Tumpik
#me just trying to find a nice little community to talk at every now and then about this one hyper fixation
beyondspaceandstars · a year ago
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That Black Tee
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingers, slight metal arm kink, sex against a wall, semi-public sex, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: It was such a simple thing. Just a simple black tee-shirt. But the way Bucky wore it had you practically melting -- and he seemed to realize it, happily granting your needs A/N: idk guys there was just something about that black tee-shirt bucky wore in episode 4 of TFATWS. it got my mind wandering. and i love practicing writing smut i hope im getting better at it lmao
Masterlist
You knew you absolutely, utterly fucked the second Bucky took off his jacket, revealing that damn black tee.
So simple yet so fitting, so accentuating. He looked casual and cool yet incredibly powerful and dominant with that metal arm fully on display thanks to the short sleeves. Between that damn shirt and the hard expression he wore, you were pretty much done for. It took all you might to not march over to him right that second.
Bucky appeared to be aware of all this as he turned to you, feeling your eyes wandering shamelessly over him in that shirt. He just looked so… him. Not a soldier, not some asset, just him. And he was hot.
He shot you a little smirk, making your eyes widen, suddenly unreasonably worried your boyfriend could read your mind.
You two must’ve been too caught up in your silent communication because the next thing you heard was Sam asking if you were okay.
You jumped and forced yourself to look away from Bucky. "Yeah, Sam," you nodded, "I’m fine."
He hummed, suspicious. "Are you sure?"
But before you could answer, Bucky felt it was his time to chime in. "She’s a little distracted."
Your eyes widened again, this time sending a signal to your boyfriend to shut the hell up. He wouldn’t look at you and instead just laughed to himself.
"Distracted?" Sam questioned.
"I- I’m fine, really-,"
Bucky cut you off, "Actually, I need to talk with her about something."
Your jaw went slack as you tried finding some words of explanation, something to save yourself from this situation as you could see Sam’s concern growing. But nothing was able to come out before Bucky was grabbing your hand.
"You can’t talk to her out here?" Sam asked.
Bucky shook his head, profusely. "It’s a very private matter. Incredibly serious. Just between me and her."
"Bucky-," you just about yelped as he started walking to one of the off-shoot rooms from the living space. Sam tried asking more questions but Bucky promptly shut him down by slamming the door. Hard. It was a miracle the thing didn’t just fall right off its hinges. For whatever reason, that suddenly turned you on even more.
You stood there in the middle of the room watching as Bucky slowly turned to you. He had a playful glimmer in his eyes as he took in your nervous yet needy state. Your thighs were practically in pain from how hard you were trying to squeeze them together, wanting some relief to your core that was set ablaze by him. Him and that damn outfit. That damn hair. His damn face- God, you just needed your boyfriend right now.
Bucky walked towards you slowly, intensely. You tried averting your eyes to save yourself from crumbling but he stopped you. His fingers came to your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He appeared to be just as eager.
"What happened back there, doll?" He asked just barely above a whisper. He held your chin firmly.
"What- What do you-,"
He chuckled. The fucker chuckled at your flustered state. "What do I mean? I mean that look you were giving me. How those eyes were peeling off my clothing piece by piece. Made me want to take you right there."
Bucky’s words went straight to your core. The wetness was pooling profusely, practically soaking through your jeans. You let out a little whimper as his thumb brushed over your lip.
"It’s your tee-shirt," you whispered, surprised that you could even find any sort of words in your dazed brain. He was way too intoxicating.
Bucky’s face shifted in surprise. "My shirt?"
You nodded. "It just… looks good on you."
He couldn’t help but let out another chuckle. You pouted at his reaction which he took as the opportunity to quickly place a kiss on your lips. You tried moving into him, grinding your body with his to beg for more, but he stopped, forcing you two apart.
"Oh, doll," he mumbled as his hand left your chin and slowly made its way down your body. Over the curve of your clothed breast, down your stomach, to your hips… the hand finally dipped under the waistline of your jeans. Without much warning, two fingers traced your folds, dipping slightly in to collect the wetness. He gave a few thrust, teasingly. Bucky groaned. "You’re this wet just from how I look in my shirt?"
You gasped, nodding. Embarrassment wanted to coarse through you but the pleasure from Bucky tracing his fingers to your clit was too much. Slowly, he started with circular motions, making your body jolt. You squealed in surprise. Bucky smiled down at your reaction.
He kept it up, adding pressure every now and then as he continued. Your legs began to shake forcing you to grip his arms in support. Bucky noticed this and brought his metal hand to your hip, steadying you.
He picked up the pace, his eyes boring into yours intensely. You let out a breathy moan at the sight of him, looking at you so hungry and aroused.
"Come on, honey, cum for me," he mumbled, still working on your clit. Every now and then he’d stop to dip a finger in as if gaging your wetness. In those moments you’d groan, waiting for the contact to come back. He never let you suffer long, though, finding his way back to your clit quickly, keeping the pressured motions. "Be a good girl and cum for me, doll, and I’ll fuck you real nice against the wall just like you deserve."
That was the final straw. His words alone practically sent you over the edge. Your body shook as the first orgasm pulled through you, lighting fire throughout your body. Your hips bucked and twisted uncontrollably, almost trying to get away from the touch but Bucky didn’t lighten up. He worked you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear, making you lose it even more.
Once you came down from the high, Bucky wasted absolutely no time gripping your hips and pushing your back to the nearest wall. You yelped in surprise before his lips attached to yours, rough and demanding.
He lifted you up and grabbed your legs, circling them around your waist. You took the opportunity to grind into him feeling his erection hit your covered core. It lit a new fire in you making you gasp at the feeling.
