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#cw strained friendships
ragmothy · 2 months
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couple goals
ngl i really want to re-watch my little pony again, its been like 3 years since i watched the original show, i should re-watch it later!
little quick artwork i made for the day!
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¨I say that is safe, Wooly¨
Danm this game was something...
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hazyhae · 6 months
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strawberry cough | njm
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strangers to fwb to lovers w/ plug!jaemin ft. bestie shotaro
summary: when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that and maybe even more.
pt. 2 here
wc: 9.1k 18+ mdni
cw: weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, protected/unprotected penetrative sex, oral, 69, shotgunning, soft dom!jaemin, some angst & misunderstandings, jealous reader and jaemin, comforting from jaemin, jaemin calls reader baby & angel, gn!afab!reader, he has a pull out couch, strawberry cough is an actual weed strain i recommend it :)
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shotaro calls your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“his name is jaemin and we have the same supplier, I’ll even ask him to give you a discount!”
your best friend was moving to another town across the country for work and you can’t help but tear up at the thought of being so far from the sweet boy. you met back in your teens and had been glued at the hip since.
somewhere over the course of your friendship, shotaro started to dabble in weed, teaching you almost everything you know about the substance and eventually becoming your plug and smoking buddy. with shotaro gone, it might be difficult finding someone who not only you can trust but also knows your weed needs like the back of their hand.
you blink at the new name, trying to remember what he was talking about, and recall something along the lines of finding you a new plug.
“i’d definitely recommend him, i’d say he’s second best to me in town, and i can trust him around you,” shotaro jokes with you, keeping it lighthearted.
you know behind the joking, your friend is doing his best to look out for you despite going through a stressful time himself. you don’t want to make this move any harder for him than it already is, so you agree with a smile.
“i’ll give him a chance, just give me his number and we’ll go from there.”
he meets your smile with his own.
“trust me, he’ll take good care of you.”
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a couple of weeks after shotaro’s move, you decide its finally time to text your potential new plug. after finding his contact buried in your messages, you text jaemin, setting up a meeting time to pick up some goods, planning on buying an eighth and some gummies.
surprisingly, he asks if you want to check out his strains when you get there, wanting you to actually see all he has to offer before buying.
his customer service impresses you, realizing that you just assumed he would be as casual as shotaro and any other plug you’ve gone to. most of the time they would just ask you what you want, give you your order, and you’d be on your way. seeing the whole collection would definitely be good if you plan to go to him long-term.
while you’re a little hesitant at the thought of entering his apartment, you feel better given how shotaro talked your ear off on how good jaemin was, both as a friend and fellow plug.
a 20-minute walk from your place leads you to the address he sent, and you triple-check your phone to make sure you’re at the right apartment. when you finally ring the doorbell, you hear some rushed footsteps and the door opens to a sight you were not expecting.
your eyes move up to see a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and one of the prettiest smiles you’ve ever seen.
“hi, you’re __? taro’s friend, right?”
you nod, exchanging introductions, and he gives you a tight handshake, not breaking eye contact.
“come on in! i’ve laid out everything so you can pick what you want. let me know if you have any questions.” he flashes another smile, and you can’t help but smile back at his welcoming attitude. besides shotaro, other plugs you have gone to never exchanged more than a few words with you, but they also didn’t have a smile like jaemin’s. actually, no one you’ve ever met had a smile like that.
you take a look around his apartment, noting how well kept it was, with minimal but tasteful decor. you were already a little nervous, but staring at the back of the attractive man leading you to his kitchen in his perfect apartment has your heart speeding up.
he shows you his collection, which you note to be on the same level as shotaro’s. you remember how your stash of your favorite strain ran out the week before, and knowing they have the same supplier, you look around his extensive collection for a familiar logo.
“do you have anymore strawberry cough? that’s my go-to.”
his expression falters slightly, but he recovers quickly and answers your question.
“i’m out of stock right now, but if you come back next week i should definitely have it in.”
nodding in understanding, you pick up a small pack of orange gummies, deciding on taking a break from smoking until your next visit. he packs up your gummies and leads you back to the entrance of his apartment, but when you reach into your bag to pull out your wallet he stops you.
“it’s on the house.” he insists, flashing you another one of his dazzling smiles. his smile makes it almost too hard to argue.
“oh no, i can’t do that to you,” you respond and resume your task of grabbing your wallet. you stop at the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder.
“let’s just say it’s a first time customer deal, okay?” his strong gaze stills you.
“it’s not every day I get a customer as cute as you,” he says with a grin and a look in his eyes you can’t quite figure out. it does a good job of shutting you up, and you feel your face heat up. the place where his hand meets your shoulder feels like it’s burning.
you don’t know how to respond and he chuckles at your flustered expression. he places the gummies in your hands, and opens the door for you.
“make sure you come back next week, i’ll be waiting for your text!” you nod and quietly respond with your thanks and goodbye as you walk out into the hallway. he waits until you’re at the elevator, waving to you as the elevator doors close.
immediately you’re clutching your burning face in your hands, and his words replay in your head until you go to sleep that night.
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while the interaction with your new plug lingers in your mind for a while, you are quick to try and dismiss jaemin’s flirting as his way of charming customers and nothing more. shotaro did say he would ask him to give you a discount, so maybe it’s safe to assume that freebie was a favor for your mutual friend.
the next week, you’re surprised to see a text from jaemin letting you know that your favorite was in stock. you had debated in your mind on when to text him, but it’s a pleasant surprise that he texted you first. you agree to come after work, and your second visit to him is not as nerve-wracking as the first, though his closing remarks from the first visit still ring in your brain.
you wave those thoughts off again as he meets you at the door.
“hello my strawberry cough lover!” he greets you happily.
lover. you freeze at the word. you pause for a few seconds, jaemin confused at your lack of response when you realize he’s referring to your love for the product. you totally missed that. he was not calling you his lover.
“hi jaemin,” you sheepishly reply, internally scolding yourself for those thoughts.
you expect him to collect your payment, give you your bag, and send you on your way. but something you’ve begun to learn in the short time you’ve known him is that he is always full of surprises.
he invites you in and you see your order sitting on his kitchen table. your eyebrow raises when he pulls out another bag of what you recognize as strawberry cough from the label.
“do you have any plans today?” he asks.
it’s about 6pm and your only plans included smoking the goods you would be getting from jaemin, so nothing’s booked. “i’m free, what’s up?”
“it’s actually been a while since i’ve smoked or sold this strain, so i wanted to ask if you’d want to smoke with me? it’ll be on the house of course, but you totally don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable” he actually looks a little nervous asking, which you find endearing.
“sure, sounds fun,” you agree, once again taking into consideration shotaro’s ramblings about jaemin. you would never pass up the opportunity for free weed with a potential new friend. friend.
he brightens, sitting you down on his living room sofa and running to get his smoking materials together.
“pipe or joint?” he asks. you reply with the latter and he gets to rolling.
you watch as he expertly grinds and packs the green leaves into the wrapping paper, licking the edge to seal it and pinching the end shut.
you can’t deny that it’s probably one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen a man do. you’ve seen many of your friends roll before, but something about the way jaemin uses his hands (and mouth) has you almost drooling.
he offers you the first hit, and you place the joint between your lips. he lights it as you inhale slightly, keeping his hand steady to catch any ash from falling on you.
while his earlier display had your body reacting, his gentlemanly behavior hit you right in the heart. you take two hits and hand it back to him, watching him take his own.
“how did you meet shotaro?” he asks, making conversation, and you are more than happy to explain how he accidentally hit you with a basketball during your second year of high school. you feel your body start to lighten and your mind fuzz.
“he couldn’t stop apologizing, going on and on about taking me to the hospital,” you’re trying to tell him through your giggles and before you know it, full laughter leaves you at the thought of your friend.
he looks at you with dazed eyes and a dopey smile, laughing along with you, starting to recount his own memories of your shared friend.
conversation seems to just flow naturally between the two of you. with each time the joint is passed back and forth, you learn another piece of information about the man in front if you, and vice versa. it’s comfortable.
at some point, you are both pretty settled into your highs, melted into the couch watching some random movie.
you look over at jaemin, and he looks more handsome and cozy than you remember a couple hours ago. he was within arms length, and if you wanted to, you could just reach over and-
“__, are you okay?” jaemin’s call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.
embarrassed by your staring and what just went through your head, you try to keep it as cool as possible, but you know that your thoughts are threatening to seep out.
“yeah, i’m good, just thinking of heading out soon since it’s getting pretty late,” you assure him. at this point, a few hours had passed since you arrived and it was safe to say you needed to go home and cool your head before you said or did anything you’d regret.
he nods in understanding and tells you he will be right back. you’re not too sure what he’s up to, but he comes back quickly wearing a hoodie and helps you to your feet with a gentle hand. he picks up your order from the kitchen, and walking to the front door he grabs his keys and starts to put his shoes on.
“are you heading somewhere, too?” you ask, and he looks at you blankly.
“i’m walking you home?” he states as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. you told him somewhere along the line that you lived close by, but you didn’t expect this.
“jaemin, you don’t have to, it’s only 20 minutes,” you try to assure him.
you know that it isn’t the safest to walk by yourself at this time of the night, but you don’t want to trouble him.
