-no," I stammered, my brain scattered, torn between wanting to submit to him and standing my ground. Every nerve in my body tingled, yet I couldn't allow myself to give in so easily. It drove me mad that he held such power over me, a power that I both craved and resented.
He shook his head, at my defiance, his eyes smoldering with a determination to put me in my place. With a swift motion, his hand seized the hem of my sundress, tugging it upwards until it pooled at my waist, granting him unrestricted access to the part of me that throbbed for his skilled fingers.
I quivered as his fingertips danced with featherlight caresses along the delicate fabric covering my heated core. My juices seeped through my panties and onto his fingers like a magnetic pull.
"I hope Jimmy didn't get you this wet," he teased, his voice coated with playful seduction as he continued to tease me through my panties. Succumbing to the touch of his fingers, I arched against the wall, a symphony of soft whimpers escaping my parted lips.
I felt Roman's smirk against my neck, the sensation sending goosebumps all over while his breath ghosted over my skin.
"Of course he did," I confessed with a coy smile, letting the thrill of our forbidden game wash over me, each whispered word feeding his anger.
He growled before tossing me onto the bed. I couldn't help but giggle as I propped myself up on my elbows, but he didn't seem to think anything was funny.
His gaze was intense, darker than usual, and his features contorted into a fierce expression that could've fucked me on its own. Perhaps I shouldn't have provoked him. Oops.
With his continued predatory glare, he closed the distance between us, his head descending between my parted thighs. In one swift motion, he tore my panties in half, discarding them without a second thought. And oh, the way he teased me, it was a delicious torture, each touch making me yearn for more.
His focus lingered on my outer lips, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing bites. While he occasionally delved deeper, penetrating me with his tongue, my clit throbbed with a need for more attention. Desperate for release, I grasped at the sheets, my hips arching in a silent plea for friction against my pearl.
"Joe, please, just eat me already," I moaned, the urgency in my voice didn't make him budge as I begged for him to satisfy the ache within me.
He chuckled softly against my pussy, relishing in the sound of my gasp before responding, his fingers sliding effortlessly into my slick heat, claiming me with ease. I melted into his touch completely, now under his possession as he exerted his dominance over me.
My breath hitched, becoming erratic as he pleasured me. With such a slowness, his fingers moved in and out of me, each stroke grazing my g spot. I could've sworn his fingers were in my stomach. His tongue, a welcome intrusion, teased my dripping folds as his fingers worked along my velvety walls.
"Tell me, baby. Tell me it's mine," he demanded his voice a deep baritone that sent intense vibrations coursing through my body. He looked up at me, his eyes smoldering as he snatched my soul.
"Oh, fuck, baby," I panted, my orgasm on the brink. This one was going to consume me entirely.
"It's all yours," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper.
He withdrew his fingers, leaving me momentarily bereft. But before I could voice my protest, he forcefully spread my legs wider, his tongue plunging deep inside me with a hunger that mirrored my own. It was as if he was determined to devour me, to claim every part of me from the inside out as his own.
My hands instinctively found his head, urging him deeper. My eyelids fluttered shut, my world narrowing to the sensation of his tongue swirling and thrusting within me, his lips capturing my clit with soft slurps and gentle kisses.
I unraveled in his embrace, my body shaking uncontrollably with the intensity of my release. The sheets were no match against the grip I had on them. He set every nerve ending ablaze with ecstasy as he continued drinking me up. He moaned against my pussy catching every single drop it had to offer. He loved the way I tasted.
Running my fingers through his hair, I struggled to catch my breath as I basked in the aftermath of my climax.
"That's right, my love. It's. All. Mine," he murmured between tender kisses..
Tell me, tell me baby
It's all mine...
-----------------
Whew, he could be mad at me all he wants..
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginaswanmills @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx
#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#wwefanfic#romanreignsimagine#roman reigns smut#romanreignsoneshot#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns x reader
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Winter's King 13
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. ����
The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure.
You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey.
As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words.
‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar.
The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed?
“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.”
“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--”
“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.”
The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him.
“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through.
“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within.
The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further.
The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin.
“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--”
“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.”
“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists.
The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths.
You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee.
“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.”
“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--”
“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.”
“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--”
“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.”
“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.”
The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly.
“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.”
“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.”
She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.”
“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--”
“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--”
The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up.
“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips.
“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.”
“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?”
“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance.
“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.”
“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly.
“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues.
“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--”
“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!”
The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you.
“Go, fetch wine,” he relents.
You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him.
You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue.
You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid.
You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving.
You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him.
“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides.
The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly.
“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps.
“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?”
The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.
“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt.
“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?”
Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you.
“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath.
As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber.
You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy.
You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall.
Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze.
“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.”
“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.”
Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts.
“Wait, what happened?” She mopes.
“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.”
“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.”
Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead.
“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses.
“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.”
He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold.
“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.”
“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.”
“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine.
Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind.
The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no.
“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise.
You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose.
“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.”
“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.”
“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!”
“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says.
“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.
As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair.
“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.”
“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.”
“Let the maid go,” the king grits.
“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.”
Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.”
“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.”
“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks.
You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly.
“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.”
The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples.
“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises.
“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.”
The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself.
“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?”
Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?”
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#the witcher#winter's king
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Insomnia
AN: Sixth and final fic for @moonknight-events' MK Bingo! I wish I'd been able to do the entire board like I wanted but alas. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you to @whatthefishh for looking this over for me ❤️
Steven can't sleep and you, uh, help him out.
(Un-beta’d)
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned)
Prompt: Handjobs
Words: 1,233
Pairing: Steven Grant x GN!Reader (pretty sure this could be read as GN, please let me know if that's incorrect)
Warnings: handjob (as the prompt indicates lol), cursing, kissing, mild biting, praise kink, sub!Steven, please let me know if I missed anything.
AO3
——————
Steven can’t sleep.
He’s tried everything he can think of, his usual tried and true methods (and even some of the old ones), but none of them have worked.
He chews his lip, glancing over to where you’re asleep beside him. You look so relaxed, so peaceful, your lovely lips quirked in a slight smile. He wonders what you’re dreaming about (was it him?)...wishes he could be dreaming too. The urge to wake you is strong, you’ve told him before that he can when this happens, but he just can’t bring himself to disturb you.
Steven sighs, turning over on his side. He closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep.
That doesn’t work either.
He tosses and turns, trying to find a comfortable position, one that will finally allow him to fall into the blissful depths of sleep but, no matter what he does, nothing helps. He feels even worse when you begin to stir beside him, whining softly as you’re unwillingly pulled back to consciousness. He stills, trying not to move (or even breathe) in the hopes that you’ll fall back into the abyss.
“Steven?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.
He waits silently for a moment, then sighs, turning slightly to look at you over his shoulder.
“So sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“S’okay,” you slur, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
You push yourself up into a sitting position, eyes meeting his in the darkness as you reach out to gently push the curls back from his forehead. “Trouble sleeping again?”
Steven nods, his eyelids fluttering at your touch.
“How can I help?”
He smiles tiredly at you. “Not sure you can, love.”
You stick your bottom lip out in a pout and he chuckles softly, reaching out to thumb at it. “S’alright, I’ll be fine. You should go back to sleep though.”
You shake your head, settling your back against the headboard. “I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re awake beside me.”
With a resigned sigh, Steven sits up to join you.
“I’m so sorry, love,” he says again, taking your hand in his and squeezing it lightly.
You shush him, effectively dismissing his apologies. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
Steven just sighs again, his shoulder pressed against yours as he idly runs his thumb over your knuckles. You sit in silence for a moment, just watching him, the meager light in the room softening his sharper features.
Then it dawns on you, how you can help.
You lean in slowly, tilting your head to get the right angle. He doesn’t notice how close you are until you’re right there, inches away from his face, and before he can protest, you press your lips to his. Immediately, he melts, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You start slow, soft, the pressure gentle, the pace unhurried. After a moment, you brush your tongue along the seam of his lips, his low groan sending a shiver through your body. He’s always so responsive, your Steven, whether it’s a moan or a simple flutter of his eyelashes, he always lets you know how you’re making him feel.
You kiss him deeper, languidly licking into his mouth, your fingers clenching in the fabric of his t-shirt as his tongue slides against yours. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, in him, in the taste of him, the feel of him—but then you remember why you started this, remember that he needs you. You relax your fingers, allowing your hand to slip slowly down his chest, over his belly, coming to settle at his waist. Your fingers briefly toy with the band of his sleep pants before slipping beneath them and his boxers.