Bucky moved his lips down your face to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You whined and grabbed onto that fucking tee shirt, still trying to push into him, wordlessly begging him to speed up.
"Eager, doll?" Bucky asked. You could practically hear the dumb smile on his face and it made you want to slap it off. But all you could do in response was nod.
He placed one more kiss on your lips before his hand made its way back down your body. This time he popped the buttons of your jeans open. Briefly, he placed you back down to pull your jeans to your ankles. When that task was done, you were back wrapped around his waist, now feeling the erection more prominently. You let out a deep, uncontrollable moan when it hit.
As if he understood your annoyance, Bucky quickly undid his own jeans. In your dazed state, you must’ve zoned out because the next thing you knew, your panties were just pushed to the side and his cock was breaching your walls. You two were in sync letting our moans and groans at the warmth, the wetness.
His arms held you tight as he began his thrusts, so precise and strong. You were backed into the wall forcefully, enjoying the pressure and pleasure combining into one. Your boyfriend groaned above you, sounds going right to your core which was made evident by the squelching sounding in the room.
Bucky kept his thrusts up as his metal hand left your hip and made its way to your clit. His body held you up with his other arm, giving you a second to marvel in his strength. It was always such a treat when it came out in the bedroom. How he could hold you down or hold you up had your mind spinning half the time.
As his thrusts began to pick up, his metal hand started with the circular motions again on your clit. The coldness meeting your warmth was enough to drive you crazy. Your hands fisted his shirt, trying to keep yourself grounded. You let out a surprised moan at the whole sensation which Bucky seemed to like as he gripped you harder. Your brain was going fuzzy, drunk even, as he pounded you into the wall flawlessly.
"Bucky… B-Bucky…" you choked out.
"Hmm?" You could tell he was staring at you despite your eyes being fluttered shut. He was taking in every inch of your face contorting in glorious pleasure. It seemed to drive his thrusts faster, the circular motions on your clit picking up as well.
"I- I’m gonna-,"
"You gonna cum again, doll?" He asked, a little mockingly. You would’ve bit back if you weren’t in this state but you couldn’t do anything, just take what he was giving. You nodded weakly. "Alright, honey, that’s it… Cum for me, come on. I got you."
It was like Bucky flipped that last switch as his strength and speed picked up. You yelped, clinging to his shirt even tighter.
One final push on your clit was all you needed before you were crumbling in his arms. Your body shook as your orgasm flooded you with ecstasy. Bucky didn’t want to let up with the trusts, though, chasing his own orgasm and thoroughly working you through your second. He kept pounding, his hand opting to leave your clit to grope at your breasts under your shirt. The metal hitting your skin in a new place made you squeal again.
The sounds and motions were it for Bucky as the next thing you knew, he released inside you, coating your walls and thrusting in and out, letting it leak onto your skin. You moaned at the sensation.
Bucky gave a couple more weak thrusts before he let out a final groan and stilled inside you. Both his arms now were around your waist, pulling you close as you two panted, coming down from the pleasure.
Bucky leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder. Your hands left his shirt and came up to his hair, where you ran them through his short locks.
"Was that what you needed, doll?" He asked, voice breaking through the heaviness of the room.
You giggled, "Exactly what I needed."
"Hmm," he sighed and straightened back up. He pecked your lips. "Guess I gotta wear this shirt more often."
You gasped, slapping his chest lightly as he laughed. But you couldn’t totally disagree. "I wouldn’t complain if it made an appearance every now and then."
Bucky shook his head, "I don’t understand how a black tee shirt can get you going, doll."
After he spoke, he slowly removed himself from you, letting you down from the wall. Warm wetness began soaking your thighs feeling so intimate, so hot, it almost made you almost suggest round two right then and there but that didn’t seem on the table after Bucky handed you some tissues to clean up. Not to mention the fact there were people in the living area.
You shrugged, readjusting your shirt and pulling your jeans back on. You watched as Bucky also readjusted his appearance. "It’s because it’s on you," you insisted. "You could walk around in the most ridiculous outfits and I’d still beg you to jump my bones."
Bucky let out the most joyous laugh at that. He walked back towards you, securely wrapping his arms around your waist. You placed a kiss on his lips, which he hummed happily into.
"I’m flattered," he mumbled. The light blush across his cheeks confirmed his words.
You smiled, "What can I say? I got a hot boyfriend and he should know it."
Bucky placed another kiss on your lips. "Oh, trust me, I think he knows it now."
You let out a giggle and pulled away from his grip, despite a little protest. "Come on," you said and motioned towards the door, "we should probably leave this room before we get any shit from them."
"Oh, you’re getting a lot of shit once you come out of that room," Sam called from the other side of the door, making both you and Bucky jump. "Might as well stay in here."
You groaned at the words, your face and neck suddenly becoming hot in embarrassment. Bucky just chuckled, somehow finding everything amusing, and wrapped an arm around you.
"Worth it, though," he whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t at all argue. Just glancing between the wall and that black tee made you suddenly hot and bothered all over again.
Bucky picked up on your gaze, once again practically reading your mind. With a suggestive smirk, he asked, "Round two?"
You bit your lip as his hand began running over the curve of your ass.
"Fine."
Bucky didn’t waste a single second before whisking you off your feet
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mindofharry · 8 months ago
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In which dilf!harry gets insecure about his age and takes it out on his younger girlfriend Y/N.
ENJOY THE ANGST AND FEEDBACK IS WELCOME AS ALWAYS!!! HAPPY READING!!! :-)
✧ ✧ ✧
Harry loves Y/N.