“i do have to, and i want to.” you know he’s really made his mind up, seeing his serious expression, so you give up any further argument at his response.
your thoughts tell you he’s just being a good friend, but your heart hopes its something more.
the two of you walk back in a comfortable silence, jaemin with your order in hand. he walks you to the front of your apartment building, handing you your bag once you arrive.
“i had a lot of fun today, hope we can do this again sometime,” he says with that same look he had when he gave you your first freebies.
“same here, i think that would be really nice,” you respond, internally celebrating that he enjoyed your time together just as much as you did.
his normal dopey grin comes back at that, and he bids you a good night, waiting until you are inside your building to start his walk home.
only when you get back to your room do you realize you forgot to pay him.
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over the next few months, you find that jaemin never lets you pay. he’s officially become your plug and smoking buddy. you never stop protesting and offering to pay, but in that time you’ve also gotten to know how stubborn he is.
“friends get free shit.” he shrugs, as if it’s just common sense.
friends. the word stings a bit. you’ve come to learn that his charms extended so far beyond what was offered to customers. so much so that you’ve come to want more than friendship.
but again, you also don’t want to ruin what you’ve got growing and make him uncomfortable. this has to be a platonic experience for him, right?
that’s what you tell yourself, keeping your hopes at bay. you don’t want to risk anything.
on a particularly stressful work day, you come to pick up your usual order when he notices something is off. he frowns seeing you so tired and noticeably upset, immediately leading you inside with his hand gently resting on your back.
“what’s wrong?” he asks feeling your forehead for any sign of a fever. you’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with him over your time together, closing your eyes at his touch.
“nothing, just a tough day at work,” you murmur, just wanting to get your order and go home to lie in bed. a harsh argument with your manager today left you feeling frustration bubbling in your throat with no way to let it out.
“i know something that might help?” he offers. he brings you straight to your usual spot on the couch, and goes to the kitchen, returning with a familiar decorated bag.
“you didn’t,” gasping as he starts to lay its contents out on the table.
the bag included your go to order from your favorite fast food place, complete with a strawberry smoothie.
“i didn’t expect that it would be a perfect day to do this, but i’m glad i did.”
your eyes start to sting.
his kindness is coming at a moment you needed it most. he’s always been kind, and that has not changed at all since the day you met him. tears start to fall.
“wait, did i mess up your order??” his eyebrows furrow and he starts to get up, scanning the food on the table.
you shake your head, grabbing his arm to pull him back into sitting.
“no, just thank you, thank you so much jaemin.” you’re trying to compose yourself, but the same warm hand you’ve come to know and love starts to rub circles into your shoulder, making you cry more.
you lean into him, letting yourself let go of your frustrations of the day. jaemin encourages you to talk, wrapping his arm completely around you and whispering sweet affirmations in response to your worries.
after what feels like forever passes by, you find yourself relaxed in his arms with his head resting on yours.
“thank you and i’m sorry jaemin, i know that was a lot,” you say as you turn your head to look at him, realizing how close the two of you were.
he leans back, still with an arm around you. “i’m gonna pretend i only heard that first part. you’re never too much and you don’t have to be sorry about letting your emotions out. not with me.”
you really don’t understand how he’s telling you exactly what you need to hear.
at this point, the feeling slowly blooming over the past few months has really has made itself clearer than ever to you.
you like him. you like him so much.
you whisper your thanks again, and he shushes you, with his eyes moving down to your lips.
“you’re welcome, now let’s smoke a little?” he asks quietly, and you nod, figuring you would appreciate the relaxation of your body and hopefully, your heart as well.
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jaemin lets you use his facewash and a towel to freshen yourself up after crying, and has a pipe freshly packed for when you come back.
after your usual passing back and forth, you’re melted into the couch watching tv yet again. jaemin has his arm wrapped around you just similar to how he did at your earlier cry session, but this time his hand is around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly.
you don’t mind at all, pressed into his side as you both watch a cute cat cartoon. you look up at him, staring at his lips as thoughts start to sprout. you’ve noticed his obsession with wearing lip balm, and it’s really paid off. they look so soft and you can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like against yours.
he doesn’t lean away this time when he notices your gaze, looking into your eyes with his own hooded ones. you don’t know if it’s the weed giving your thoughts life, but your voice is leaving you before you know it.
“can i kiss you?”
you gasp after realizing what you’ve said, moving to get up, but his arm wraps tighter around you, stopping you from separating yourself from him. staring down at you with lidded eyes, he closes the distance between the two of you.
his lips are even softer than anything you’ve imagined.
his pecks turn into full kisses, and it’s only a matter of time before things turn more heated, jaemin slipping in his tongue to meet yours. the two of you kiss for what feels like forever, getting lost in the haze.
your mouth chases his as he starts to pull back, and he smiles against your lips. he fully pulls back look at you, and leans in to pepper soft kisses on your neck.
“you are toooo cute.” he mumbles against your neck, and his warm breath gives you goosebumps.
“do you want me?” he asks, and you are speechless. you’ve been wanting him, thinking of him while sober and not so sober. you’ve dreamed about this, yet now that he’s offering himself on a silver platter all you can do is nod. he slightly tightens his hold on your waist.
“words, baby.”
your embarrassed face presses into the top of his head as he continues to lay kisses down your throat. you can only hope that this is not just a really, really good dream.
“i want you, jaemin. so bad.”
immediately you are pushed onto your back on the couch, jaemin’s lips back on yours and your hands threading through his hair.
he slots himself in between your legs, grinding into you slowly as your hips jump up to meet his. he begins to kiss a trail from your throat down to your stomach, his warm hands finding their way under your shirt and sweatpants to meet your bare hips.
“can i take these off?” he punctuates his question with a snap of your waistband.
“please,” you reply, feeling yourself begin to ache, but suddenly jaemin remembers something.
you look at him confused as he gets up, reaching around to two handles at the bottom of the couch. he pulls the handles, and you are met with a whole new couch section.
“you’re telling me it was a pull-out couch this whole time??” you complain. your nights with him were comfortable, but the extra couch space to sprawl out changes everything.
“hey, it’s usually just me on this couch and i have more than enough room, so i kinda just forgot okay?” he pouts as he returns to his task, pulling your sweatpants off of you.
you start to laugh until you feel his warm breath on your underwear. the sight of him looking at you from between your legs is something straight out of a wet dream, and you’re pleading.
“please jaemin..”
“please what, angel?”
you clench at the new nickname. you crave nothing more than for him to bury himself between your legs.
“please touch me.”
he pushes your underwear aside, and dives right in. you gasp at the feeling, feeling the wind knocked out of you as your hands immediately meet his head.
he groans at the feeling of you alternating between pushing his head deeper and tugging at his hair. the vibrations send chills down your spine, and your moans increase in volume as he lays sloppy kisses over your bud, eventually sucking it between his soft lips.
if you thought his lips felt heavenly on yours earlier, his lips on your most intimate parts takes it to a higher dimension. at some point, he slips your underwear completely off, getting right back into action.
he doesn’t let up, slipping his middle and ring fingers into your entrance, slowly thrusting in and out.
you feel the tension build in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter until a curl of his fingers sends you over the edge with a strangled moan. he works you through your orgasm, laying a final kiss before making his way back up your body at the feeling of your hands pushing his head away from your core.
“are you okay, angel?” you look at his smiling face, his beautiful lips covered in a wet sheen. if this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up. something hard and hot at your thigh snaps you out of your admiration.
“i’m perfect, jaem, but how about you?” you ask as you catch your breath, shifting your thigh against his bulge.
this catches him off guard and a deep groan leaves him. it’s music to your ears and you want to hear it again and again.
“let me ride you jaemin. please,” you present the idea to him and he brightens up, only to pull a worried expression.
“are you sure it’s okay? do you have enough energy?” he’s still the same jaemin you’ve come to appreciate, always wanting you to be comfortable. you just want to make him feel good, too.
“of course jaemin, i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to.” the worried expression leaves at your words as he takes off his pants and underwear. you pause as he reaches under the couch and pulls out a condom that he rolls onto his aching member.
“is there any other surprises this couch has?” you ask jokingly.
he laughs and he helps you up into straddling him as he leans against the back of the couch.
you grind on him as he softly pecks at your neck, feeling the vibrations of his low groans on your skin. you raise yourself and begin to lower yourself onto him, hissing at the stretch of his cock inching into your entrance.
“fuck, so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out inch by inch, helping by pushing his hips up to meet yours. you moan at the feeling, with no one you’ve ever hooked up with being as thick as jaemin.
you bounce slowly, and you build a steady rhythm as you shut your eyes at the almost euphoric feeling. the combination of his cock reaching far deep into you and the weed coursing through your system has your entire body tingling. you open your eyes to peek at jaemin, who looks to be going through the same thing.
his brows are furrowed, and he’s letting out delicious groans with each bounce. he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours, and like magnets your lips meet.
“you feel so good, angel, so fucking good,” he murmurs against your lips. his hands move from your hips to your ass and he plants his feet into the couch.
a harsh thrust has you clinging onto him for dear life as he starts to piston into you, chasing your highs.
the two of your moans fill his living room as he speeds up, hitting you deeper and deeper until you’re reaching another mind numbing orgasm. your pulsing sends jaemin over the edge, and he pulls out, pulling the condom off to finish himself over his own stomach.
you plop onto your side, too tired to hold yourself up as you detach yourself from jaemin. you feel the weight of the couch shift and start to drift off until jaemin shakes you gently.