Steven breaks your kiss with a surprised yelp as you take him in your hand, his breath leaving him in a sharp gasp as you begin to gently work your hand over his length. You shush him, whispering soothing words into his skin as you kiss him wherever your lips can reach.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes, involuntarily arching into your touch.
You respond with a whispered plea for him to relax, your thumb sliding over the velvety tip of him, dragging the prettiest moan from his lips. He stops resisting then, losing himself in the pleasure of your touch, rewarding you on every stroke with breathy sighs and groans.
“So good for me, Steven,” you whisper, the praise drawing a whimper from between his lips.
You smile at the sound, tracing his collarbones with the tip of your tongue as you twist your wrist just so, dragging another delicious sound from him. He pushes up into your fist, his fingers twisting in the bedding beneath him. You move back up his neck, nipping briefly at his jugular and soothing the area with your tongue. Beside you, Steven’s breathing is erratic, his skin hot, hips thrusting in time with the stroke of your hand. You pull back to gaze at him, admiring his mussed curls, kiss-bitten lips, and glassy eyes—he always was beautiful in the throes.
You lean in again, sealing your lips over a spot on his neck. He keens when you suck, your hand gently squeezing his cock to mimic the pressure. You move your hand a little faster, increasing the friction, and his breath hitches, hands now fisted in the sheets beneath him.
“Darling,” he pants, his neck tense with the effort of holding himself back.
You shush him again, pulling back to meet his gaze. He’s close, so close, his big brown eyes pleading—for you, for your love, for your permission.
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him, eyes flickering over his face, drinking him in as your touch pushes him closer and closer to the edge. When you’ve teased him enough, you lean in, nuzzling your nose against his ear.
“Come for me, Steven.”
And he does, his body going rigid, as he erupts all over your fist with a choked moan. You keep working him, his body twitching as the pleasure rolls through him. When he finally stills, you release him, whispering your praise as you press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw. He’s absolutely wrecked when you pull back, body limp against the headboard, panting like he’s just run a marathon. You smile at him softly, pushing the curls from his damp forehead with your clean hand before slipping off the bed to get a washcloth.
Once you’ve cleaned both yourself and him up, you settle back in the bed beside him. For a moment, you wonder if he’s already asleep, his eyes closed, breathing (finally) even. He stirs at the movement beside him though, his eyelids heavy as he opens them and smiles at you dreamily.
“Your turn, Love,” he slurs, reaching out for you despite his inability to keep his eyes open for more than 3 seconds.
You chuckle softly, shaking your head as you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Sleep, Steven.”
“But—”
“Sleep,” you insist, yawning as you pull him down with you beneath the blankets.
Steven grunts in protest, but doesn’t stop you, his eyes already falling shut again as you snuggle against his side. You smile as his breathing evens out again, the gentle rhythm of it lulling you back to sleep.
If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖
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#my fic#moon knight bingo#steven grant x you#steven grant x reader#steven grant fanfic#steven grant fic#moon knight fic#moon knight fanfic#steven grant smut#moon knight smut
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Made For One
Alrighty, here we are with the fem reader peace. I went rough with this one. There is slight choking, mommy kink, a little BDSM, and a small bit of exhibitionism. Also, it's set up to where I could always do another part, you know, if there's enough interest.
Length 2.1K
Fem Reader x GP Hwasa
As you were walking down the hallway, preparing for your next class, you were approached by your classmate, Karina. She flirted with you a little, touching your shoulders as she asked if you could study together sometime. You think about your schedule quickly before telling her when you’re available. “So Sunday? You could spend the night over at my house,” she suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” you tell her before you head off to class together. It was hidden at the end of the hallway by itself. You couldn’t find it to save your life on the first day of class, but you now have a handle on it. Outside the classroom was your professor, Hwasa, with an annoyed expression. She wore her usual outfit: a tight white button-down shirt and a short gray skirt. Hwasa’s muscular thighs were visible to everyone. “Hello, professor,” you greet her.
She places her arm on your shoulder, “I need to talk to you for a second after class.” You nod your head, gulping as you sit in the back of the class. You worry about what Hwasa wanted the entire time before you even knew it; the class was over, and you were left alone with her. Hwasa locks the door to her classroom before walking toward you. Your eyes move upward, catching Hwasa as she walks over to you, unbuttoning most of her shirt, her tan bra poking out. “Who was that you were talking to?” She asks, already knowing the answer. Hwasa sits on your desk, eyes cast down at you.
“S-she just wanted to study together.”
Hwasa places her hand on your shoulder before moving it up, her fingers running along your neck before she forces your head up. “Don’t lie to me. I saw what she was doing. You had a big grin on your face, too.”
“I’m sorry.” You reply meekly.
“I think you’re missing a part,” Hwasa replies as her grip strengthens.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Hwasa grins, and she lets go of you, “That’s a good girl, but I still have to punish you. I’ll be nice and give you the option, here or home?”
“H-here.” You knew your answer didn’t matter. Hwasa was going to take you whenever she wanted. You knew the punishment was going to be rough and leave you bedridden for a while; you also knew who you became during Hwasa’s punishments. Your eyes move down, stopping as they see the bulge pressing against Hwasa’s skirt.
“Mommy’s going to teach you a lesson,” Hwasa whispers into your ear before hopping off your desk. Come over here,” she says as she walks to her desk. She waits patiently, tapping her nails along the wooden desk. You walk over to her and feel her hand move to the small of your back. “Get on the desk, now.” You follow her orders, sitting on the table. “Lay down on your back.” Again, you do as Hwasa says, lying down on her desk. She moves you up, pulling you until your head is off the edge of the desk. You watch her unzip her skirt; her panties do little to hide her cock. It was long and girthy, pointing straight to Hwasa’s stomach until she dropped them, too. “You know what’s coming, right baby?” You nod your head slowly. Hwasa drags the tip of her cock against your lips, tracing them. You stick your tongue out slightly, knowing what Hwasa likes. You hear her groan as she feels your wet tongue touch the tip of her cock.
Hwasa pushes the head into your mouth slowly; your lips stretch as she pushes her shaft in. “That’s it, take this cock down your throat, whore.” With that, she rams the rest of her cock down your throat. You feel her cock stretch it, and her balls smack against your face. Hwasa stares at your throat, watching it expand as she begins thrusting. Saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, flowing down your face as Hwasa uses your throat like a fleshlight. You feel yourself getting wet, your panties quickly becoming soaked as you give into your mommy’s demands. You don’t even react as Hwasa tears open your shirt and rips your bra off. You curl your toes as you feel Hwasa slap one of your tits. “Dirty bitch. I bet you were hoping to get some dick from someone else.” Your moans are muffled, leaving you unable to respond. You catch glimpses of Hwasa taking off her shirt and tossing her bra onto the ground, shaking her head to adjust her hair as she continues to use you. You feel the pain from another one of her slaps before she grabs both of your nipples, pulling on them harshly and making you scream out from the pleasure. You end up gargling your saliva, your throat still blocked by Hwasa’s cock.
She lets go of your nipples before dragging her cock out of your throat, making sure to rub it against your face and cover you in your spit. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached for your right tit with one hand while running your fingers along your slit with the other. You feel Hwasa’s hand connect with your cheek a moment later. “Who told you can touch yourself?!” She yells at you, and you feel the sting from the hit, but it all blends together with the pleasure.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’ll be a good girl from now on,” you tell her. Hwasa gives you an annoyed look before spitting on your tits. She climbs the table, sitting just under your head as she places her cock between your tits, pressing them together before beginning to thrust. You feel the heat from her cock as she moves between your tits. You run your hands along her thighs, only for her to chastise you.
“Oh, you want to touch me?” Hwasa adjusts her position, fully sitting on you before grinding her ass against you. “If you want me so bad, here you go. Why don’t you be a good girl and eat me? Maybe I’ll go easy on you later.” Without a second thought, you tease Hwasa’s ass with your tongue, moving it around her puckered asshole. You can hear her groan, and it pushes you to do more. You greedily squeeze at Hwasa’s ass as your tongue pushes inside her. She rocks back and forth and applies more pressure. You struggle to breathe but continue to please your mommy. Hwasa rewards you by twisting your nipples, making you moan as you eat her up. “You’re a hungry little bitch aren’t you?” She says with mild amusement. You were running out of breath and trying to tell Hwasa. Still, she remained sitting on you; just as you were about to pass out, she climbed off you, stroking her cock and painting your barely conscious face with her cum. “There, you have something else to eat.” She says before walking to the side of the table, stroking her cock as she thought about what to do next.
Hwasa gave herself more time to think by stripping you of your skirt, leaving you in your panties for a second. She slapped you pussy, with a hard smack that nearly made you cum. “You’re such a dirty whore, getting off on this. I bet you want to cum, don’t you?”