With all his heart. But recently he’s been felt this unfamiliar feeling seep into his body, making unwanted visions occur every time he closed his eyes. Visions of Y/N with younger men, out on the town in clubs. His daughter finding out about their elicit relationship.
It became too much.
There were a number of reasons why he felt so unfamiliar in his relationship. A big one would be that he met Y/N through his daughter, more specifically Y/N is Blair’s best friend. That is more than enough to make you nervous. But another reason as to why Harry was feeling imposter syndrome or some sort of guilt is because of his age. He had Blair young, but ageing didn’t escape him. He’s older and it stops Y/N from doing stuff normal people would do.
For example, going out to clubs, she had stopped doing that completely. Y/N now spent her Friday nights cuddled up against Harry.
“I haven’t been clubbing in ages. I feel so old.” Y/N whined, hugging Harry from behind. Harry frowned and continued washing the dishes.
“Why would that make you feel old?” Harry teased and Y/N shrugged, leaning back against the kitchen island.
“I don’t know. I feel older than I’m supposed to be.”
That’s what struck him.
Was Harry holding her back? He was way too old to be traipsing around town getting drunk until he black out. He had his days. But that didn’t mean Y/N had to stop, she seemed to miss it and he didn’t want his age and needs to get in the way of what she wanted.
It sounded pretty logical to him at the time. If he distanced himself a little, maybe Y/N would want to go out a little more.
“Hey! It’s Y/N. Just wondering if you’d wanna watch a movie with me on Friday? I’m free all weekend too and I know Blair is away with her mom. Let me know, I miss you.”
Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, drinking the rest of his scotch. He knew this was for the best.
Y/N was laying in bed, her phone on her stomach and her eyes a little watery. Did she say something? Do something wrong the last time they hung out? Was she too much? Too innocent? Too dirty? All of these thoughts plagued her mind as she looked through all the texts she had sent Harry.
She looked so desperate.
Y/N groaned and through her phone at the floor.
“Are you ok?” Her mom yelled, Y/N winced.
“I’m ok, momma. Just dropped something!”
Y/N bit her lip and then stood up from her bed, deciding what she’d do. She’d pay Harry a visit and see what this is all about. At the end of the day, communication is key. She needed to talk about her feelings.
Y/N also just needed her Harry.
What she imagined was they’d talk, maybe a cry a little and then they’d kiss and make up for whatever the problem was. But that is actually far from what happened.
“Y/N?” Harry asked it was more a slur of words to be honest, his eyebrows furrowed as he walked towards her.
“Are you fucking drunk?” Y/N asked.
“I’m a grown man. I can drink whenever the fuck I want.” Harry said standing in front of Y/N. Y/N sighed and nodded.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But maybe we should go to bed. Talk about stuff when you’re sober?” Y/N asked and Harry scoffed going back to his drink and gulping the rest of it down. Y/N bit her lip and came towards Harry putting her hands up.
“I think you should slow down a little.” Y/N suggested and then shit hit the fan.
“You’re what? Twenty Three? What the fuck do you know?” Harry asked, his voice raising slightly. Y/N flinched and bit her lip to try and keep her tears at bay. She’s a sensitive person.
“You gonna cry? Like a little fucking baby.” Harry slurred getting into Y/N’s face. Y/N sniffled and looked down.
“You’re so much younger than me, like fuck. How did I get someone like you?” Harry asked, Y/N almost thought it was nice. “Someone so fucking stupid, doesn’t even do shit! Just sits around and clings to me all fucking day!” Harry slurred, seething. His face turned red with rage and Y/N whimpered.
But she didn’t let that effect her.
“I like to think you’re pretty lucky to have someone like me. Not many people like you. I can see why now.” Y/N said shortly, bringing Harry over to the couch and laying him down.
“Baby…. come lay with me.” Harry mumbled, making grabby hands like the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Y/N held in a sob and put a blanket on him.
She kissed his forehead, got him a water and an advil to take before bed and then she up and left.
And Harry had no idea what had happened when he woke up. All he was left with was a note and a banging headache.
‘Hope you’re happy, Harry. Truly. Y/N.’
🏷 TAGLIST:
@damnasstyles @michellekstyles @handsomerry @meetmymouth @harryssweatcreaturee @lidiyatakesadderall @ally5sos @hrryology @onlyangellrry @mrdarcyplease @goldensonlyangel @swiftmendeshoran @cathrry4 @xoxoloverb @milfrrynation
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padfootdaredmetoo · 8 months ago
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Can you please write a Tommy x wife reader where he meets his wife after taking Ada to the ballet in London for her birthday, his future wife being the prima ballerina or something, and he’s instantly attracted-interested-intrigued-smittened by her… Ada could tell that her brother was very much liking the beautiful elegant brunette ballerina. Maybe after another show, Tommy pays to get backstage to meet the ballerina, introducing himself and they hit it off (maybe they have common interests or instant chemistry?) and every time he returns to London for business or politics, he arranges dates and meet-ups with his beautiful ballerina? All his family roast him over it how he’s so head over heels for her, how much he’s got the hots for her, but also how happy she makes him too. Obviously she has a fit slim-curvy body that he finds so sexy and she finds his lean muscles hot too, that after one date they end up having a couple rounds of hot steamy passionate sex the best they’ve ever had.
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Hello!
Thank you for this request! I had a lot of fun writing it and I really hope you enjoy it XO
P.S. I have no knowledge of ballet and I wanted to do more research but I really didn't have the time so I'm really sorry if things are wrong.
Rated Explicit: Sex, flirting, fluff so so much fluff, Shelby family drama, mentions of a slight panic attack. Hurt comfort, small fight.