“sleep over? you can borrow some clothes and we can finish that movie.” you’re way too tired to think about going home and don’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon, so you’re quick to mutter a sleepy “okay.”
he gives you a hoodie and some pajama pants, and he goes back to his room to change his own clothes.
coming back to the sight of you in his hoodie, jaemin smiles to himself before sliding in with you to retire for the night.
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you are surprised to see that first night did not sour your growing friendship at all. movie nights and order pickups still continued, but the two of you fall into a different kind of routine. weed was slowly pushed from the center relationship. yes, he would have you over to smoke you out, but more and more you find that you get lost in conversation or a show before you can even take one puff.
either way, half the time you ended up finding yourself under him, or him under you. afterwards he lets you sleep over or walks you home after a short nap, depending on the time and if you have work.
while you’re glad nothing got awkward, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment from your growing desire to be more to him. to have more of him. all of him.
it always was some combination of talking, eating, smoking, sleeping, or fucking with jaemin, but the two of you never talked about what your relationship was. you’ve become comfortable with your arrangement, being willing to put aside the pangs in your chest to continue these nights with him.
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“he got you, didn’t he..” shotaro teases over the video call, catching up on the past few months since his move. he zeroed in on the numerous times you mentioned his recommended plug, knowing the charming nature of his friend.
“why are you saying that like you knew it would happen??” you bite back at his teasing, and he quickly clarifies.
“no, no, i was genuinely just introducing him to you as a plug, but i’ve known the dude for a while. he’s a great host, a great friend and overall, he’s a reeaaally great guy. if something happens, i approve.”
he’s echoing a similar jaemin spiel to the ones he went on before you met the man, but you can’t help but agree now that you know him just as well.
“i know, i know, but let’s talk about something other than jaemin.” you haven’t talked to taro in a while, and you didn’t want to spend your whole call recalling how well jaemin’s treated you. the more you think about it, feelings of uncertainty in the nature of your relationship also follow.
“okay, well anyways, i’ve been into this really cool new strain. they call it strawberry shortcake and it’s just crazy, you need to try it.” before you can respond, taro cuts in.
“you might need to get it somewhere else, though, let me see if another of my buddies around there has it.” you haven’t gone to any other plugs since you met jaemin, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to start now.
“don’t you think i can just get it from jaemin? he’d probably want to try.” he gives you a perplexed stare in response.
“i don’t think so, jaemin hates strawberries. i’m surprised that hasn’t come up at all?” the news from taro leaves you shocked.
you recall how jaemin didn’t have your beloved strawberry cough in stock when you first met him, but since then he’s never ran out. he could have just said from the beginning that he doesn’t carry it in stock.
was he buying it just for you? is he smoking what you like even if he doesn’t? if he is, what does that mean? the thoughts threaten to send your mind spiraling.
you try to push them aside to continue your chat.
once you finish your conversation with your friend and head to bed, you fight against a hopeful little voice in your head telling you that jaemin might just feel the same way as you.
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the next day, you initiate plans with jaemin, wanting to finish up a show the two of you started. he lets you know you can come over that evening after some customers leave, assuring you they won’t take long.
you head over to his place, heading up the elevator. you’ve never seen any of jaemin’s neighbors before, so you’re surprised when the doors open to a gorgeous girl. her hair is a slight mess, but she works it.
she offers a polite “excuse me” before going into the elevator to head down. as you pass her, you get a whiff of something very familiar.
fresh herbs, florals, and something.. sweet? you ponder on the scent on the short walk down the hall to jaemin’s. he opens the door with the same smile as always, and leads you inside when you smell it.
the same scent you smelled at the elevator.
strawberry cough.
“did you get started without me?” you try to keep a light hearted tone, trying to pry as much as you can without giving your suspicisons away.
“just a bit, a customer came by earlier and wanted to try out some of my stash, but they didn’t want to smoke alone so i had a hit or two.” he smiles innocently. your eyes move to the tv to see the show you were planning to watch already playing on the screen. your heart sinks.
jaemin is a really good guy. he’s so special to you and you feel like slowly but surely you’ve become just as special to him.
when you sit down, you ask him to put on a different movie, wanting to continue the show another time. you can’t seem to focus and the joint passed to you tastes a little more bitter than usual. your thoughts fester.
jaemin is a really good guy, but he is good to everyone. he’s so special to you, but you’re not sure anymore if you have even began to brush the surface of being anything more than a good friend.
even if you’re sleeping together, you weren’t exclusive, and it’s not like you’re the only one he watches shows with or his only smoking buddy, either.
neither of you ever moved to define what went on between you two, and that little voice from last night is telling you now that maybe there just wasn’t anything in need of defining in the first place.
you finish the movie with minimal conversation and ask him to walk you home, citing your change in demeanor to a long, tiring day.
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wanting to sort out your feelings, you decide you need a break from your regular visits, but 1 week of excuses and avoiding his invitations quickly turns into 3.
“shit.” you check your weed jar to find your strawberry cough stash running dangerously low. gnawing at your lip, you still can’t find it in you to reach out to jaemin, even if its just as a customer.
you’ve wanted to go back every time he’s invited you, but since the day you concluded that nothing actually special was going on between you two, you don’t know if you can act normal. you don’t know if you could lay under him, looking into his deep brown eyes and not tell him you are probably madly in love with him.
you needed some time to cool your feelings off. you’d be back after you sort it out, and everything would hopefully go back to the way it was.
you head to work and put your thoughts aside for now, actually grateful that there’s a line of customers to keep your mind busy. when it slows down a bit, you see a familiar face of a boy with rose gold hair.
yangyang was a friend you met through shotaro, seeing him in a lot of blunt rotations you’ve been in at shotaro’s functions.
“hey, yangyang! how are you?” you ask cheerily.
he’a quick to return your greeting, always being a pretty chill person to see even if you don’t know each other too well.
“not too bad, just running some errands. heading to my plug later, how are you?”
a lightbulb turns on in your head at his plans. the answer to your dilemma has arrived.
“better now, could i ask you a favor actually?”
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
jaemin hears his doorbell ring, but he’s slow to get the door. he knows it’s not you, so what’s the rush? he grabs his customer’s order from his kitchen table and heads over.
even though he knows it isn’t you, a part of him wishes it was. he hasn’t seen you in 3 weeks, and it’s driving him crazy. you’ve just rejected another invitation to finish up that show you started, and he’s lost count now of how many times that’s happened.
he knows you’re busy, but he can also sense that something is off. he’s been scouring his memories for anything he could have done to upset you for the past week or so, but he can’t come up with anything.
he tries to assure himself that it’s just a schedule thing, nothing personal. he’s gotten used to your smoking habits, and he knows you’ll be running low soon.
it’s only a matter of time until you need to come see him, right? he can only hope that you want to.
he opens his door to see yangyang, one of his regular customers. he’s expecting a quick transaction, not really in the mood for small talk.
“hey yangyang, everything’s here.” jaemin hands yangyang the bag.
“hey, thanks. really quick though, can i add on an eighth of strawberry cough if you have any?” yangyang asks.
“i might, you trying something new?” jaemin responds, interest piqued at the familiar strain.
“nah, picking up some for a friend,” yangyang responds. jaemin’s eyes narrow slightly.
yangyang usually gets the same few things in rotation every time, but he’s never once asked for strawberry cough. jaemin wouldn’t think anything of it usually, but he’s a little sensitive at the mention of your favorite.
“oh, do i know them? maybe a potential new customer?” jaemin tries to disguise his prying as a new opportunity for him as a plug, but he’s just hoping the bad feeling in his gut isn’t true.
“it’s for my friend ___, they asked me to pick some up. do you know them?” his heart drops at the mention of your name.
jaemin goes silent for a second.
“..gotcha, i think i’m actually out right now but i’ll let you know when i have some back in stock.” jaemin lies, knowing he has a couple bags left, but there’s a bitter feeling making his stomach turn.
yangyang shrugs and says he’ll let you know, and then he’s on his way.
shutting the door with a heavy sigh, he goes to lay on his couch, which he’s had in its full pulled out state since the first night you slept together.
he remembers your dazed, glossy eyes, soft lips, and the way you lean into him. he remembers the way you look when he’s got you pressed into his cushions.
he hasn’t heard your voice in so long, the sweet sound of your laugh. he misses you.
jaemin picks up his phone.
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when you get his call, you’re lying in bed already. it’s 7pm on a friday night, and you are spending it moping around instead of going out with your friends.
you miss jaemin, his apartment, his smile, the way he’d spoil you in so many ways, everything. you’d rather be laying on that couch right now, but you know you shouldn’t.
it’s just as you start to push jaemin out of your brain that your phone starts ringing with that familiar caller id. his picture pops up, a cute one you took of him in his bedroom after a smoke sesh awhile back.
caught off guard, you end up picking it up right away, and the voice you’ve missed so badly sends waves through the speakers.
“hi, angel, are you free this weekend?”
that nickname with his deep voice is already undoing any “cooling off” you’ve done in the time apart from him.