You nod quickly. “I want to cum, mommy.”
“Okay, mommy will let you cum.” Hwasa says as she climbs onto the table, grabbing your legs and folding you into a mating press. Using her weight to keep you in place, she reaches for you, wrapping one hand around your neck. “I don’t want you talking to anyone else. You are mommy’s fleshlight. You’re going to do whatever I say. If I tell you to strip in the middle of class so I can fuck you, you will do it. Understand?” Hwasa moves your panties to the side and drags her cock between your lips, making you whimper. “I said, do you understand?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m Mommy’s fleshlight.”
Hwasa lets go of your throat and caresses your cheek, a soft smile forming. “That’s a good girl. That’s all I wanted to hear.” Hwasa points the tip of her cock right at your entrance and impales you with her first thrust; you feel her cock tear through you as she stretches your tiny cunt and splits your walls apart. “You’re you tight for mommy. Tell mommy how much you want her to fuck you.”
“I want your cock, mommy. Please fuck me,” You tell her in a small voice. Hwasa smiled as she began to move inside you. Her cock moved in and out slowly at first before it started to pick up speed. It was deep inside you, practically kissing your womb as she pushed every inch inside you. Your moans filled the classroom as Hwasa leaned in and nipped at your neck, leaving hickeys all along it.
“If I ever see you with anyone else, I’ll teach you a much rougher lesson.” She whispers before nibbling on your ear. You’re overwhelmed by all the sensations and feel yourself about to cum. Hwasa feels it, too; your walls were clamping down on her cock. You could feel its veins and the way it began to throb.
“Mommy, I want your cum. Please give it to me.” You whine as you grip her arms. Hwasa grunts as she continues to pound away at your body. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge until you weren’t able to hold it together anymore. You cum on Hwasa’s cock, forcing her to climax a moment later. Your mind melts as you feel Hwasa’s warm cum pours into you, painting your walls white as she claims your body.
Hwasa pulls out slowly, her cock covered in a mixture of cum and your nectar. She climbs off the table and gets by your face, smacking it with her dirtied cock. “Come on, baby, clean it up.” She says, placing her hands on her hips as you open your mouth and use your tongue to clean her cock. You taste yourself on it. It arouses you, and you begin to touch yourself, your fingers playing with your clit as you massage one of your tits. You can feel Hwasa’s cum flow from your cunt, making a small puddle as you masturbate.
As you were finishing, Hwasa dragged her cock out slowly, rubbing it on your face. “We’re done here, sweetie. You can go.” Hwasa says cooly as she gathers her clothes and dresses herself. You remain on the table, masturbating until you cum again, coating the desk in a layer of your nectar. “Clean everything up before you go,” Hwasa says as she leaves you alone in the room.
Hwasa told you to arrive early in the morning the next time you had class. When you got to the classroom, Karina, who had flirted with you the other day, was standing outside. The door to the room opened, and Hwasa said, “You’re both here. Great. Come inside.” The two of you stepped inside, and Hwasa told the girl to sit down as she locked the door behind you. As you passed Hwasa, she wrapped her arm around you and whispered. “Strip for mommy.”
“But”
“Now.” Karina watched as you stripped down to nothing. This was Hwasa showing her just who you belonged to. She got behind you and continued the show, “Suck me off.” You kneel before Hwasa as she pulls out her cock, stuffing it into your mouth. You glance over at Karina, noticing a slight bulge under her skirt before Hwasa pushes you to her pelvis. Hwasa poured her cum into your stomach before pulling out. You open your mouth to show her you drank it all, earning a smile. “Good girl,” Hwasa says as she helps you to your feet. Hwasa sits at her desk, facing Karina as she plants you on her cock. “Karina, this one is all mine. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Mommy.” You moan as you bounce on her cock. Having Karina watch you turned you on, she could see everything, from your bouncing tits to your bare cunt. She was stunned.
“Oh? It looks like you're hard, too. You can jerk off if you want to.” Hwasa says, licking your neck as you near your climax. As Karina pulls out her feeble cock Hwasa humiliates her. “That’s all you have? You couldn’t please her if you tried.” Karina jerked herself off quickly, cumming over herself in a matter of seconds. You came a moment later, your walls tightening around Hwasa’s cock as she dumped her cum in you. “I think this could be fun,” Hwasa whispers. “I think I’ll make you both mine.” She whispers into your ear.
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❧ prompt: "Why are you so worked up?" "Because they wouldn't stop fucking staring at you like they wanted to eat you." From here.
❧ the act’s performers: kiyoomi sakusa x f!reader
❧ wc: 1.7k
❧ warnings: swearing, jealousy, kissing, insecurity (let me know if I missed stuff)
❧ a/n: just a little something lolol idk I hope ya'll like it!
"You're not my type."
"And you think you're mine?"
Sakusa Kiyoomi could not believe the conversation he was forced to participate in. A mixture of disgust and amusement contorted his features at the woman staring up at him with a devious glint in her irises. Over the last year, it was almost nonstop bickering between the two of you. Well, according to Atsumu it was flirting on your end and bickering on his friend's end.
To be honest, a study needed to be conducted on why your presence alone could drive the wing spiker to insanity. From the way you would push past his physical boundaries without hesitation to the siren-like expressions, you would toss his way during class. It stripped him of his rationality and delivered him straight to madness.
All he wanted was to focus on college and volleyball, and yet sometimes all he could focus on was you.
"If I'm not your type, why do you only bother me?" The black-haired male surveyed your face for a nonverbal answer to his question. However, as always, he was greeted with a flirtatious bat of your lashes rather than a clue as to what was going on in that head of yours.
"How are you so certain that I only bother you?" Bringing your index finger to your mouth, you lightly bit down on your nail with a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your answer evidently caught the male off guard, as there was a momentary crack in his usual nonchalant demeanour. "How arrogant of you to think you're the only one."
"If you have other toys, go bother them instead. I'm busy." Sakusa shifted his gaze away from you, with tension applying to his jawline. He had to bite back the urge to pout. Where was his mask again? Why did you have to catch him in a moment when he was shieldless?
"Really? You won't miss me, pretty boy?" The hand that was once near your mouth was now extended so that you could guide his attention back to you. To both of your surprise, he did not stop you immediately when your finger applied light force on his chin. Though once his dark eyes landed on yours, he was prompt in swatting your hand away.
"First, don't call me that. Second, why would I miss you?" The volleyball player's words were coated in venom, but he ignored the bitter taste. It was nothing in comparison to the emotion flooding his chest right now.
And the last thing he wanted to admit was that his heart was drowning in jealousy.
"Okay, pretty boy. Just remember... Be careful what you wish for." After dipping an eyelid into a wink, a harmonic laugh follows your words as you step away from the male.
Sakusa instantly regretted his choice of words, and yet all he could do was glare in response.
****
Silence and peace accompanied Sakusa for the following two weeks, along with bright warm spring days. His volleyball team even secured a win against their rival, one that had the hallways of the college buzzing in excitement. But the male could not find himself satisfied with his victory - not when someone was missing from the stands. A certain someone who attended his every game to shamelessly flirt and ward off the fangirls.
It was becoming progressively clearer just how much your absence impacted his daily life. Just how much he did not truly care for quiet days. And just how much he missed your mischievous mannerisms.
Atsumu practically snapped at his team-mate on day 13 - claiming that Sakusa was merely ruining his own chances with the girl he obviously liked. Sakusa cursed out the blonde-haired boy in response, but he secretly agreed with everything that was said.
But what was stopping him from seeking you out? Over the last year, you were the one who pursued him. Should the tables not turn anyway at some point? It was only fair that he chase after you now. Even if that meant going against his better judgment.
Who said emotions were supposed to make sense?
It was day 16 when Sakusa was finally successful in diminishing the distance between you two. Well, rather than being successful in his mission, it was pure luck that caused him to accidentally stumble onto your location. However, luck was truly a nasty creature, as the scene he had entered was one that had a storm brewing inside of the male's chest.
A sickening realization had suddenly plagued the male.
He hated the idea of you "bothering" someone else. Why the hell did he send you into the arms of another!?
"If I had known there were such pretty girls in Japan, I would have come here earlier." The blue and blonde-haired male towered over you with a smirk on his mouth. Based on his accent, he was a foreigner who likely transferred to the school recently.
"I'm flattered that you think I'm pretty enough to move across the globe, Kaiser." A cheerful smile painted across your lips as you interlocked your fingers behind your back. It was more friendly than flirtatious, yet Sakusa felt rage burn in his palms.
When he made the comment about your other toys, he did not think you'd actually give him space. In the past, he had made all sorts of snarky remarks. How many times did he tell you to go away? He had lost count. But what mattered was that you never acted upon his harsh words.