Tommy gingerly accepted the tickets back from Polly.
“The ballet? Why would you take her to the ballet? Look at me Thomas” He looked up into her piercing glare. “I need her to feel like you care about her. She is a mess and I’m trying to make this better.” Her voice was the slightest bit strained and he knew that her temper was ready to flare if he blew this off.
“She’s my sister, when did I stop caring about her, eh?” He stared back at her. Everything he did for this bloody family was because he cared. The ballet was an excellent gift, even if her whole world seemed to revolve around communism.
They stayed in silence for a moment locked in a famous Shelby staring contest, till Ada came down the stairs. Tommy straightened himself and tried to smile, she’d gotten all dressed up like he’d told her to, in a light pink dress with lots of frilly things hanging on it. He didn't understand the dress, but the diamond necklace he’d dropped off for her certainly looked at home on her neck.
“You look nice” He knew it was animated or impressed like it should be, but her eyes twinkled the slightest bit like they used to when she was small.
“Oh, piss off. Where are we going then?” She asked but not in her usual pointed tone.
“The Ballet. Something about a Swan, I remembered you mentioned it once when we were helping that bird in the cut one time” He caught Polly’s face contort in surprise as she watched Ada light up.
“You remember that?” She asked softly.
“Course I remember. Let’s get going though.” He followed her through to the entry and waited for her to get her shoes sorted. She was not in the best shape after Freddie died. She was a good mother, but it was obvious she was struggling. Polly had talked her into coming to stay at Arrow House for a while so she could spend time with the little one. She was stubborn at first but something had finally made her change her mind.
“Alright, have fun now and don't worry about anything, love. Just enjoy yourself” Polly said, giving her a quick hug. He wasn't expecting her to hug him next, but she gave him a quick squeeze too.
The journey over was quiet, Ada didn't want to talk about anything personal and he didn't blame her. It’s not like they had been very close after the war. He’d left her a little girl who’d had all the faith in the world in her big brothers. Then they all came back in varying amounts.
They gave their tickets to a young lady in the booth, who raised her eyebrows and quickly checked a piece of paper. Tommy was ready to argue but before he could start she smiled at them.
“Enjoy! There is a separate entrance to the booth on the left.” She said cheerfully. Ada looked surprised, and the slightest bit excited. They went up and sat in the gold balcony. Waiters came and poured them champagne.
“What’s all this for then?” She asked, sipping on her drink.
“It’s your birthday” He replied easily.
“I’ve had lots of birthdays without fancy ballets?” She was suspicious looking to see what his angle would be, what he needed her for in the next master plan. He hated how he was seen by his family.
“I’ve had lots of birthdays without money too.” He said while lighting a cigarette.
“For real? This is just-” She asked it as a genuine question, he hated how broken she sounded. The waiter came and brought them more champagne and a whole tray of cakes.
“Really.” He answered back. Everything was fine until the lights started to dim. The uncomfortably busy theater seemed to shrink smaller and smaller, causing his heart to race. He started to talk himself down, he was in a theater, not in a tunnel. His mind was racing trying to control his body’s reaction to the hot theater.
Suddenly the lights were on the stage, and what was potentially the most beautiful lady appeared. He focused on her to avoid thinking about the tunnels. It worked relatively well and soon it was intermission. All the lights went on and he took a deep breath.
“Going to go for some air.” He announced and she nodded looking through the glossy pamphlet the waiter had brought.
He made his way past all the fancy people, looking out at the balcony packed with people he kept moving. He wandered down a corridor that led to an open door. He stepped through it and enjoyed a deep breath full of cold air.
“You missed the public balcony. It's back by the bar.” An elegant voice called from his left. He turned to see it was her, the swan lady. She was in a green silk robe smoking a cigarette. He just looked at her, she had the most beautiful bright eyes, even with the heavy makeup concealing her face he could tell she was beautiful. “Sir?” She said with a smirk.
“I don't like crowds.” He said softly, eyes locked with hers. She seemed to find him amusing, probably because he was absolutely smitten with her. Tommy was almost never caught off guard, and never by a woman after Gretta. She looked him over, clearly finding something about him that she liked by the smile on her face.
“Do you like ballet?” He tried to keep his face composed at her question, but she caught the smile forming on the edge of his mouth and let out a laugh.
“I like you. That's for sure, not particularly interested in the rest.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag enjoying the way she looked at him.
“All that money just to look at me?” She quipped with a raised brow. Suddenly he was overcome with the desire to see her without all the makeup and costuming. Her hair was pulled back tightly, on stage it was perfect, but here in the alley way she looked unhuman. It was cold, he watched her slender wrists shake slightly. He almost offered her his jacket. An announcement came over the speaker system giving people a ten minute warning.
“My sister’s birthday.” He liked the way her eyes softened ever so slightly.
“That’s sweet of you.” She said honestly. He shrugged, unsure what to say about it.
“I’m glad I could keep you entertained for the evening.” She spoke again in a coy tone that made his blood boil and his heart pick up. He smiled a genuine smile because he couldn't help it. This woman should come with a warning label.
“I’m certainly indebted to you.” He flirted back.
“Make it up to me tomorrow night?” It was forward, and she almost pulled it off except for those eyes. He could see her whole world in them, she was the slightest bit hopeful, if not nervous.
“Where should I pick you up, love?” He answered easily.
“Here at 10.”
“I’ll be here”
She gave him a nod and ran back inside. He smiled after her knowing that she was late because she was flirting with him.
The rest of the evening was uncomfortable but manageable as he watched the way she moved. Ada had a good night, a smile on her face the whole way back to the car.
“Everything you thought it would be then?” He asked as they drove through the city.