“i’m not sure yet, what’s up?“ your voice comes out clear despite your nerves.
“i know you’ve been busy, but i thought you might be running a little low on your stash, can i come by to drop some off?” he offers.
your first instinct is to make up an excuse because you honestly aren’t prepared to see him, but you feel like you’ve made enough excuses by now. you’ve missed the sound of his voice and hearing it over the phone is your breaking point.
as much as you’ve tried to push aside your growing feelings, it’s only fair to both you and him if you finally lay down your boundaries.
“actually jaem, if you’re still free tonight, can we finish that show?”
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even though he insisted on picking you up, you decide you need the 20 minute walk to jaemin’s to calm yourself. your head is full of so many “what if’s,” and in no time you find yourself in front of his building. you see a familiar head of dark hair standing outside.
“there you are, angel,” he says as soon as you are in his sight, and he brings you into a tight hug. you immediately relax into his hold, not realizing how much your body missed his familiar touch.
“i-“ you start, but he shushes you.
“it’s cold out here, let’s go upstairs.”
he takes you up to his apartment, and you’re happy to see it’s still as comfy as you remember. he’s got the heater on, and it feels good on your cold face. he seats you on his couch as he always has, rubbing your arms up and down to get rid of the last bit of outside chill.
“what have you been up to? it’s been so long since i’ve seen your face, baby.”
while it isn’t new for him to be this cuddly, it’s usually later into your nights together. you remind yourself your intention for tonight, and you decide you need to get this over with.
you separate yourself from him, putting some space between you.
“i’ve been okay, jaem. but i came because i really need to talk to you.” he waits for you to continue, anxiety growing at your somber expression.
“i don’t think i’ll be able to come around anymore.”
jaemin frowns deeply. “i mean, it’s already been a while since you were over, even if you’re busy i don’t mind waiting, it’s no pressure at all?”
“no, i don’t mean that. i just don’t think i can stay in this sort of relationship with you anymore.” you are dancing around what you want to say, but it’s just so hard to get it out.
his heart sinks.
“because there’s someone else around?” you jump at jaemin’s voice, which has lowered at your words.
“what?”
he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. it’s the first time you’ve seen him this distressed.
“jaemin, where is that coming from??” he says nothing, and it seems like he’s also having a hard time figuring out what to say.
“look jaem, this isn’t on you or anyone else. i’m grateful for all you do for me, you’re a really good friend and i love the time we spend together.” you bring yourself to look him in the eye.
“but i feel like i’ve started to rely on you too much, to expect and want more. it’s a lot, too much even. i don’t want to get my hopes up about anything, so i need to back off a bit.”
“hopes up?” jaemin looks at you with an unreadable expression. “what do you mean by that?” his own hopes start to rise.
you look down at your hands, debating on what to say. but you owe him the truth, even if it changes things between the two of you. honesty and time could save the platonic bond, even if it severs any hope of a romantic one.
“i like you jaem, i like you a lot and i don’t think i can be just friends with you, at least for right now.”
the silence following your confession is deafening.
he calls your name gently, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
“___, my angel.” he repeats.
he takes your hand gently in his, and your eyes move from your hands to see him smiling wider than you’ve ever seen.
he closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply. his warm soft lips fit perfectly with yours and you melt into him, your hands threading through his hair. he kisses you like a starved man, and he pulls you closer and tighter.
you’re breathless when he pulls away after a while, his lips red and starting to swell.
“you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to hear that.” his eyes are piercing through you.
“i like you, too, and i don’t want to just be your friend. i’m sorry you had to say it first.” you want to cry hearing his confession, but instead wrap your arms around his neck and bring him back into a heated kiss.
you have to be dreaming. you’ve only thought about putting a stop to your feelings for jaemin for almost a month now, but the feeling of this man being in your arms knowing he feels the same way now is so surreal.
jaemin pushes you gently to rest on your back, his hand moving down as his lips stay glued to yours. he feels the same way. he likes you.
“angel, let me take care of you, please.” jaemin’s gaze holds so much intensity.
“i’m yours, jaemin.”
hearing that, he dives right back into your lips with a fervor even greater than earlier, his hands tugging at your pants and underwear to remove them.
he’s always been so intentional with his touches, always seeming to know the perfect way to touch you. your words, however, activate a desperation of wanting to feel more of you and it translates into his rushed, almost clumsy hands.
he cups your heat with one hand as the other sneaks under your shirt to knead at your chest.
you are getting wetter by the second, and jaemin pushes one finger into you. your lips leave his as you moan loudly at the intrusion, and his head moves down to meet his hand at your core.
“jaemin, wait.” he pauses.
“i want you to feel good, too.” jaemin chuckles.
“don’t mind me baby, there’s no greater pleasure for me than making you feel good.”
his words have you wanting to press his skillful mouth onto you as soon as possible, but you stop yourself. “let’s do it together then.”
his eyes almost bulge out of his head at the idea, and the idea goes straight to his cock. he can already feel himself pulsing with need.
“69?? you are too fucking good to me, angel.” and immediately he has you flipped over, with your heat hovering over his face and his cock in your hands.
he starts to lick at you, straining his neck up while you get to work taking him into your mouth. you get into a good rhythm, feeling his groans on your core.
you feel him smile as he harshly tugs your hips down onto his face. you gasp, trying go back into hovering. jaemin’s strong hold doesn’t let you move.
“don’t hover, sit on my face, please.” he goes in again on you, alternating between slurping loudly and swiping his tongue all over.
your legs give out at this and he lets out a deep groan at the feeling of you pressed into him. you give a hard suck on his tip and take him back into your mouth. the vibration from your moans has him seeing stars.
“oh my god,” he mumbles into your core. he separates himself from you for a moment.
“baby, baby stop, sit up, angel.” he pulls you off of him.
“that pretty mouth feels too good, gonna cum too soon,” he pants. “i’ve got you, just sit pretty and leave it to me okay?”
you want to keep going, but jaemin’s back at your entrance like a madman, pulling you to sit on him completely again. his tongue reaches deep into you. he’s moving your hips back and forth, and his chin digs into your bud.
the sudden onslaught of pleasure is too much, and he has you cumming on his face with a loud cry. he helps you ride through your orgasm and you detach yourself from him as he catches his breath.
when he rises, he moves to pull a box from under the couch, but you stop him.
“no, no, please just give it to me, i want to feel all of you.” he looks at you concerned.
“i’m on the pill and i haven’t slept with anyone else since we started fucking, so please just do it.”
his heart is absolutely swooning at your pleading for his dick and your revelation that you’ve been his since the beginning. he stations himself between your legs.
“you’ve got it, baby, you’re my only one, too.” with that, he inserts himself into you, his tip beginning that delicious stretch.
it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and jaemin takes his time inch by inch despite wanting nothing more than to ram into you in one go.
“you’re mine, angel, i like you so much and i want you all for myself.”
he groans as he bottoms out, letting you adjust to him, but he can feel himself throbbing inside of you.
“please move, jaemin, i need it so bad.” he’s more than happy to oblige, starting to speed up his thrusts gradually until he’s fully thrusting in and out.
he reaches so fully deep into you, and he pulls out all the way to his tip before snapping his hips into you again.
“you’re so perfect. my angel, my baby, my ___.” he’s whispering sugary sweet words into your ear, and that in combination with his thrusts make your head start to float as your eyes roll back. this feeling is better than any high weed could give you.
“jaemin, jaemin, jaemin,” your cries of his name only encourage him to go faster, hit deeper. his hand presses into your lower stomach, and his fingers rub circles into your bud.
“cum for me, you can do it, just let go.” and you do just that, your back arching off the couch. jaemin pulls out and immediately plunges his fingers back into you to ride out your orgasm.
at this point, his cock is leaking, desperate and throbbing with the need to cum, but he wants you in one more way tonight.
he flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and teasing your slit with the head of his cock. he plunges back in with a deep groan and begins fucking into you.
your head is clouded from your orgasms and the feeling of overstimulation, and you almost dont feel him reach for something. you hear the clicking of a lighter.
looking behind you, you see jaemin lighting a pipe, all while fucking into you still. he takes a deep inhale, holding it in before blowing it out away from you.
if you had this view on video, you’d be able to get off to it anytime, anywhere. you clench around him tightly as you see him blow out the smoke. your eyes are glued to him.
he notices your gaze. “do you want some, pretty baby?”
you nod hurriedly, turning your head back front as his thrusts push you up the couch. he takes another hit.
a strong hand reaches around to pull you so that your back is pressed against his front. he turns your face to him as he blows smoke into your open mouth. you clench even tighter, and he closes the distance and kisses you sloppily. the smoke is seeping out past both of your mouths, filling the room.
“you’re mine. i’m yours, only yours.” he growls into your ear.
he fucks into you, holding you around your mid section with both of you on your knees. he lets go to hold onto your hips and you slump back onto the couch, unable to hold yourself up. he speeds up, thrusts turning sloppier by the second.
“f-fuck, angel. i’m so close. let me fill you up, i’ll give it to you so good.”
you clench at the promises he’s moaning out loud and he gets closer and closer to his peak. his thrusts are all over the place, desperate to finish as you lock your ankles around his to start rocking your hips back onto his.