What changed now? Were you fed up with him?
"I'd do a lot more than that for someone as pretty as you, y/n." This time the male named Kaiser lightly grabbed onto your chin, forcing your head to move skyward. And as he leaned in closer, his eyelids dropped just a smidge which even had someone like you blinking in slight astonishment.
But before you could register what was occurring - a new individual entered the stage. Warm fingers were wrapped around your wrist, and with one swift motion, you were pulled away from Kaiser. A familiar scent of laundry detergent tickled your nose. It didn't take you too long to realize whose chest you were currently pressed against.
"Kiyoomi?" His name was breathed out with a fascinated laugh as you peered up at him. Although, his consideration was not on you at all. No, he was engaged in a staring match with the foreign soccer player.
"Y/n. I didn't know you have no standards." The comment comes from Sakusa who refuses to release your wrist. A grimace moulds your features at his incorrect and disrespectful assumption.
"Oh-oh, what do we have here? You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend, y/n." Kaiser raised an eyebrow with a humourless chuckle vibrating in his chest.
"I don't have a boyfriend, that's why." Sakusa tensed up at your retort, which only brought laughter to flow past your lips. "But I do have a grumpy cat it seems." A quick glance was stolen of the male beside you who remained focused on what you realized he considered his love rival.
"But your heart isn't owned by the grumpy cat, now is it?" The soccer player discovered far too much entertainment in the situation. Sakusa was practically sending daggers in his direction, and yet it was all just simply amusing. Kaiser was not interested in you enough to willingly enter a fistfight. But he could not keep himself from teasing the unknown male. "I'm sure I can satisfy your needs much better than he can, my sweet y/n."
"We're done here." It's the latter comment that has the wing spiker suddenly dragging you down the hallway. However, right before leading you away, he released your wrist and instead tangled his fingers with yours. Butterflies sang a melody inside of your stomach as a number of curses were mumbled against the fabric of his mask, causing you to stifle back a titter.
"Why are you so worked up?" The inquiry is posed once Sakusa leads you into an empty classroom. The black-haired male only realized he was holding your hand when his feet stopped carrying him to his destination. A light blush could be seen peeking out from the top of his mask.
It was ridiculously adorable.
"Because he wouldn't stop fucking staring at you like he wanted to eat you." His words were huffed out as his fingers were sent to toy with the strings looped along his ears.
"Eat me? Oh, I'm sure he wanted to do much more." Since ending the physical contact, Sakusa remained a meters distance away from you. A calculated decision on his part, clearly. But you were prompt in destroying that distance with a few steps forward. "I thought you wanted me to play with my other toys, hm?"
The volleyball player elected to remain silent, instead his dark irises bore into yours. Even when you extended your hand to lightly remove his mask, he did not utter a word. Nor did he disturb your movements.
When he brought you here he was not thinking straight, he had no plan. He just wanted to separate you from that man.
"Kiyoomi, if I had known you were such a jealous boy, I would have used this to my advantage earlier." The admission was exhaled with a dramatic sigh, but the playful edge to your tone was difficult to miss. "If you want me, pretty boy, I think now is the time to confess. Unless, you want me to go back to -"
The soccer player's name was swallowed back down as Sakusa's lips suddenly crashed against yours. There was no way in hell he would ever allow you to say another man's name in a romantic context again. The pads of his fingers brushed over your cheeks so lightly you could have confused it for a breeze. The earlier feelings of jealousy melted away with each passing second, as Sakusa bathed in the thrill of finally giving in to his desires. And when you broke the close proximity to catch a breath of air, he was quick to bring your mouth back to his in an urgency you had never expected from the male.
Well, it was needless to say... Operation jealousy was a success.
#sakusa x you#sakusa x reader#sakusa x y/n#sakusa fluff#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#sakusa imagines#sakusa kiyoomi#haikyuu sakusa#hq sakusa#haikyuu
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Pins n' Needles p.2
Pairing: Chris x fem!reader
Warnings: Smuttttt / reader is a bit rough in the beginning / angst (kind of??) / piercing kink / public sex (sort of) / piercer!Chris / fem stimulation / cunnilingus / vibrating tongue piercing / nipple play / switch!Chris / switch!reader / chris gets jealous ;) / ‘sugar’, ‘ma’, ‘mama’ / Chris + vertical labret, eyebrow & tongue pierced
Summary: You have been seeing Chris for a while now. You and him have made a connection outside of his piercing shop. However, he’s taken aback by what you have underneath your clothes.
Author’s Note: Guys ik i haven’t posted anything proper in ages. I’m making it up to you today I promise. But i hope you enjoy this one bc i certainly did like writing this. From Maxine, with love ♡.
“Baby, step outside your mind. You’ve been really good, you’ve been really good. You’ve been thinking ‘bout being bad ever since I put you on.” - LIFE OF THE PARTY, THE WEEKND.
𓆩☥𓆪
A notification illuminates the dark surface area of your room from your phone. You roll over across your bed for it to be a reminder of your appointment at the piercing shop today.
The grip over your phone tightens. It had been a while since the two of you met up one on one at his workplace.
You were incredibly excited about seeing him again after what happened the last time you went for a piercing from his parlour. Your head fades into a blur for a second as you recollect everything that’s happened every single time you and your body piercer go to see each other.
Besides all the intimate times, you get along great with him. You’ve come to realise that you and him have incredibly similar interests. This has concluded to Chris latching onto you even more, although neither of you have consulted each other about taking things to the next level and trying something more serious.
Chris’ sense of style and taste in fashion has always piqued your interest ever since you first walked into his store. Ever since you first laid eyes on him you always prayed that each appointment, he’d be there working a shift. Outside of his work, you have gone over to his place from time to time. You ask him if you can borrow his clothes because you’re so obsessed with his seemingly dark yet tame aesthetic. You and him have grown to be so close.
But what you’re most fond of was the way he’d twirl and twist the metal bar clasped onto his tongue around his mouth, sliding it over the shell of his enamels, shiny from his spit.
It was your favourite piercing of his, you love it just as much as he does. You grow hot and bothered reminiscing about everything that’s happened between you and him.
You look down at the time. ‘8:30’. You rise up from your lying position and get ready for the appointment.
𓆩☥𓆪
You breathe slowly, trying to help soothe the tingling nerves jolting down the curve of your spine. Trotting down the steep stairs to the familiar sanctuary where he resides.
Again, the place was empty. A moment of confusion floats until realisation hits you.
He’s probably cleared his schedule again…
You reach over the counter to try and peak over into the back. As per usual, the room is mostly dim. The LED lights kindled a red hue along the edges of the walls.
There’s more posters propped up around the place. Chris really does like decorating the place. It’s what he does the most when he’s not busy with an appointment.
You’re trying to find any sort of silhouette of a person coming into your vision. It’s hard to see and you have to squint to view anything properly.
“Hellooo… Chris?” You ponder out. After a few seconds, you hear tussling and rushed footsteps coming your way.
Chris, your body piercer. Who you’ve been fucking every now and again ever since you got that particular piercing on that very fateful day.
His locs, which once were dishevelled and messy, are now cut short. You can actually see his eyebrow piercing as clear as day now. You grin at the thought of him pampering himself up like that. You quite like the new change in his appearance.
“Hey, sugar! I’ve missed you.” He exclaims with sheer delight in his voice. “What can I do for you today, hm?” He slouches and rests his elbows on the desk. Your arched position across him releases and you stand upright again in embarrassment.
“Hi Chris, I’m here for another piercing today.” You grip at the zip of your grey hoodie. You start to fondle at it trying to avert your eye contact from Chris.
“Is that so?” In the corner of your eye you can see Chris lick at his lip making the top ball on his labret barbell wet.
“Did you make sure I was the only appointment today again?” You giggle sarcastically. The bitter confidence in your question made him grin feverishly.
“Mhm, like always Ma.” The nickname he’s been using on you for a while now. You’re still not sure whether you’re used to it or not. You love it either way though.
Chris gathers the waiver in his grasp and hands it to you. Veins running down from his hands all the way to the end of his forearms. Sculpting around his muscles capsuled in his black graphic tee with a deer in headlights plastered on it.
He still wears the large Vivienne Westwood orb around his neck. You never noticed before, but as his finger taps to the beat of the music playing in the background, his finger has a sigil tattoo that is plastered right below his nail bed.
From what you’ve gathered from him so far, Chris doesn’t like to appear as “normal”. But he doesn’t stick out too much either. He perks out the crowd only slightly with his few piercings and a small tattoo. He doesn’t try too hard. You like that in him. Piercings and body modifications is also something he personally and genuinely enjoys. He didn’t choose this job because it was his one and only option. He loves the idea of people being creative with their own identity and partaking in helping them with that task. It’s what makes you so attracted to him. Besides the fact he’s so handsome.