“Oh, Tommy it was perfect.” She went off about the whole thing explaining parts that he may have missed. He nodded along politely realising he’d missed the whole bloody thing.
“I'm happy you had a good time.” He responded hoping she wouldn't ask his opinion on it.
“Can I ask you a question”
“Of course.” He answered, wracking his brain for something to say about the whole thing other than the swan was pretty.
“How did you manage when Gretta passed away? You went away right after and I thought space from the family would help, but I think it's harder that way for me.” Tommy was caught off guard for the second time that night. He appreciated her giving him time to answer.
“I don't think I really managed it. I didn't really have the time, but in time it got better.” He cleared his throat, not sure what else to say about it. “I’m glad you're here. And I swear to you that I didn't rat him out that night.” He saw her nod out of the corner of her eye. It was a long time before she spoke again.
“So you seemed pretty enchanted by y/n l/n, eh?” She said cheerfully.
“Who?”
“The Swan! She’s originally from the countryside, but she was hand picked at a church concert and put in the Vic-Wells Ballet School. Every girl’s dream, anyway she’s the Prima Ballerina now and you pretty well would close your eyes unless she was on the stage.”
“I don't know what you're talking about” He smiled slightly and realised this felt like how they would banter when they were kids.
“You bastard! You fancy her then? If you go back for another look, take me with you.” She laughed. Tommy was sure she mumbled something about Grace after but decided to let it slide.
_____
Things never go as planned. He’d wanted to have enough time to go home and change back into a nicer suit. He wanted to impress her. But he would surely be late if he went all the way back. He’d rather pick her up in a regular suit than leave her waiting, or have her go thinking he stood her up.
He drove down the alley way and waited by the same doors as last night. He fidgeted thinking about everything he still had to get done tomorrow, picking her up at ten meant that it was going to be a late night. He got out of the car and waited against the side of it so he could get the door for her when she showed up. She was late but Tommy assumed that there was a lot to do after a show ended. He looked down the alleyway at the city.
The door flew open and a stream of angry Russian poured out behind her. She quickly locked eyes on him, her face was flushed and her eyes wide.
“Drive!” She shouted. He got her settled and then hopped in and took off.
“What was that about?” He didn’t like the thought of her being in trouble.
“I might be skipping extra rehearsal to be here….” She let out a wild laugh as she settled into the seat next to him.
“I can always take you out another time-”
“No, they just want me to stay behind with the other dancers. I’m not really needed and I’m so bloody tired. They can survive a night without me.”
“Are you hungry?” He’d called in a favour with a restaurant owner to stay open late for them.
“Starving! But let's just go back to mine, eh? I'm dying to get out of all of this.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Tommy noticed that the thick makeup was off her face but her hair was still up. She was crazy, elegant but also very inelegant at the same time.
Restaurant plans out the window then. He thought.
She directed him to her hotel and took him up to her room.
“This is me, well temporarily” She said, doing a twirl.
It was extremely lavish but there were things around that were very out of place. Candles, a worn quilt, and things that reminded him of the house in Small Heath.
“What do you want for dinner, love?” She gave him a hungry gaze that made him assume that food was not on the menu for the night. She rattled out her favorite foods while she floated around the place tidying up. He called his friend telling him to drive it to the hotel.
“Those items aren’t on the room service menu?” She said slipping out of her shoes.
“I called a friend.” She looked impressed which made him happy.
“Here, take a seat.” She said clearing a pile of books off of the couch. “Help yourself to a drink, I’m just going to try to get my hair down.” Her face flushed again and he could see how tired she was. It was obvious to him she’d had other assumptions about how the night was supposed to go.
“Do you want a hand?” He offered, not wanting to miss spending time with her.
“That would be wonderful if you don't mind.” She sat on the floor in front of him. He didn't like how worn out she seemed, he felt the need to fix it somehow. He started to pull out the pins he could find.
“Sorry about tonight. I had a bunch of ideas sorted, but the day took a few unplanned turns.” He watched as her shoulders relaxed against him.
“It’s alright.” Tommy honestly didn't mind. He knew she was being so vulnerable because she was exhausted, and he’d been there a few times before.
“It’s not though, I wanted to impress you.” She whispered. Tommy got the last pin out and her long hair finally fell over her shoulders, without thinking he ran his fingers through her scalp causing her to let out a moan. His heart jumped and he realised that he would drive to London every night just to take the pins out of her hair. Anything just to get her to make that noise again.
There was a knock at the door and Tommy got the food. There was a dining area but it was covered in costumes and makeup, she stood up abruptly as if she’d forgotten it was there.
“Sorry!” She made to go over there but Tommy stood in her way.
“Couch is fine, love.” They sat on the couch and she went off about how she’d thought the night would go. Either out for dinner or straight to bed. She didn’t think he’d be this nice. Tommy looked over her body as she leaned against the back of the couch with a glass of wine in her hand. There was glitter stuck to her neck and the tops of her breasts, making them catch the light every time she took a breath. Tommy wanted nothing more than to fuck her, but the dark circles under her eyes made him feel as if she would break.
“Like what you see?” She said without opening her eyes.
“Almost.” Tommy watched as her eyebrow raised and her bright eyes shifted to look at him. “You look like you need to sleep for at least a month” He reached out a hand to run along her cheek, hoping that he didn't offend her.
“Takes one to know one. When’s the last time you slept through the night, eh?” He laughed, and she moved under his outstretched arm.
“A while.” He admitted. She was pressed against his side now.
“Challenge accepted.” She said before reaching up and kissing him with a passion he surely thought she would be too tired to conjure up. But there was nothing tired about the woman in front of him.