“could treat you ten times better than anyone else. no one else for me. you’re the only one i’d ever want or need, only you.”
his sugary words are spilling out and the feeling is all too much as his hips stutter, cumming inside you with a deep, strangled groan. you milk him dry as he empties himself into you, toppling over to lie next to you.
the two of you lie side by side, trying to catch your breath, and he pulls you close to him.
you are emotionally and physically exhausted, but jaemin gets up after a few minutes, coming back with a towel and hoodie.
he cleans you up and helps you to your feet to use the restroom.
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when you settle back into the couch after getting ready for bed, he puts on your show as you cuddle into his side. everything feels so familiar, yet so different without the feelings of uncertainty. you look up at him.
“when were you going to tell me you hated strawberries?” your question catches him off guard.
“who said that??” he chuckles nervously, but he knows he’s been caught and there’s no arguing.
“no seriously, you didn’t have to force yourself or buy that strawberry cough just for me.” you do feel a little bad that he was, even if it was his own free will.
he pauses.
“i just needed something to keep you coming back, aside from my pull out couch of course,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. but his words hold truth.
“you should’ve known a month in that you didn’t need strawberry cough to keep me coming back,” you let out a little laugh at how cute he was being.
“imagine the betrayal i felt knowing that you were going to someone else for it though??”
you look at him confused. gears click in your brain when you remember the rose-haired friend you'd talked to earlier that day.
“oh, you know yangyang?” it makes sense given jaemin, shotaro, and yangyang share many mutual friends.
“yes i know the asshole. gonna monopolize it so you don’t ever cheat on me again.” he pouts.
“yes, yes, boyfriends get official exclusive plug rights,” you joke. “as long as you’re not smoking my strawberry cough with anyone else.”
“i won’t even sell it to anyone anymore, it’s reserved for my angel only. and boyfriend?” he smiles and kisses you gently. “i like the sound of that.”
after a few more kisses, you turn your attention back to the show, but jaemin pulls his pipe back out.
“does that mean we can smoke something not strawberry flavored tonight?” he asks, looking relieved.
you laugh and give him the OK, and he’s more than happy to pull out a whole array of different strains he’s been wanting to try with you. you sweat at the variety, but you know you have more than enough time to try them all now that you’re sure he’s yours, and you’re his.
end.
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if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! this is my first full length fic and i hope to write more in the future <3 i hope u enjoyed! shares and feedback are appreciated -coco :)
3K notes · View notes
kechiwrites · 7 months
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totally platonic
johnny "soap" mactavish x best friend!reader kinktober countdown, day three (recording)
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synopsis: soap helps you give your ex something real to worry about. 🎥
wc: 1.6k
cw: recording / making a sex tape, revenge, allusions to potential cheating (emotional?), fem + afab!reader, anal play, fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of cunnilingus
author's note: my first forray into soap, for the anon who asked for soap helping reader get revenge...like a million years ago.
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“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name. 
“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length. 
Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.
You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities. 
Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour. 
It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces. 
Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.
What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.
Fucking the way you are right now.
He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect. 
Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick. 
He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.
And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?
“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.
Or loves you.
You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,
“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.
Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”
“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.
“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”
Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.
“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.
He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.
Or maybe that was just you.
Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.
"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.
Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?
"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.
Either's as likely.
When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing. 
Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return. 
“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording. 
“Give it here.” 
You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other. 
Leo had hated it.
“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?” 
“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows. 
“Then we’d best get started.”
Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.
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god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.
support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.
find the rest of the masterlist here.
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moondirti · 19 days
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cw: dubcon humping. gn reader. he’s just a little pent up guys.
gaz is absolutely the type to squeeze you into a hug that lasts a bit too long.
idk, maybe you’re his best friend or something. someone he instantly clicked with at uni and who’s stuck around despite everyone else in his life falling away like pastry crumbs. devotion that isn’t romantic nor entirely platonic in a sense, but a secret third thing that has you inviting him to stay the night when he returns home and his flat is too far a drive for someone so tired.
you greet him at your door when he arrives. he’s bulkier than when he left for deployment, fills up the arms of his t-shirt and the thighs of his pants. smells like sweat and the faint traces of his cologne (Y by yves saint laurent. you’d gotten it for his birthday.) so sexy you might as well abandon your propriety and slip a hand down the course hairs of his happy trail. but you don’t. instead, you go in for one of your patented this-isn’t-more-than-a-friendship half hugs.
which he does not take. as your one arm hooks around his neck, both of his wrap around your waist and force you to embrace him fully. it’s crushing. so tight you have to lift your head to breathe properly. he lifts you off your feet and sways you back and forth as he whispers little complaints; things about stubborn CO’s or unnecessary bloodshed. you allow it because it sounds like he needs it, this small comfort.
except it verges on longer than a few seconds. longer than proper for a pair of good uni friends. his hand kneads the flesh of your back, and his hips grind against your groin. is he hard, or is that a gun he has yet to unarm? you can’t tell, but it seems to work for him when the hard mass in his jeans catches the canyon of yours. he groans quietly, stuttered, as his thrusts gain pace. as he tightens himself like a cobra around its prey. as he plants his lips onto your neck and starts inhaling the scent of your freshly washed skin.
“…kyle?” you whisper, awkward hands flailing about behind him. your voice comes out in a strained way, vocal chords crushed against his shoulder.
“jus… give- fuck. give me a moment, mate.”
so you do. it doesn’t last much longer after that, anyway. his grinding grows brutal, knocks the little air left out of your lungs. it hurts to a degree. he’s hitting the tendon between your leg and crotch – and you’re sure it’ll be tender in the upcoming days – but you don’t voice your troubles to the man around you, who unravels at such a startling pace you know he’s too far gone to pay proper attention regardless. how else would he be bold enough to grope the plush curve of your ass? two hands latch onto it like dough, anchoring you up so the angle hits just right.
and then he starts to get sloppy. his rhythm loses pace. his stance widens and he fucking whines into your ear as a wet spot spreads across the front of his pants. you’re so dizzy that, when he lets go of you, you have to hold onto his forearm to steady yourself, blinking owlishly at the grin that stretches across his face. as if he didn’t just hump you and cream in his clothes. why are you the one caught off guard?
“thanks for that.” he winks, then pets the flyaways off your temple.
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konigsblog · 18 days
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nerd!könig watching bimbo!reader have sex. 💄👛
; könig can't help but stalk you, jerking off to the sight of you having sex with your popular boyfriend.
tw/cw; non-con voyeurism, depravity, perv!könig. minors will be blocked.
photo credit: x_bruisedpeach_x on x/twitter.
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könig had his eye on you for a while. he's a pervert, it's known by most that he's disgusting and depraved, pushy and desperate to lose his virginity. he's in his early twenties, attending college, with his perverted gaze landing on the dumb, little bimbo in the corner. könig finds your stupidity almost laughable, desperate to be put in a group with you for teamwork just so he can mock and taunt you.
although he wasn't aware of one thing—you have a boyfriend. he's distraught at the news. könig jerks off every night fantasising about you, daydreaming about you and your future together, and to hear this devastating news? he's fucking pissed. könig will constantly try to manipulate you into believing that your boyfriend isn't good for you, lying about him cheating on you, with the hopes that you'll break up.
könig was supposed to come over to your dorm to study together. he'd noticed how you'd been falling behind and struggling, offering to come over and help you. one thing he wasn't expecting was to finally meet your boyfriend, cracking the door open enough to peek through, watching you get fucked aggressively.
god, his cock strained and throbbed inside of his boxers. his breathing quickened and all the blood rushed to his cock suddenly. könig's dick ached, pulsing inside of the tight confines of his underwear, unfastening his belt quickly to jerk himself off. he sucked in a sharp, deep breath as he began stroking himself, listening to the sounds of your moaning and whining.
könig was envious. he should've been the one fucking your brains out, fucking you stupid. he threw his head back and grunted quietly, his girthy cock aching at his firm, tight grasp. each drag and stroke drove könig closer to his release, with pearly and milky drops of his release drooling from the head of his veiny shaft. the veins on könig's dick were prominent, his fingernails brushing over them slightly leaving könig a mess, jerking himself off sloppily, wishing to be in your boyfriend's place.
he was ridiculously jealous of your boyfriend, extremely possessive over you despite not being in a relationship, barely even in a friendship. he couldn't bear to watch any longer, closing his eyes as he finally came, shooting white strings of his release all over himself, staining the jeans he wore.
he'd be humiliated if he was ever caught, deciding to message you that he wasn't feeling great as an excuse, his cock achingly hard all night at the image of you getting fucked engraved into his mind.
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dumplingsfordays · 1 month
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the phone call
pairing - Megumi x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge
note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33
art credit!
and as always, thank you for reading :))
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-
Bzzt. Bzzt.
The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.
"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."
Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"
"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."
God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.
"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."
You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-
He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.
God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!
...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.
"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."
"Yeah?"
He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.
"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"
"Ah, no, I'm just..."
Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.
"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."
There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.
"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."
He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"
"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."
You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?
"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."
"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."
His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.
"I'd... I'd love to."
He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.
"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."
You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.
"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."
Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.
"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"
Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--
"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"
He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.
"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"
"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."