“Signature here and here please, sugar.” He gestures down at the document as he mutters offering you the pen pinched between his thumb and pointer.
You snap out of your trance. You take the pen and engrave your details in. You glance up at Chris for a second to see him staring down at you. He tilts his head to the side when he notices you look up.
You immediately break eye contact and finish writing your signature and stumble back to your feet again after leaning on the desk to hand the paper back to him.
“Come head down here in the back for me, Ma.” Chris uses the middle and pointer finger to beckon you to follow him. And you do so without hesitation, just like before.
𓆩☥𓆪
You’re sitting on the stretcher waiting patiently and admiring Chris simply doing his job. Like always, Chris has his sterilised equipment and black latex gloves.
He breaks open an alcohol pad with his teeth and rubs it against your skin. He sets it down onto the steel tray with a large array of needles and jewellery.
“How’ve you been holding up, anyway?” You break the silence and Chris turns around after his focus has shifted. Your legs are rocking back and forth from the adrenaline pumping through your blood vessels in preparation for the piercing.
“I’ve been fine, mostly. I haven’t seen you in a while. Why don’t you stop by more often, sugar? You never come ‘visit unless it’s a new piercing you want.” Chris speaks as he has his back turned once again. Trying to look for the right needle gauge.
“W-well, I wouldn’t really wanna bother you at your place of work. I’m pretty sure you’re busy with other customers.” You sigh hesitantly.
“Whaaat?” Chris exaggerates his confusion. You huff out a laugh and Chris turns around again, gazing at you.
“Didn’t I tell you? You’re my favourite customer. I’d love to have you over any time, Ma.” The glint in his eye matches the shine on his piercings.
“Hmm, I’ll have a think about it.” You return slyly. Chris chuckles and moves the tray closer to you.
“Is it okay if you take your jacket off?” He asks.
You grit your teeth. You purposefully didn’t wear a bra today for the sake of the jacket being there yet you’re now starting to regret your choices.
You hesitantly pull the sleeves and drape it down and put it beside you on the stretcher.
Chris’ lively expression sank. His jaw clenched as he looked down at your shirt. The shape of two piercings on both your nipples peeking out of the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly. You look down at the floor in shame.
He scoffs bitterly because he knows, he knows that he wasn’t the one who did those piercings for you. The unpleasant surprise made his mood change almost instantaneously.
The atmosphere between you two grows thick. You try to look the other way as Chris positions the needle onto your now pink skin.
You can feel his glare on you. It’s burning deep into your skin, he refuses to look away whatsoever.
“On three. One, two, three.” Suddenly, the needle sinches your skin as the needle and jewellery goes in. The pain is harsher and more fiery. You audibly groan and sniffle, trying to stifle the tears welling up.
You’re also upset at the sudden change in mood from Chris. He was being so warm and welcoming earlier. He definitely noticed your nipple piercings.
Chris never struck you as the jealous type. You always thought he didn’t give a shit about what happens outside of meeting up to hang out or for sex. You two aren’t dating, so it’s understandable why you thought that. Chris also seems nonchalant when it comes to stuff like this. Your assumption is dead fucking wrong on your account though.
You wipe at your cheeks trying to conceal your overwhelming emotions pouring through.
Not a word came out of Chris’ mouth after the piercing. He’s gone cold all of a sudden. Not a single bit of praise, not even reassurance. He’s pissed off at something for sure.
“Chris? What’s wrong?” You ask him gently. He fails to look at you directly. He rushes to take the gloves off and throws them back into the tray carelessly.
“Nothing. Why?” He responds dryly. You’re still wondering if this is all because of what he saw beneath your shirt.
“Stop being so stale with me, Chris. I’m trying to communicate with you here.” Your tone hardens into stone. Your eyebrows furrow deeply and you grab Chris’ shoulder, swivelling him around so he’s now facing you properly.
Chris tries to dismiss you as much as he can. Even though he said nothing was wrong. You didn’t know he was this arrogant until now.
You take a step closer towards him. Your feet are almost stepping on his. Chris tries to inch away but hits the metal countertop with the tray resting on it clumsily. He swallows thickly and you can clearly see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he does so.
You can see his tough guy act go soft. He gets so nervous around you. And, fuck does it turn you on. You can hear the breaths coming out of his mouth both from how tense he is and how close you two are together.
Your tits practically grazing against his shirt. You take one step closer until your lips are almost touching.
You can feel the cold metal of his lip ring press against your skin. Sending shivers through your entire body.
Your figure is now fully pressed onto his. Chris can feel the hard bars pinched in your nipples digging through his shirt onto his skin.
He stutters as he palms the countertop behind him and grips at it. You can feel his breath turn into hard and sharp pants. You smirk, you almost laugh at yourself for being so upset about him being a dick earlier.
“What’s wrong, baby? Hm? ‘You jealous that I went to a different piercer this one time? Without telling you?” You tease him. You breathe down his ear gently while spitting these harsh rhetorics at him. His body shudders and you can feel something twitch down below.
“‘You getting hard over this? Really? How pathetic.” You utter through your teeth. Chris whimpers at your sour comment. You reach down to the bulge in his sweats and palm over the fabric.
“O-oh fuck…” he chokes up quietly. You can’t help but grin maliciously over the control you have over him at this moment in time. Him trying to act all pissed off before all this has you screaming inside with fulfilment.
You’re incredibly agitated at his stubbornness. You’re riled up especially at the fact that Chris was being so stern earlier.
He reaches down to make contact with your lips, but you refuse and glare up at him. He whines sadly with regret at your spiteful manner. He really fucking wanted to kiss you. To at least make up for his negativity towards you. Your hard stare matches his from a few moments ago. Giving him a taste of his own shitty medicine.
“P-please kiss me. I-I wanna feel your lips so bad, Mama. I’m so desperate…” He hides his lip ring in his mouth as he feeds his bottom lip inside it. His hands now clasped tightly around your waist.
“Tell me what’s wrong first, sweetheart.” You reply in his ear gently. Chris’ face fills with red as he tries to find the words to speak.
“...Y-yeah, I am jealous that you went to another piercer. Why did you do that anyway? I thought you were comfortable around me. You didn’t even tell me about it either. Kind of a dick move to be honest, Ma…”
He looks away shyly, removing his hands from your waist to rub them over his face. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry, baby. Honestly, I wanted it to be like a fun little surprise for when we next hooked up. I didn’t think you’d be so upset about it. I should’ve warned you beforehand.” You lean in and interlock your lips with his. The kiss is short but passionate. Chris’ hands make their way back down to your waist again.
“It’s okay, sugar. I like them a lot, actually. They’re hot as fuck.” His labret migrates slightly from the grin on his face. He cups one of your tits softly, breaking the tender moment.
He squeezes it which makes you squirm. His dick twitches harshly against you again.
“Fuck surprises. You should’ve told me you were getting these. I would’ve jerked off so much to the thought of your tits pierced.” You whimper as Chris’ hand makes its way underneath your shirt. He pulls and tugs at the piercing just enough to send a jolt down to your slick pussy.
“I-I actually might get a Christina. Do you want me to go to a different piercer or…?” You smirk up at him. He loves how fucking dirty you are. His dick is begging to be let out of his sweats. His eyebrow ring glints and he bites his bottom lip again. Fully hiding his labret.
“Fuck no, baby. I want you all to myself. Come to me when you wanna get a Christina. ‘kay, sugar?” Both of his hands are underneath your shirt, pinching and tugging at your nipples making you whine desperately, squeezing your legs shut.
Chris is so good at finding your sweet spots. You can’t say anything other than a pathetic “‘kay.” In response.
“That’s my good girl.” He whispers down your ear, still squeezing and pulling at your nipples. You whimper into his neck. You fucking loved Chris’ praise. Your puffy and red buds are fully hard and perked out now, sticking out your shirt to match with your slutty piercings alongside them.
“W-Want me to give you another blowjob? Just like the last time we were here alone.” You ask genuinely desperate for a breath. He looks back up at you after being severely distracted by your tits.
“Nevermind me, baby. I wanna make you feel so fucking good tonight. I wanna make you cum, Ma. Over and over. To make up for being such a dick earlier. Do you wanna help me change my tongue piercing? It’s for a good purpose, trust me, sugar.”
You’ve grown so impatient. You just wanted to shove him on the stretcher and fuck him senseless. But you oblige anyway.
Chris opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out. You twist the ball sitting right on top of his tongue and unscrew it carefully. You bite your lips in focus as he has his mouth agape, waiting patiently.