___
It was the first night of many like that. He’d make an effort to come to London as much as he could. Sometimes they would stay up for hours talking, most of the time she would pull him straight to bed. She took a lot of stress out on him, not that he was complaining. It was by far the best he’d ever had. By the end of it he’d be tired enough to sleep through the nights.
Things never go unnoticed by his family for long though.
Ada had guessed that it was her right away, he’d come home one morning and she had spotted glitter stuck to his face. She’d laughed for fifteen whole minutes at the expression on his face that morning. It’s the longest he’d seen her laugh since she was a kid, he didn't have the heart to snap at her.
She’d kept his secret, giggling softly every time Polly tried to question him. Everyone wanted him to bring her home just as much as they wanted to poke fun at him for liking someone. They were all left a little sore after Grace turned out to be a spy, their faith in his decision making was as it always was.
And he did like her, a whole lot. But that’s where the problem was, she had a whole career and life filled with wonderful things, he wasn't going to drag her into this life. If the questionable publicity didn't kill her, his lifestyle definitely could. Tommy talked about his life freely with her, but he sidestepped most questions about business. One of the many marvelous things about her is that she didn't care, she just enjoyed the time he spent with her.
She was too busy to be with a gangster, her days started at 4am and ran late into the night. No way a relationship would bloom out of that. It was a simple fling, nothing more.
___
After a long night of getting her off in every possible position she could come up with, she laid there in his arms. Looking down he saw the way her big eyes traced his features in the moonlight.
“Tommy?” she whispered.
“Yes, love?”
“Will you take me home to meet your folks?” His throat closed as she looked at him. She looked so small and vulnerable it twisted his heart up. His first instinct was to get up and leave, make a mad dash out of there, out of her life.
Protect her
But he just couldn't hurt her, his vocal cords refused to tell her no, his whole body protested any movement. So he laid there thinking of how to do this. Did he tell her about that part of his life? Let her twist away from him in horror, break his heart and get it over with? Seemed like the best way to do it.
“If you want to, but there are things you should know first before - erm-”
“Things get serious?” She interrupted sharply. He was sure he’d offended her, but he was still in disbelief that she thought this was serious. They didn't go to fancy dinners, he didn't parade her around or shower her with gifts. Wasn't constantly trying to prove himself like he’d had to when he was seeing Grace.
He’d bring food over, help her get undressed and washed up, they’d go to bed and make an absolute mess of themselves then they would sleep.
“Is this serious already?” He forced the question out, figuring it was better to get this over with.
“Well clearly not if you're asking.” She quipped, he felt her narrow body tense up. He held her tighter, preventing her from moving away.
“Wait, that's not what I meant. Look I figured it wasn't serious for you because most of the women I’m around require a lot more. Your happy with this so I figure it was just for -”
“For the sex. You think I’m sharing what little time I have in the day, all my fucking secrets with you because I’m a whore using you for sex?”
“No! I just don't know how you would be satisfied with this, eh? You deserve a lot more, and a better man than me. I’m not worth more.” His words fumbled out of his mouth. Why make the effort here, she was going to leave. The fun was over, no reason to be this vulnerable when she was just going to end up heart broken. He looked down again into those eyes, tears were pooling threatening to spill, his whole chest hurt at the sight of her in pain.
“Look, I’m not husband material. My family and I aren't from money. The way I got here wasn't clean. Someone like you with the world at your feet, using me for sex makes more sense to me than you looking at me and seeing a fucking future. People have gotten hurt in the past and I won't have you hurt. I would rather hurt you right now than have something happen to you or your career. I genuinely thought you just enjoyed the company, you’re lonely and I’m easy.”
“You know that your name has a reputation right?” She said plainly.
“Too aware.” He sighed in frustration.
“The kind of name you can ask people about?” There was the slightest bit of humour back in her features and he could feel himself breath finally. “Obviously I asked around about your family. Dodgy stuff in the beginning, some say you fucked your way into parliament, other say you’ve killed more people than cigarettes' smoked. Your Aunt is a scary gypsy whore who seduces men in the night, persuades them into poor betting choices.” Tommy let out a cold laugh as he tensed at her words, She continued. “Your sister is a communist set on destroying the country, and your brothers are rowdy, vicious, and violent. I felt like a lot of it was exaggerated, but I figured you’d tell me the truth when you were ready.”
“Well, I don't know what to say. Yeah, there’s killing, always sex. My brothers are reasonable men, but violent when it's demanded of them. My aunt is not a whore.” It angered him slightly, he wasn't surprised but still, that was his fucking aunt. “My sister is hurting right now, but she’s not out to destroy anything, other than my life maybe.”
“I want to meet them, they sound lovely.” She said honestly, like a girl would when hearing about the successful family business the guy courting her belongs too.
“You’re crazy.”
“Thomas, I came from a farm. It was a hard life. You know what happened to me when I was small. Your family might take on the world in a vicious way, but the world is a vicious place. You guys have each other and that makes it good. I have no one. No one looks at me the way you do. I thought -” She stuttered not risking saying the words they both knew were true. He would clearly do anything for her.
“You thought right, come here.” He kissed her, not ready to say the words yet. He showed her instead, kissing her slowly, caressing her small fame. Letting her shiver underneath him, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh at the base of her neck. She let out a moan once he gave in pushing himself deep inside her wetness. This time there was nothing rushed, it was slow for once, he kissed her. Watching her come apart from all the emotion of the conversation tears streamed down her cheeks, his name pouring out her mouth like a prayer. He felt his body claim her in a different way, she was a part of him now. His to protect and love. He’d find a way to handle the damage control, he’d do anything to keep her at his side.