You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.
"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."
"What?"
His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.
"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."
"Can we..."
Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.
"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."
"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.
"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.
You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.
"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.
You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.
"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."
You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?
"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."
"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."
His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"
You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.
As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.
"This was... ah, certainly something..."
You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.
"Indeed it was."
"...But we're still going on that date, right?"
Megumi laughs. "Obviously."
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chimielie · 1 year
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girlfriend
summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.
word count: 2.4k
cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none
a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333
You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.
You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.
They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.
The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.
It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.
"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.
It was a perfect first kiss.
In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.
When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.
As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.
He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.
It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.
One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.
He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.
"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.
"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.
You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.
Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.
"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.
"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?
You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?
You cry when you see him again.
"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.
Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.
"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"
You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:
"No."
Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."
"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."
You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.
"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"
"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."
"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"
"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."
"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.
"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."
"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.
"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."
He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.
"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"
"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.
"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.
"What? That's not what I said."
"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."
"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."
"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."
"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."
You shake your head. "I believe you."
"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.
"Yes, really."
"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."
"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."
"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."
"You're the worst, you know that?"
"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."
"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"
He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."
"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.
"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."
"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"
"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"
"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."
"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."
"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.
"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"
You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.
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Note
AITA for sharing audio (no visuals) of my roommate having sex with online friends?
CW for Sexual content
I (18x) have a roommate (19f) who tends to have.. a lot of sex. She genuinely thinks I don't know, because every time I've tried to confront her about it or ask her to maybe at least warn me so I could leave the apartment, she denies it and says she's only ever done it when I'm not there. This is obviously a lie.
A few days ago, I frankly got sick of it and decided to record the sound of it from my room. There's no visuals obviously because 1 we have different rooms and 2 it's usually late night/early morning so even if we shared a room it'd be pitch black. It was stupidly loud. Despite the fact that my phone has a bad mic, it was very clearly able to pick up the sound of her getting railed to hell and back. The bed creaking, her moaning like crazy, him dirty talking- everything. They were ridiculously loud and had woken me up because of it, which was why I snapped and decided to record it in the first place. It was around 4-5 am when this happened.
I shared the video with some online friends, people who don't know and most likely will never know my roommate on any sort of level other than what they hear about her through me- I don't even say her name, just refer to her as my roommate. No names are said in the audio, and the bed creaking is so loud that you can't really distinguish their voices from just any other straight couple banging. That is to say, there is such a degree of separation that I didn't see it as too big of a deal to share.
Despite this, one friend of mine said that it was incredibly messed up to share the audio regardless of the fact that they will never be able to use it against her, saying it was an invasion of her privacy and whatnot. Another friend piped up and said it wasn't too big of a deal and named some of the reasoning from above. This hasn't been a friendship-ending argument, but it definitely caused a bit of a strain on the group for the past few days, and I'm conflicted. I've since deleted the video both from the server I posted it in as well as my phone, since I didn't want to take any chances in case it was genuinely a horrible thing to do, but again, I'm really not sure. Am I the asshole?
TL;DR My roommate has really loud sex that wakes me up around 4-5 am and I record the audio of it, sending it to a server full of people who will never know her or be able to use it against her in order to rant. Some friends think that it was a horrible violence of privacy, but others think the degrees of separation were enough to not make it bad. AITA for recording and sending it to the server?
What are these acronyms?
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charliewrites99 · 13 days
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If this show was made in early 2010s, a clearly gay Edwin and an almost as clearly bi Charles would be feeling the strain in their friendship because they both fell in love with Crystal and are now competing for her affection only for Niko to turn up to be Edwin's love interest which would make Crystal jealous even though she never expressed liking Edwin turning her into the fandom villian.
Jenny is also there but she dies in 6 episodes for the crime of being a lesbian on CW.
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 8 months
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[9:13 pm] 
(cw: jaehyun drinks a beer)
Anyone looking looking at Jaehyun right now could tell he was angry. Heck, anyone with eyes would be able to simply glance at him and tell that they should steer clear of him. His jaw was clenched, his dentist probably wouldn’t be happy about the strain he was putting on his jaw, and his eyes were locked on you. You and the man who had been talking and laughing a little too much. Too much smiling, too much laughing, keeping you from Jaehyun for too long. You were only supposed to go to the bathroom then get a drink but now you’d been gone for over 10 minutes, most of that time spent with the bartender.
Jaehyun would argue he wasn’t a jealous person. He didn’t mind that you went out, other guys talked to you, that you had guy friends, because you always came back to him. You always reassured him, easing his hidden insecurities, that he was the only guy for you. But it was different now watching you laugh and look like you had no intention of leaving the bar anytime soon. You peeked a look back at Jaehyun, quickly turning and laughing along with the bartender.
The waiter came back by the table asking if everything this was still fine. Jaehyun replied coldly, eyes still locked on you that everything was fine. He tried to pull his eyes away from you, stabbing the food entirely too dramatically to distract himself from the view of you flirting a few feet away from him.
You finally said bye to the bartender, Jaehyun could tell because you wiggled your fingers flirtily before being called back by the bartender to collect a napkin that he had quickly scribbled on. His number no doubt. Jaehyun scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Here’s your beer,” you smiled, placing the bottle in front of Jaehyun as you plopped into your seat.
“I didn’t realize the bar was so busy,” Jaehyun replied nonchalantly.
“Oh, it wasn’t. The bartender was so funny and we got sidetracked,” you smile as you cut into your food. Jaehyun sends you a look asking you to elaborate, so you do. “Well, he was telling me that he really liked my shirt and that his roommate would like the shirt since their birthday is coming up so I told him about some stores that have some similar clothes. Then he started telling me some funny stories-”
“Yeah, he looked hilarious.”
“He was! He seemed really cool,” you hum before taking a bite of your food.
Jaehyun felt the annoyance and anger ease a little bit, you had come back to him but you were gushing over another guy to your boyfriend. How did that make any sense to you? Were you withholding information on purpose? Did you like the bartender that much that you had to hide it from Jaehyun? What did the bartender have that Jaehyun didn’t?
“So what, you like him now? He gave you his number didn’t he?” Jaehyun decides to bite the bullet and ask.
You reply calmly, “Well he very clearly told me he thinks that he and I could be good friends so the number was for friendship only because,” you try to fight back a smile, “he wanted to know if my friend at the table was single.”
Jaehyun chokes on his sip of beer, hitting his chest as he coughs to clear his airway. He still manages to choke out a “What?”
“He spent most of the time gushing over my friend and his silky looking hair and his cute dimples and his hot outfit. He asked me to pass along his number in case you might be interested,” you explained.
Jaehyun was bright red now, embarrassed from having made the assumption of you flirting with another guy, red from his lack of air, red from the indirect flirting.
“So?” You question, lightly kicking his foot.
“Why would I take another person’s number? I’m your boyfriend!” Jaehyun whisper yells.
You shrug, “I don’t know, he seems really cool and he gets off soon if you want to go and chat with him.”
“Stop trying to set me up with other people while we’re on a date! We’ve been together for three years!”
“Well you seem to think I go out to restaurants and try to pick people up on dates anyway, not sure if you’d be interested in that. Like maybe you were projecting,” you continue too casually.
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “you were looking back at me and laughing, then he scribbled something on a napkin and gave it to you. What was I supposed to think?”
“That I was making friends. I’m a cool person, people want to be friends with me, I make friends everywhere I go,” you reply.
“Of course I believe that, you’re a very cool person. I just get in my head sometimes,” Jaehyun replies quietly.
“Oh my love, I know, you get too lost in that big head too often,” you coo, reaching for his hand across the table.
“Uncalled for.” Jaehyun deadpans.
“So are you going to call him? I think you’re like way his type,” you ask teasingly.
“I’m not paying for dinner anymore and you’re sleeping on the couch,” Jaehyun tells you.
You laugh, shaking your head and narrowing your eyes at Jaehyun, “You couldn’t last an hour in bed without me.” And Jaehyun would hate to admit that you’re right.
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inkyquince · 2 months
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Thinking about being fwb with the older gen when they were younger.
cw. uhhhh. not much. implied rough sex, a mind break on eden's side, neglect of emotional stuff but some is implied, stalker-y obsessive harper, remy get the idea to start the underground farm from you and general friends with benefits stuff.
characters. bailey. eden. harper. briar. remy.
For Bailey, its a need to release stress, and you just happen to be the one person in the friendship group he could stand enough to not just spend extra time with, but spend it bending you over the back of his bed frame and railing you, all the while you can hear giggling from behind the door. He doesn't give a shit, he knows that the walls are thin in the orphanage, but this isn't for you. If you happen to cum, then, hey, it makes you tighten up around his cock and makes his own orgasm just a bit better. Don't think so much about how he offers you a smoke afterwards, when he refuses to even share his sacred, battered packet of ciggies with Eden. Don't start thinking he's soft. But maybe you should feel grateful that when you message for him to come over, he actually replies to you. Most of the others get ignored.