You successfully take the entire bar out. Leaving his tongue completely bare. He looks naked without it.
“Good girl. Now just sit down on the stretcher for me, baby.”
You sit down as Chris follows behind not long after.
He leans in slowly underneath your jaw to pepper soft kisses across your neck. You can feel the tip of his nose skim gently across your skin.
The sudden feeling of the cold shard of metal on your skin mixes with his hot breath and warm hands reaching under your shirt again.
He moves his head down teasingly to the roses of your nipples. Breathing on them slightly. That was enough for you to whine out as you start to grab onto Chris’ hands.
“You’re so sensitive, sugar…I wonder if it’s because of these slutty piercings.” He coos down into your ear connivingly. You feed your bottom lip into your mouth and bury your face into the crook of his neck.
His hands hastily tug onto the waistband of your pants. Trying to undo the button and zipper.
“Take these off, Ma… let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” As Chris pants out his words, he preps his different jewellery to put in whilst positioned in between your legs.
You sigh out a “Yes, Chris.” before twisting the button out and unzipping your pants and pulling them off completely.
You kick off your pants impatiently. You closed your legs, Chris staring down at you, completely vulnerable like this made you feel timid. What was underneath were deep, cherry red panties. Fully lace, barely hiding how fucking wet you are.
“Holy shit… you have such a perfect ass, sugar. How come you’ve never shown me this side of you before? You’re so fucking sexy.” He breathes. Worshipping the round cherries of your ass cheeks. Trying his hardest to not bite at them and leave a bruise.
“I-I like to make you feel good… because it makes me feel good.” You shiver under Chris’ touch. He rises to a full stance to lean over you, he sticks his tongue out again.
“Put the vibrator in, Ma.” With no hesitation, you screw it inside. You can already see the metal inside it start to condensate from his breathy pants. Chris pulls you into a deep kiss. The piercing feels so much more heavy. His soft and taffy tongue with the thick, steel bar in between made you so fucking turned on. You wrap your legs around Chris’ waist and he hums into your mouth in approval. Pressing his tent into your soaking wet panties.
He pulls away leaving a long and sloppy string of spit on both of your lips. He crouches down again and grips your thighs. Your hips buckle upwards in shock as he forcefully spreads your legs open.
“You’re so wet for me… such a good girl, aren’t you?” His voice echoes onto your clothed cunt. He gently rubs at your swollen clit with the pad of his finger slowly just to tease you.
He breathes on your pussy making your whole body tremble. You moan out into the air desperately wanting Chris to devour you.
He moves his head to smother gentle kisses across your thighs, his irises flushed baby pink with so much lust. He grunts into your blushing skin, glancing up at you to admire how fucking hot you look every now and again.
“Chris…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Fucking eat me out already…”
“Of course, Ma.”
He pulls your lace panties to the side slowly. Revealing your dripping wet pussy. “Fuck…” Chris moans as he drags his hand into his sweats.
“You have such a pretty wet pussy for me, Ma.” He whimpers on your clit as he touches himself underneath the stretcher. You become agitated at his slow pace and grab his hair and force his mouth onto you.
He grunts in surprise as he laps up at your juices. “Fuck yes, baby. J-just like that…” You speak into the air. You throw your head back as your back arches. Your moans and whimpers intoxicate the atmosphere and only do nothing but make Chris harder than he was before.
“You’re doing so good for me… If you keep this up I might cum soon.” You rebutt how good you feel just for Chris to hear. He moans a quick little “Mhm.” every single time you praise him. When he sucks on your clit, your legs lock and wrap around his head tightly. Keeping him in place.
He pulls away, suddenly. Your juices smothered all over his lips and chin. You raise your head to see Chris with his tongue out, turning on his vibrator piercing. As soon as he does, there’s a low hum sound.
He leans in and presses it against your hot pink clit. Your hips jolt up and your thighs shudder. “F-fuck! O-oh my god…” Your moans have become so rowdy that people from outside can hear. Like either you or Chris give a fuck.
He can’t help it. He loves it when you lose all control. He loves it when you let go. He grabs onto your thighs as an attempt to try and keep you still while he rubs the toy on your tight cunt.
“I-I’m so close..!” Chris’ tongue stays in the same motion as before. Your body still shaking and your eyes roll into the back of your skull with euphoria.
“I-I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum… C-cumming, c-cum-...” You feel your orgasm crawl up from the pits of your stomach to the furthest depths of your brain. The hold your thighs have around Chris’ head is incredibly tight, to the point where he can’t move.
Chris remains still as you ride out your high until you eventually calm down. He stands up fully and turns the vibrator off.
You gaze up at the ceiling, exhausted. Your head fuzzy and your chest rising and falling heavily from the amount of cum you released on Chris’ tongue.
The light you see is dimmed when Chris leans over you as he licks your juices off of his lips.
“How was it, Ma? ‘You enjoy it?” He beams down at you, you giggle at the way he’s talking because of the vibrator.
“You sound funny.” You sigh, he chuckles and leans down to peck a tender kiss on your forehead.
“I’ll take that as a yes then, sugar.”
“It felt so good.” You smile wholeheartedly up at him.
“I know it was, sugar. Sugar’s a fitting nickname for you, you know, your pussy tastes sweet, like sugar!”
“Oh, shut up. Otherwise I’m never coming here for that Christina.”
𓆩☥𓆪
Author’s Note no.2: YAYYY PART 2 FINALLY OUTTT. I’m so happy with this one honestly and I’m sorry it took forever to come outttt. I have another Matt one planned for y’all so stay tuned ;) I’ll see you later pookies.
༝༚༝༚, Maxine.
Taglist: @gamermattsgf @luverboychris @worldlxvlys @chrissystur @chaosisalwayscrying @bellasfavbisexual @luvmxtt @tillies33ssss @breeloveschris @mattdamunch @b2cute @stasiesturn @luvangelbreak @fmdmbaa
#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo#smut#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo
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Free Ride [2]
Jake Lockley x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •
Part 1 Here • Free Ride Masterlist •
Summary: You recognised Steven and Jake had no choice but to play along, and give in to some impulses of his own.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: I have not checked this over very well at all, I am so sorry.
Warnings: Jake being mistaken for Steven, dubious consent because reader thinks he's Steven, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, lube, mentions of a vibrator, Jake has a big dick, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 2841
Jake pushes you back into your flat, his lips on yours, licking into your mouth hungrily.
You stumble a little, but his strong hands keep you stable, pull you closer against him. He trails down to your jaw, your neck, nipping lightly at your skin before sucking hard on your pulse point.
A shiver runs up your spine, crawls at your throat. You gasp and clutch into him. “Steven, I-”
Jake growls softly, moving quickly and kissing you mercilessly. He nips lightly at your lip, not enough to cause damage but the sudden sensation makes you jump slightly and he smiles.
You pull back, just enough to see the expression. In that moment it’s so unlike Steven, not his usual beaming grin. His eyes don’t crinkle the same way, his-
Before another thought can form his lips are on yours again as he walks you backwards towards your bedroom, tugging your pyjama top over your head. He pauses once, barely moving his mouth from yours to sweetly ask your permission before continuing. Waiting with soft eyes for your clear confirmation and then kissing you breathless once more.
His fingers dig into your skin, squeezing every part he can reach.
As the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed he dips his head down, rolling the flat of his tongue against your left nipple. You bite your lip, trying to keep some semblance of control over yourself but can’t stop the small moan that escapes and fills the air.
Jake groans, latching onto your breast and sucking. Your fingers tangle in his hair, breathing rapidly as he flicks his tongue over the quickly hardening nub.
You arch into him, your hips bucking of their own accord as he pushes his knee between your legs as he moves to your other breast.
You whine, letting his warm hands roam your body and press firmly into your back, keeping you balanced as you lean into him.
He slides his left hand up, cradling the back of your head and then carefully urges you onto your back onto the mattress.
Should you stop him? You bite your lip. This was going head spinnngly fast. Sure you’d had a not so secret crush on him for ages, but-
He leans over you, pressing his body flush to yours and kisses you senseless, his tongue slipping into your mouth and drinking down every sound that slips past your lips.
The hard outline of his cock presses into your core through the stiff material of his jeans and any doubt just blinks out of your mind as the spark of pleasure runs up your spine.
He growls, low and soft in his throat as you move against him, pressing yourself more fully against the bulge in his trousers.
“Steven,” you moan.
He pulls back instantly, his lips pink and kiss swollen. For a second you think you’ve done something wrong, made the wrong move, but he stands back up quickly. Hooks his fingers under your waist band and drags it down, leaving you completely bare. You yelp a little at the speed of his movements, the dark look in his eyes makes your stomach drop and fill with anticipation.