Her body started to tense and he sped up bringing her over the edge. Her tight body contracting around him pulling him in as he spilled himself deep inside her. Her slender, toned arms refused to loosen their grip around his neck. She was still crying into his neck, making him realise that regardless of his feelings towards her, he’d broken her in a way he knew would take ages to recover from.
___
The morning light woke them up, she’d finally earned three days off before she was back gearing up for the final few shows. After that they would be on to the next show, lucky she was staying in London for the time being, the thought of her traveling the world being on display made him twist up.
“Morning.” She said sleepily.
“Morning, time to get ready” He said, moving to sit up.
“Woah woah no. This is my first day off in a month and a half. We are not leaving this bed for any reason.” She said assertively, laying there with her breasts out and hair pointing in every direction.
“Taking you home today so you’ll have time to stay the night. Unless you want to do that another time” Her face lit up.. “So let's get on with it then.” He moved to get up but her fingers gripped his forearm tightly.
“Mr. Shelby, I’m a working woman, a busy woman. Getting ready starts in bed, show me some respect.” She said in her usual coy tone, pushing the blankets down, opening her legs to him. Worth being stuck in traffic, he thought to himself before ravishing her.
They showered together, running his hands over her soapy curves led to another round in the bathroom and then they were finally on their way.
He called Polly while she was rushing around packing an overnight bag.
“Morning Poll, bringing her home for lunch and to stay the night. Anyone that wants to meet her can come by. But no fucking fighting and no bullshit, eh?”
“Morning to you too, stop speaking of us like we are animals or we’ll act like it. See you soon then.”
“See you soon.”
____
She was nervous but hid it well. How she could get up on a stage that big and perform to hundreds of people, but be nervous about this baffled him.
They pulled up the long driveway and she looked over his house and the cars parked in front of it.
“Look I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to ya, and if you want to leave I’ll take you home. Just ask.” She looked at him with wide eyes like she was rolling the idea around in her head.
“Oh come off it, this will be fine.”
They paused for a moment before he got out and helped her out of the car. He barely got her in the door before the kids were there hugging her, John’s dog going crazy. She embraced them easily, somehow laughing lightly and Tommy picked up the puppy. Esme tore around the corner telling them off, they straightened up and apologized, John came through grabbing the dog.
“The dog too?” He snapped quietly at him.
“Eh, brother. Dogs tell a lot about people!” Arthur boomed entering the space.
“Now, these are the kids, my brothers Arthur, John, his wife Esme, and Finn.”
“It’s very nice to meet you! Thank you for the warm welcome. "She said politely. John let out a laugh.
“Trust me love, we are indebted to you. Somehow you managed to make him tolerable.”
“John” Tommy said in a warning tone, but all she did was laugh along with everyone.
Polly came through giving her a tight hug.
“This is my Aunt Polly.” He announced. There was a bit of tension that settled through the family. Polly was very against Grace and it caused a large amount of stress.
“Lovely to meet you dear. Come through for some tea, we want to hear all about you.” Polly’s tone was friendly and warm leaving Tommy somewhat hopeful that maybe she would be a good fit.
It was a long and embarrassing day, it only got worse when the whiskey was added into the mix. They poked fun at him constantly, mostly about how he changed since she entered his life, some more risky comments about her body and flexible nature that left her laughing with flushed cheeks and Tommy snapping at them. Eventually he took the boys into the study to let them get the roasting over with, letting her settle with the women.
He figured she should be fine there with them, the loud roaring laughter made him uneasy about what they might be discussing. But deep down he knew that however humiliating, she was accepted into the family.
Things died down and people made their way home for the evening, promising to be back in time for lunch tomorrow as they kissed her goodnight. She sat back on the couch next to Ada in the study, Tommy looked at her and suddenly forgot what life was life before her. She looked like she had sat there a hundred times listening to his sister ramble.
“Not to interrupt this riveting lecture, but I think it's time to turn in eh?” Ada rolled his eyes at him but when looking over at the girls worn form she agreed.
“I think that’s a good idea. You must be so tired from all of us.” Ada said softly.
“I’ll never be tired of you.” She said with a smile. “Tommy, would you grab my handbag? I have a gift for you.” Ada looked surprised and Tommy went to search for her discarded bag.
He came back to the sound of them laughing, he’d not experienced a force of joy quite like the one that had followed her into the house that day. He gave her the abnormally heavy bag.
“Jesus woman, what are you dragging around it here eh?”
“Oh shut it.” She quipped. She dug around in the bag till finding a small deep blue pouch. She handed it to Ada who looked bewildered at the jewelry.
“It’s just costume jewelry, they gave me a few sets to keep for production. This one was given to me from the Prima Ballerina before me.”
“I can't accept this.” Ada choked out.
“Sure you can, I have many. They aren't real, but Tommy told me how you used to dance around the house when you were little, much like me. Feels right for you to have it. After all, you're the reason for us meeting.” The weight of the moment crushed Ada and it was painful to see her cry after months of her hiding it. He didn't know what to do but you embraced her tightly.
After that you were a part of the family.
______________________
Some cute ideas I would love to write:
The kids insist on her teaching them ballet moves. So she does, with Ada and Esme slightly drunk following along in the back laughing.
Polly slowly takes her in as her own, and the way she starts to get better having a mother figure to look up to. Polly braiding her hair in the evenings when she stays over. Listening to her problems and giving advice and comfort.
Tommy being super supportive of her career, but also fiercely protective. One night one of the directors asked her to do sexual stuff or they would cut her, and Tommy and the boys beat the shit out of him and make sure it never happens to any of the other girls again.