For Eden, it started out as pity. Probably the last of the group to loose his virginity, with Bailey snarking that he knows for a fact that Eden spends most of his time at night jerking his cock. He's just too intimidating for anyone at school to give him a chance, and the boys in the locker room have noticed how fucking fat his cock is anyway. There was a betting pool to see how long until he snapped. So what if it was pity. So what if his gaze thrilled you as you slowly took off your shirt in front of him, slowly unbuttoning as his grip on his knees tightened, his knuckles whitening. So what if by the time you tucked your thumbs into your underwear, his erection was straining against his jeans. It started as pity, for your friend to finally loose his v-card, and went on to Eden ripping at your clothes every time you two were alone, wrestling your body down onto his fat cock, bullying your hole, your friendship grated down into veiled attention around the others, and desperate rutting each second you two were alone.
It was obvious that Harper had wanted this for so long. Everyone could tell that the freak had such a crush on you. Always so attentive, popping up at your elbow, wanting to carry your books, saying you smelt nice that day, that he'll help tutor you, asking you if you want to go with him for ice cream after class. But you had to give credit where it's due, he was smart. Just one bad break up, and his selfless offerings of helping you feel better. That's all it took for him to take his rightful place between your thighs, getting to enjoy your needy riding, your kisses, the way you'd clench around his fingers when the dipped into your underwear during class. He encourages you to use him, use him, use him all you want, for stress relief, for any kinks you want to try. He likes it all, as long as he gets to touch you.
Briar just likes sex. He fucking loves it. In the future, he might tire of it, and just enjoy the delicacies of life paid for by bought sex, but not yet. You know you're just one of a rotation, but it feels different... At least to you. Sharing a group of friends, one night getting too drunk, and suddenly his tongue is dragging against your hole, being told you to squeal all you like, maybe someone from the party will hear you and come to see what's happening. Then Briar messaging you to come to him from then on. He likes watching you hump his cock, introducing you to the amass of sex toys he has, sharing a double ended dildo while he tortures your nipples with bites and harsh sucks. He makes no secret of his other conquests, people he also enjoys having sex with, but there's something about being the only one that can lean against him at a group hang out, his thumb rubbing small circles into your thigh, as the others argue on how to split the bill.
It starts with Remy just wanting it out of the way. Everything in his life is planned out meticulously, and once he hits 19, he quietly registers that most people his age are loosing their virginity, consenting or not. He will inherit the estate in his late twenties, he'll graduate from university early, and he'll make his mark on the town like his family has done for generations, with the riding school, with the investments. He'll find something that's uniquely him. But in the meantime, he'll hit the average amount of milestones that his peers do. You just happened to be the least objectionable to loose his virginity to. Between you and Wren, you're the one that'll be nice and submissive and let him enjoy himself however he likes, without some boneheaded suggestion of doing something stupid. So, he gets to take you to the estate, to fuck you on a bed more expensive than anything you could ever afford again. It's good. He likes it. But one day, in the fields with the others, overlooking some rinky dink farm with a family of red heads trying to make it nice, you do something. He's eating an apple, leaning against a tree, with you sitting by his feet with Wren's head in your lap, letting you braid his already too long hair. There's a crunch. He looks down and you cheekily took a bite out of the apple, smiling up at him. It itches his brain just right. He extends it to your mouth and watches as you laugh and take another bite. You become more of a pet from then on. Eating out of his hand, getting fucked in the ass, with a stirring fixation rousing in his stomach when he thinks back on how sweet you looked, eating his apple. Almost like one of the cows on the farm down below.
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thisapplepielife · 5 months
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
That First Terrible Step
Prompt Day 18: Free Space (Hurt/Comfort) | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Injury | Tags: Post-S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Physical Therapy, Recovery, Pre-Steddie, Building Friendship, Caring Steve, Eddie POV
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Eddie is too tired to deal with any of this today. Physical therapy takes too much out of him and he doesn't feel like he's making any goddamn progress, anyway. 
He flops his head back against the pillow and closes his eyes. His leg hurts, and it doesn't want to cooperate, not with that much muscle loss. The bats took a big enough chunk, that he's having to learn to walk again with this new body.
Losing that much thigh muscle isn't exactly ideal, he quickly learned. It had gotten infected with what they called Necrotizing Fasciitis, and it was a particularly stubborn strain they'd never seen before, so they didn't know how to treat it effectively. So they kept cutting, whittling away, trying to save him.
Trying to save his leg. 
They succeeded, but now he needs to learn to walk all over again, missing part of what made it easy, before.
Steve had it, too. On both his sides, and the hospital was baffled at what they had been exposed to, together. 
Despite Robin's fretting, it wasn't rabies. The hospital decided it was from bacteria growing in Lover's Lake, and they went with it. They didn't really have any other choice, they couldn't exactly tell the truth about the fucking bats.
The kids visit. Robin, Nancy. His bandmates. They all come in shifts, and switch out with Uncle Wayne and sit with Eddie, to keep him sane. Motivated.
Steve. 
Steve's here more hours a day than he's gone. 
He recovered, his sides eventually healed, and he was released. 
But he hasn't gone far. Steve pulled him out of the Upside Down, and now he's determined to pull him out of this rehab center.
"I'm too cold to walk," Eddie says, stalling.
Steve takes off his yellow sweater, and pulls it over Eddie's head.
"Arms," Steve demands, and Eddie raises them. "There, now you can walk."
Steve never lets him get out of it, no matter what he tries.
He doesn't want to take steps that are excruciating. Trying to use muscles that just aren't there, not anymore. His therapist stands beside him, as Steve stands in front. 
Steve's walking backwards through the parallel bars with ease, as Eddie hangs onto them for dear life, each step a fight.
"That's good, that's really good," Steve says, and Eddie knows it's not. It's not good at all, but he's trying.
Steve counts him down. 
"Four more steps," Steve says, and it helps. 
"Three," Steve updates him, as he forces his leg to move.
Step two isn't as bad, that leg still works.
"One more," Steve says, and Eddie gathers up his strength, and takes it. Foot coming down through the pain.
"That's good, you did it faster today," Steve says, helping Eddie back into his wheelchair.
The therapist is there, leading the whole process, but they learned weeks ago that Steve was better at getting Eddie to work than they were, so they've utilized Steve, liberally. Day after day, Steve has helped him take that first terrible step, and all the painful ones that have followed.
That he's even in this facility is thanks to Steve. They released Eddie from the hospital once his wounds had healed, but he was unable to walk. 
He couldn't afford this kind of therapy, no way, but Steve made it happen. Eddie doesn't know how much it's costing, Steve won't tell him. Just that he needs to do it so he'll get back on his feet.
And Eddie wants that. 
All his wounds healed, in various levels of terrible. His face, his neck, his nipple. The defensive wounds on his hands had gotten infected, thankfully less so than his leg, but it had scared him so fucking bad that he wouldn't be able to play the guitar again. But he can, and expects it'll get better with time.
Steve brought in Dragon Slayer, Eddie's acoustic guitar. And Eddie sits and plays him for hours, rebuilding that strength.
The rest of the time, Steve is here, forcing him to use his damaged leg, as often as the therapist will allow, for as long as Eddie can stand it. 
Steve says they're getting him home next month. 
Eddie sees no proof of that, but if Steve says it, it's probably true. 
That's something Eddie's learned over these past few months. Steve has a gift to fix problems, to dig in and make change. 
He'd had no idea.
He's a good dude, that Steve Harrington.
And now he's arriving with food, a pizza box balanced on one hand and a brown bag in the other.
"Dinner is served," Steve says, sliding the little wheeled table over Eddie's lap, putting the box down. 
"Smells good, man, thanks," Eddie says, and he opens the box to see what they have. Supreme, his favorite. 
Steve pulls up a chair, and unloads the sack, bringing out cans of pop, and a stack of napkins. 
Eddie's already eating, but Steve is picking the black olives off his piece, first. Eddie's told him a dozen times to just order it without, but Eddie likes them, so they keep getting it the same way. 
Every Friday night is pizza night.
Mondays they get takeout from Enzo's. Big containers of pasta and breadsticks.
Tuesday is burger night. 
On Wednesdays, Steve drives twenty minutes to the Mexican joint Eddie loves, and brings back big platters of food, and sacks of greasy chips and homemade salsa.
Thursdays are a wildcard, and Eddie is always curious what he'll turn up with next. Soup. Sandwiches. Fish. It could be anything, and it gives Eddie something to think about besides his pain.
Steve spends every night hanging out in his room, keeping him company. He's dragged in a VCR, and they are quickly burning through the entire stock of tapes at Family Video. Debating what makes a good movie. Why sometimes bad ones are the best.
And Eddie feels normal for a few hours, because Steve makes sure of it.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
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sinnful-darling · 6 months
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Hello, hope you're having a good day/night
I love the yan zombie can we have more ❤️
im so glad you liked them! and im having a good day, i hope you are as well.
cws : post-mutation yan! zombie, slight gore mention but it’s just the reader panicking about being eaten, was fucking around with some new writing ideas aka trying to sound more sophisticated pls forgive me if it sounds like ass
you watch with horror as the zombie’s flesh begins to mend itself — just what the hell was happening? you’d figured they had a different strain, but for it to mutate again? their eyes dart to you, a smile that seems too wide begins to split their cheeks. their skin stretches and becomes taut, sharpened canines glinting in the candlelight.
they take one step, two steps, three steps, stopping in front of your restrained form. you flinch as they reach out to you, bloodied fingertips feeling featherlight as they lift your chin. “hm…”
your mind is racing. what do they plan to do? are they going to eat you? are they going to sink their teeth into your flesh and tear meat from the bone? surely, with how sharp their incisors look they would have no issue.