Jake grabs your hips, his warm fingers digging in, just boarding on the possibility of being too hard, and flips you over with a surprising sudden show of strength.
You let out a small cry of surprise, barely having a moment to react as Jake raises you up by your hips so that you’re on your knees, face down, ass up.
Heat burns into your skin as he pushes your thighs apart, his thumbs on either side of your entrance and spreading your lips wide.
The sound of his groan of appreciation alleviates any self consciousness you could feel. Jake palms his cock roughly, squeezing the thick outline with one hand to get a hold of himself before he dives in.
He swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning again in appreciation as he laps at you.
The moan that leaves you is sinful. It would make another wave of embarrassment roll through your stomach if you weren’t already too far gone to care. You press your face into the covers, screwing them up in your fists as Jake licks annoyingly slowly, flicking his tongue against your clit before pulling up and just dipping into your entrance. Teasing with the very tip before starting the whole process all over again.
You squirm under his actions, simultaneously trying to escape and push closer to the pleasure of his mouth. He grabs hold of your hip with one firm hand, pulling you firmly against him.
“Hush bebé,” he mutters against you, barely moving far enough for his words to be heard. “Let me take care of you.”
You moan again and bury your head into your mattress, drooling on the duvet.
Pleasure boils along your skin, spiking down from your lower stomach with every warm swipe of his tongue. He groans at the taste of you, the small buzz of sound reverberating through you and vibrating against your already swollen clit.
A choked, “please,” escapes your lips and Jake chuckles.
“Begging already?”
You moan and nod. Your eyes screwed up tight, your hips rocking back and forth in time with him.
It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, and even longer since that you’d been with someone who seemed so eager to devour every part of you.
Jake pulls back for a second, biting lightly at the back of your upper thigh, before he sinks two thick fingers into your heat.
You gasp, whining at the sudden but welcome intrusion. Your legs shake at the stretch, your mind going blank for a second.
“Fuuuccck.” Jake hisses under his breath, mesmerised as he presses in to the second knuckle before pulling back again, marvelling at your slick in the light. “So tight bebé, hmm?” He groans as he pushes back in, revelling in how your walls clench around him, seem to suck him deeper despite the stretch. “Don’t think I’ll fit in here…” he gasps as he slowly eases out and back in, the ache in his cock maddening. “So tight… When’s the last time you got fucked by anything other than your fingers?”
A choked sob leaves your lips, your orgasm burning along every nerve ready to explode at any second. “Please,” you moan, “I’m, you’re gonna make me…”
Jake hisses in another breath, unable to resist the urge to push his fingers as deep as they can go and stroke your walls languidly, searching for the spot to make you see stars. His thumb presses against your clit, barely moving except for a steady alternating of pressure.
You cry out, your back arching, the pleasure so close you can taste it.
“That’s it,” Jake mutters, “oh, there?” He presses deeply, his strokes sure and firm and oh so slow. “That’s where it’s good?” He whispers, his breath skittering across your skin.
“Please!”
He bites back a groan, his eyebrows pinched together as you squeeze his fingers. “Gonna come? Gonna come just from me tasting you and touching you? And-”
You cry out as your orgasm crests and pulls you down under the wave, washing over every nerve, curling your toes and leaving you boneless.
Jake moans with you, leaning closer as he continues the torturous pace of his fingers and squeezes his cock through his jeans with his other hand, just about managing not to cum in his boxers.
You shudder, shiver as you come down and back to yourself. Jake slowly eases his fingers out of you, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth now that it’s over, not that-
Suddenly you turn, smiling at him and raising up onto your knees to wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him softly, sweetly, pressing your chest up against him.
He stiffens for a moment, the action unexpected before he returns the kiss.
He swallows as you pull back for a second, “we don’t have to d-” tumbles out of his mouth at the exact same moment as you say, “do you want to…?” You pause, giving him a slightly bashful smile. For some reason the fact that you’re naked while he’s fully clothed makes a little thread of anxiety tighten in your chest.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say in a bit of a rush, “if you want, I could just-”
He silences you with an urgent kiss, already, tugging at the helm of his shirt. “Please, let me fuck you.”
You shiver at his desperate growl, nodding rapidly as you unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.
Jake pulls his shirt over his head as you push his trousers down his thighs.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
“What?”
You bite your lip and shake your head as you laugh. “You weren’t joking.”
He raises an eyebrow in question.
“I don’t know if you’ll fit.”
Jake laughs and presses his lips to yours, “only one way to find out.”
You giggle as he litters your neck and chest with kisses, slowly easing you back down onto the bed before he stands again.
You lean up on your elbows and he tuts, swatting playfully at your arms as he kicks off his jeans and boxers completely. He grabs two pillows, tucking one carefully under your head and the other under your hips. You raise up as best you can to help.
As he bends down to grab his jeans from the floor you can’t help but admire how he moves, the soft skin of his back and the ripple of muscle underneath.
He pulls his wallet from his jeans.
“You got lube?” The offhandedness of the question catches you off guard for a second and you flounder before you can answer.
“Erm, yeah, in the drawer.”
He nods, taking something from his wallet before tossing it back to the floor. He puts the edge of the wrapper between his teeth and pulls with his right hand as he walks around and opens your bedside drawer.
Which is the exact second your brain decides to remind you what else is in the drawer along with the lube.
“Wait-”
Too late. He’s already opened it and obviously seen it.
Jake smiles as he looks up at you, practically a smirk and takes the wrapper out of his mouth. He holds up your vibrator. “Worried about me seeing this?”
You cover your face with your hands and laugh as you nod.
He grins. “Don’t worry, it’s size isn’t intimidating.” He looks it over for a second, “no wonder.”
“No wonder?”
“It’s barely thicker than one of my fingers, let alone two.”
You grab the pillow from under your head and pretend to throw it at him.
He laughs loudly, beaming at you as he places it back in your drawer. “Besides, I knew you had one anyway.”
You frown.
“The sound.”
“Huh?”
He points upwards. “Walls are pretty thin. Or ceilings, I guess.”
Embarrassment rushes along your bones, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he takes out the half full bottle of lube. For a second he scans the label before he walks back in front of you and kneels between your legs, hooking the back of your left knee over his shoulder.
“What are you-”
“Getting you ready.” He mutters as he gazes at your pussy. There’s a crinkle of foil as he puts the wrapper next to him and then a pop as he opens the lube bottle.
Jake warms the lube on his fingers for a second before he pushes three inside and flicks his tongue over your clit.
You suck in a breath, arching up towards him and screwing up your eyes as he continues his tortuous pace from before.
It’s a maddening tease. Slow and steady as he works you open and presses against your sweet spot before backing off again. Hitching you higher and higher.
He hums as you shake and buck against his touch, groans as you run your fingers through his hair.
“Please,” you moan.
“Hmm?” Jake barely moves away from you, too preoccupied in the feel of your skin against his.
“Please,” you swallow, your words spilling out in a lust filled haze, “please fuck me, please, Steven, I-”
He moves away from you quickly, and you whine, already lamenting the loss and trying to chase his fingers.
Jake grabs the condom wrapper and tears it open as he stands, hisses as he rolls it over his aching cock. A dark twist of emotion knots itself in his stomach, twists around his intestines and lungs, but he forces it down, down as he pushes your right thigh wide, the action boarding on painful, before quickly lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in.
You almost don’t recognise the sound that leaves your lips as your own, the gasp from deep in your chest as his hips snap against yours filling you completely. You can’t remember a time when you’ve felt so full before, when you’ve been so stretched and spread.
The sensation almost borders on pain, the thick weight of his cock straining you to your limit. But the thick tip of him brushes so wonderfully inside, his pubic bone rubs against your clit and all you can do is drown in the pleasure as he eases his hip back and forth a few times in long, languid strokes before he starts to fuck you in earnest.
He pounds into you, rocking you back onto the bed with every thrust and banging your headboard against the wall with enough force to chip the paint.
You whine low in your throat, barely able to get enough oxygen into your lungs as he pushes you higher and higher, forcing pleasure into your veins as though he was made to please you.
You grab hold of his arms, his neck, anything you can get a hold of and pull his mouth to yours, sliding your tongue past his lips and moaning as he rolls his hips, forcing all his energy on hitting that perfect spot just right.
Your high pitched gasps leave you with every thrust, your thighs tense and shake as you strive to meet him. That deep ball of pleasure tightening and tightening.
He groans low, kissing you for all his worth to stop the words that want to spill out from his tongue.