“please,” you swallow thickly. “don’t hurt me.”
their smile drops. “hurt you? oh little mate, i would never hurt you.”
they stroke your hair, the action is unsettling rather than comforting as they’d hoped for. their hand feels heavy, cold. you notice that something seems to be pulsing beneath the skin of their throat. “not unless you tried to leave me, at least. but you wouldn’t leave me… right?”
you quickly shake your head, missing the thinly veiled desperation in their tone. “good, good. i knew i made the right choice in taking you as my mate.”
they stand suddenly, leaving the room; you hear rustling, then a crash — a string of curses following. they bound back into the room, a giddy look in their eyes. “i got you this!”
they push a book into your hands. it was a book you’d been rambling about during the early days of your friendship — back when you were looking for ways to leave. you’d come to like the zombie though, so you’d decided to stay. they definitely increased your chances of survival by far.
“thank you.” you force a smile, your senses picking up a new scent. “what’s that smell?”
their eyes light up. “d’ya like it? it’s my pheromones — or, well, i think it is?” they sheepishly scratch their cheek, accidentally injuring themself. the flesh is quick to mend. you gulp.
“it’s nice. smells good.” you open your book, missing the way they shudder with delight, tongue darting out to wet their lips.
soon, they think. soon i’ll set my plan into action.
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thornsnvultures · 7 months
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anywhere || eddie munson x plus size!reader
cw: angst, talking about drug usage, eddie's in the hospital post-vecna, your mom kinda fuckin sucks, best friend!eddie who likes you more than you realize
a/n: that one line in the muppet babies theme song fucks me up every time. literally every time I hear it I tear up. so thanks for that jim henson.
-----
"When your world looks kinda weird and you wish you weren't there," Eddie's terrible Kermit impression makes you laugh so hard you almost spill the bowl of cereal you're pouring. You hit him back with your equally terrible baby Miss Piggy voice.
"Just close your eyes and make believe that you could be anywhere!"
Eddie snorts at the way your voice cracks trying to hit notes your voice was not made to hit.
"Shut up, that was flawless and you know it," you hand Eddie his bowl with a grin and plop down on the couch next to him. Were you watching cartoons made for children? Yes, but who didn't love Kermit the Frog and his adorable little muppet friends?
You missed this, being here with Eddie. A lot had changed since you started going to college last year while Eddie stayed behind to be a senior for a third time, but not this. Your friendship never changed. It was something you treasured coming home to, when you could. School was starting to pile up and these visits were becoming few and far between, but Eddie would always be your Eddie. You were sure of it.
"So you're leading up Hellfire now, huh?," you asked Eddie as you finished your cereal. He took your bowl and put it on the coffee table with his, not meeting your eyes. Maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. The two of you didn't talk about it much, him still being in school. Like you didn't want to break the spell that everything was normal. The two of you hanging out like normal, like you did since you were kids. It was comfortable, you didn't want to ruin that.
"Yeah the, uh...yeah. It's up to me now I guess. The guys know they can't compete with my campaigns."
He's smiling, all cocky because it's true, they're always amazing. But his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Weren't your just saying nothing had changed? Maybe you a lot had changed and you just weren't paying attention.
"I miss adventuring with you," you sigh, snuggling into Eddie's side until he puts his arm over your shoulder. "And the guys."
"Yeah, they miss you too," Eddie's voice sounds strained. You try to move thinking you're laying on him in a weird way, but he just pulls you closer, tighter.
You spend the rest of the morning watching cartoons. Eventually you forget the weird tension, putting it aside to enjoy your day with your best friend before you have to leave again.
-----
It's a year before you see Eddie again.
School was tough, taking up so much of your free time you barely saw anyone besides the librarian and the two people you shared a dorm room with. You had tried to join a DnD club at school but your schedule didn't line up well with the rest of the group. And it wasn't the same. You missed Eddie's energy, his frantic dramatics. The guys were cool but sticklers for rules and, to put it nicely, boring.
You couldn't take being away from home any longer, you missed your friend.
So when your mom called one Friday afternoon and told you, in her own bizarre and nonchalant way, that Eddie had been in some trouble recently and, "I'm sure you saw the news about the earthquakes," you came straight home.
"You know, I always thought he was a nice boy. Did you know he was selling... grass," your mom whispered the last word like police officers would be knocking down her door if she spoke too loud.
"I didn't." You did. You also partook, but your mother didn't need to know that.
"Anyway, everyone got all upset when that little cheerleader died, but when they found him, like that, I guess they thought he was a victim too. Can't maul yourself like that, that's for sure."
"Oh my god, mom," you stand up, your chair harshly scraping against the linoleum. You can't sit here and listen to this any more.
"Where are you going? I have a pie in the oven."
Your mom follows you to the door, huffing like you're the one being ridiculous. She never liked Eddie much but the ease with which she talks about your childhood best friend being... mauled...
"I'll be back later."
You don't wait for her to respond, slamming the door as you go. You hop in the hand-me-down car your dad gave you before you left for school, peeling down the drive and heading straight for the hospital like you should've done when you got back. Tears cloud the edges of your vision until they spill over, you don't bother wiping them away.
-----
"Hey, you're Eddie's girl."
"Excuse me?"
A short, curly haired boy in a baseball cap appears next to you when you ask the receptionist where Eddie's room is located.
"It's okay, Brenda. She's with me." You snort out a laugh when the boy tips his hat to the woman behind the desk. Her smile and the wave of her hand tells you she is in fact used to this.
"I'm Dustin," the kid explains as you follow him through the maze of hallways and elevators. "Eddie's told me a lot about you. Recognized you from the picture he thinks I don't know about in his glove box. Not my fault he just shoves stuff in there. If he didn't want everything to spill out he should organize. Not that I'm great at organizing either-"
"I'm sorry," you stop Dustin's rambling, your head spinning from all that information, narrowing in on the one that stuck. "He keeps my picture in his van?"
"Yeah a few in his room too. He's just down here. You just missed the guys, Jeff had to go to work and he was their ride so they left. Wayne will be in later. He usually stops by after work."
Dustin kept talking and you tried to keep up but the closer you got to Eddie's room the more your ears rang and your chest felt tight. You knew it was bad, he'd been in for a few days and was still heavily sedated after a number of surgeries. Wayne told you the day before you came back on the phone that he might not be awake when you got here. The old man might've been trying to spare you the trip, but you were coming to see him no matter what. You should've come back a long time ago.
Standing outside his room now, the year you were away felt like an eternity now. How had your Eddie changed? Was he your Eddie anymore? Was he ever yours?
"Hey, you comin' in? He's still sleeping."
Steeling yourself with one deep breath, you enter Eddie's room. With one look at Eddie and you're asking Dustin for a minute alone, pulling up a chair by his side.
"Sorry I'm late, Eddie. Traffic coming out of the city is crazy." You laugh at your stupid joke because you'll cry if you do anything else. You don't think about the air tube in his nose or the beeping heart monitor, the bandages on his arms or how hollow, how fragile he looks.
"My mom said you've been selling 'grass'," you chuckle as you twist one of his curls around your finger. "Should I tell her how many times I snuck out to smoke with you? She's already mad at me for taking time off from school to be here."
Eddie lays there as you talk, sleeping softly as you compliment the cards and flowers on the window sill. You tell him how the past two semesters of school have been, how miserable you've been without him, how guilty you've felt for "missing" his calls, not reading his letters because you've been too exhausted to do anything that wasn't surviving and work.
You're holding his weirdly ring-less fingers, contemplating leaving instead of holding out hope that he'll wake up while you're here, when you hear a familiar theme song on the television.
"When your world looks kind of weird,"
Your gaze falls from the TV to your friend in his hospital bed.
"And you wish you weren't there,"
Your eyes close wishing you were back in Eddie's house, stoned out of your mind doing muppet impressions.
A tear falls down your cheek as you close your eyes and sing along with Miss Piggy, not caring how ridiculous you sound.
"Just close your eyes and make believe and you can be anywhere."
You choke on a sob, suddenly angry at this stupid kids show for making you lose it when you were holding yourself together so well.
"Still sounds awful."
You open your eyes, wiping your tears away with your hand not in Eddie's at the groggy sound of his voice. He's holding the other one tight, almost too tight, like you'll run if he lets go.
"That was a perfect impression," the words stutter on a heaving breath but you're smiling through it.
"I'm on so many drugs."
"I'll go get the nurse," you laugh, trying to pull yourself together.
"No," Eddie just barely tugs on your hand, not yet strong enough to pull you close. "Don't leave."
"I'm not, I won't. I'm here, Eddie. I'm sorry."
Eddie's eyes flutter shut, too tired yet for a full conversation, but he won't let your hand go. You find the call button next to the bed to call the nurse and wait.
"I'm not going anywhere."
---
--
-
🖤
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ciaonicole85 · 17 days
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ESCAPING INTO A SHIP
So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?
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It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.
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S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.
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Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.
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Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.
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I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.
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The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!
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Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.
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Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.
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Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.
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