Jake knows he’s not going to last, not with the way you’re whining and begging and kissing him so desperately. Not with the way you squeeze him and urge him deeper, practically beseeching him to take and take and take and-
You pull your mouth back from his, your hands on his shoulder and in his hair. “S-” you stop yourself from saying his name, from causing that little flutter of a frown to cross his face, “sweetheart, please,” the moan that leaves you is practically pornagraphic as Jake’s hips stunner, his mouth opening in a little blushed gasp as you call him ‘sweetheart’.
“Fuck,” he groans low unable to stop the pleasure from barreling through his every cell, from lighting up every nerve. He fucks you through it, trying and failing to keep his eyes open to watch you. But he feels you tense, hears you moan as you come undone beneath him.
You come harder than you can ever remember, stars exploding behind your eyes as pleasure erases every thought for a blissfully moment.
He leans against you, burying his face into your neck and holding some of his weight off you with his arm.
You breathe heavily for a moment, both of your chests rising and falling in time with each other as you stroke his damp hair. Sweat cooling on both of your skin.
For a moment, you think he might have nodded off. His muscles go slack for a second, but he shudders and tenses again.
You smile and kiss his temple.
“Wait… what?” His voice is barely a whisper and… now that you hear it… very… Steven like. Which made no sense at all, because, well, it was always Steven, wasn’t it? Maybe you’d been too caught up and misheard, maybe when he was horny he put on a bit of a voice. You’d heard about that, when-
Steven tenses as sensations flow back into his body.
He sits up, or at least tries to, panic gripping his heart. What the fucking fuck fuck fuck has he slept walked into now?
Your arms around him stop him from bolting upright, but he still moves his head a handwidth away.
“Hey, you alright?” You say soothingly, his actions reminding you of someone jumping awake, “did you fall asleep for a second?”
Steven looks down at you, eyes wide. You, lovely, lovely you. Who he’d been trying to not so subtly flirt with for the past months. And now he was… oh… his softening cock twitches in your heat… very much closer than he’d realised.
____________________________________________
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Business Proposal || knj (9/?)
pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love
Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.
Rating: mature, 18+
w.c: 8.0
Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”
A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!
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10 Years Ago
Things were finally looking up.
“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off.
You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers.
Maybe things weren't really looking up.
“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up.
He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks.
Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final.
It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test.
The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.
You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse.
Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day.
“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called.
Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again.
In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook.
Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student.
“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months.
“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe.
“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you.
“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.
You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.”
Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee.
You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.”
Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.
“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.
Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink.
“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles.
You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.
Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship.
Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers.
He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break.
There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck.
During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years.
Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.
He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles.
You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.
“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles.
If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit.
“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in.
Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe.
You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side.
“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.”
You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea.
“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up.
Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–
“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance.
If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page.
Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?”
You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.”
“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.”
Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.”
“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page.
Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture.
Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes.
Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.
Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.
His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago.
You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not.
One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him.
When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure.
A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.
It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion.
It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up?
“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between.
Now you're more than positive that something is wrong.
You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders.
This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion.
A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room.
“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned.
With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.”
At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders.
“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest.
He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit.
His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you.
For what?
You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out.
“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin.
For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion.
When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point.
Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.”
Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.”
“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you.
He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling.
Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue.
He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet.
As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too.
With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.
You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?”
He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?”
The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him.
Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head.
He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.”
“I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.
“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?”
Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates.
Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him.
Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow.
He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.”
“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.
“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side.
You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end.
He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “
“Who?”
“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.
Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort.
Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space.
He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back.
He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years.
For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it.
Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now.
He cares.
In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has.
He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage? Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved?
So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other.
Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing.
He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same.
You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble.
You're his girlfriend now.
He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too.
“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one.
You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room.
He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him.
“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you.
His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one.
“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand.
He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.”
Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks.
You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.”
He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face.
It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.
Hoseok would always be the one who got away.
Your big “what if.”
Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love.
“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt.
“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures, his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder.
You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt.
The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste.
He could never wait. And he never did.
He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.
He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks.
“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine.
“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub.
You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment.
Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop.
“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment.
“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again.
You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows.
“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.”
You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees.
“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.
The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything.
Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest.
Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end.
“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him.
He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on.
“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.
He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.”
You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.
Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart.
“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”
You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.”
You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.”
You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?”
“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs.
“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt.
“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head.
“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room.
“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment.
You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy.
So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up.
“You’re late.”
Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses.
You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”
“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book.
You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds.
“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”
Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.”
Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book.
You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation.
It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list.
Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for?
“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look.
You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.”
“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book.
“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood.
“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.
“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”
Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.”
“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff.
Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?”
The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate.
“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.”
Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.”
If only it were that easy.
“I’d love to but he never has time.”
“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter.
“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–”
“No, I’m not busy now.”
You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.
All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous.
“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground.
You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.
“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you.
“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table.
You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying.
Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.”
You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.”
“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.”
“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.
The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public.
“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?”
Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder.
“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.” You add bitterly.
“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.”
You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.”
You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.”
He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.”
“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist.
His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”
You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table.
Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?”
“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”
Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?”
“No but it was basically implied.” You emphasize.
“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner.
“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket.
He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside.
Namjoon is happy.
His friends are happy.
Things in his life were finally looking up.
“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders.
You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side.
Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.
He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too.
a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!
#kdiarynet#bts fanfiction#bts imagines#bts smut#bts fics#bts scenarios#bts army#bts jhope#bts namjoon#bts angst#bts fluff#jhope smut#Namjoon x reader#jhope x reader#Namjoon fluff#Namjoon smut#Namjoon angst#hope angst#Namjoon fanfiction#Namjoon imagines#Namjoon fic#Kim namjoon#jung hoseok#Namjoon bts#j hope bts
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‘Tis officially prom season in the US and I’ve been thinking about how that would go for Steve and Eddie and their daughters.
Steve might have managed to use his chronic migraines to weasel his way out of trips to the mall for the girls’ entire lives, but he suddenly finds himself conveniently immune when the girls ask him to run point on their prom dress-shopping crusade.
In the end, the most difficult out of their three daughters was Moe by a mile. Over time, Steve had gathered that all the dressing up surrounding formal events was a rare source of insecurity for Moe. She managed to avoid her junior prom (even though Steve knew she wanted to go, and she’d moped around the house that entire night). When her senior prom rolled around, Eddie and Steve conspired with Moe’s best friend Gray to make sure that Moe actually went this time.
That was when Steve got roped into dress-shopping with Moe, which didn’t see a strong start to begin with and ended in a total meltdown on Moe’s part about how much she hates dresses.
“So don’t wear a dress!” Steve told her from outside the fitting room, “Moe – nothing about this is that serious. If you hate dresses, wear a suit. Wear your damn basketball uniform. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you go and you have fun or whatever. Gray really wants to go, and you and I both know that Gray isn’t gonna go if you don’t.”
Apparently, that was the right thing to say, and Moe ends up wearing something along the lines of this (the tie is Steve’s, the lapel pin on the pocket is one of Eddie’s).
Robbie surprised Steve by actually being excited about prom. She’s not usually into that kind of thing (especially when it’s school-sanctioned), but she’s got all of Eddie’s flair for dramatics so maybe it actually kind of makes sense. She went into dress-shopping with a vision (“I’m thinking Kate Winslet’s red dress in Titanic meets Bride of Frankenstein” which, frankly, Steve didn’t think was possible) but she’s Robbie, so she had enough blind determination to pull it off. It takes twenty-two grueling hours over the span of two weekends, but she pulls it off.
Imagine a combination of this and this and that’s what Robbie finds (she also says, “It’s kinda vintage, right?” which kills Steve a little bit because, sure, maybe it’s similar to Erica’s prom dress in ‘93 – but since the hell when were the nineties vintage?)
Out of the three, Hazel was the one who looked forward to prom the most, especially after watching her sisters get to go for years, and she’s also the “girliest” (objectively speaking) – she loves makeup and pretty things and dressing up nice, so she was over-the-moon when it was finally her turn.
Steve went into dress-shopping with Hazel prepared for a long and painful battle just like he’d done with the other two, but then Hazel ends up falling in love with one of the first dresses she tries on, and suddenly Steve is like, “Wait-wait-wait, that’s it??? It’s over”. He definitely doesn’t appreciate the wake-up call that his littlest girl is practically all grown up.
Hazel is also the only one who goes to both her junior prom and her senior prom. She wears something like this to her junior prom and this to her senior prom, and Steve is a total mess both times.
#eddie took offense to the girls wanting steve’s help and not his#moe: it’s not personal. pop just dresses way better than you#steve: You hear that ed. there’s now an official statement that i’ve got good taste.#robbie: she never said that. she said you dress better than dad but he sets the bar pretty low.#steddie#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson
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