Constant sex everywhere, in the car, all over the house, her apartment, her dressing room. When they can't have it out properly, he’ll still get her off with his fingers.
Things get scary with business so Tommy sends her to stay with Esme and John. They had a house way out in the woods for when things get bad. So they teach her how to shoot and look after chickens and stuff. She finds out she’s pregnant but has to wait for Tommy to settle things before she can tell him.
Arthur teaches her to throw a punch but she bruises her knuckles and Tommy freaks out about her being hurt.
So many ideas about this…
Tags List: @tommydoesntpayforsuits @misselsbells06, @peakyevans
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cinnamonest · 5 months ago
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Hello I saw your requests were open and I had to come running in. This is less of a request and more of a brainrot but hear me out:
Darling accidentally agreeing to become the stress reliever/communal fuck toy for Aether and his group of all guys party members.
Like she makes a promise to help them out in whatever they need after they save her family or help her out of a sticky situation and she words it in such terribly open ways: "I'll do whatever I can to help you and the others." and "If you need anything from me, it's yours to take!" and even "I'll give you whatever you want, I won't hesitate."
How can they not jump on this opportunity? They have not have had pussy since joining Aether and/or their entire lives and this cute girl waltzes in saying all those nice words and is in their general direction, acknowledging their existence? Absolutely pounce on the chance and her, going at her for a while until they've all had multiple turns on her, wanting to try out every thing they can of her.
I also like to imagine this is the scenario of all the Genshin Boys being virgins (lmao) so they are even more excited to stick their dick in the real deal after all this time. And holy shit it feels so nice - The pussy. The mouth. The space between her tits and thighs.
No way they can go back to using their hands after this. Not when she's there, now being dragged along with them for the rest of this journey so they have easy access fucking. There's not much poor weak darling can do, too, because she can't fight them all by herself and there's no way people would believe her story of being essentially turned into a toy/stress ball for the Hero of Mondstadt/Defender of Liyue/Liberator of Inazuma etc etc etc and his esteemed friends especially if it's the likes of Diluc and Thoma and such. (Okay maybe Childe will get sideye but him being a Harbinger means people won't say it aloud lmao.)
ANYWAYS- Now she finds herself always getting fucked/used by at least one dude during their breaks back at the camp to release tensions or relieve boredom during downtime. Maybe sometimes being the venting wall for the guys who need to complain or vent. Definitely gets someone just. Groping her casually since they like how softer she feels, so good to just touch and fondle and squeeze.
Poor girl can't even get enough sleep sometimes because sometimes Xiao, the little bastard, wakes up with a raging stiffy and he gets the brilliant idea to simply shake the girl awake to make her at least aware of her surroundigs before shoving her face into his crotch. (Also see: He's being decent and considerate and all those other things he's being nagged by the others to show to the girl.)
Wheezing at that last bit just -- even Aether, ultra virgin as he is, watches Xiao fuck her one (1) time and is so horrified that he has to have a talk with him like "my dude my man my fellow you cannot go on like this--" and force him to learn how to do it right so he doesn't break her... bc then they can't fuck her until she recovers :/
Absolute galaxy brain at all of them being virgins too so true
Oh to be Traveler Aether's little shareable cocksleeve, dragged all around Teyvat... Imagine you really did know what you were implying, you figured you could pay him back for a favor with a ONS because you had no mora, so you said you'd give him whatever he wants... But he decided you can become his pet! Permanently! :) Probably should have thought a bit before extending that offer... Bonus points if it's somehow contractually binding, so you really are stuck. And yes, even if not, no one is really going to listen to you. People would sweep it under the rug, even.
Suddenly, Aether never has any issues recruiting any of his lineup of acquaintances. They used to be busy a lot more often, it seems, now they jump at the opportunity to join the party. They even hit him up every now and then with the "hey so uhhh need any help with anything?" Just hoping to spend a few hours with him because that means getting to rail you :) it's a great team party member recruitment strategy, honestly. "Hey you wanna help me do my adventurer's guild commissions?? You can fuck my slavewife if you do!" Works like a charm every time, even if it earns some bewildered sputtering at first.
Also I like to think of how you can set your commissions to only a certain region, so like... Sometimes if Aether needs to stay in one region for a while to get some achievement, you're gonna be stuck in one nation for a while with the same dudes, except on rotation. Only 4 people in a party, you know.
But despite being limited to one region, there's a bit of a supply and demand marketing issue here where there's one of you and like 6 guys trying to get some on a daily basis, and unfortunately none of them are very inclined to patience or sharing. Using Mondstadt as an example, depending on where you go at what time, you might happen to hit the area right at a time where Albedo is in town, Diluc is bartending, Bennett is at home and even Razor is visiting the city, not to mention Kaeya and Venti always being there... Again, only 3 of them can go (or even 2 if you're considered a party member yourself...?). Poor Aether has a lot of pressure on him to make sure they can all get their fill and thereby remain loyal companions. And maybe because he's started to consider all the ways it could backfire, since they seem to have started liking you a little too much.
Each one becomes dependent on that stress-relieving comfort pussy, starts getting depressed, and eventually in a bad mood, when Aether hasn't come by his region in a while. What's taking so long? He has NEEDS. Maybe if he just stole her away next time, Aether would never know...
Also I'm crying at the idea of Aether just. Becoming self-conscious because he feels like his friends only want him around so they can fuck his girl :( here he is seeing them for the first time in a while, and they just sort of "oh hey Aether" only to immediately push him aside and get to you instead. Poor thing.
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barnesbabee · a year ago
Text
collab || J.Y
ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ 2 - ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ
Summary: Two famous porn stars have a fun collab together.
Pairing: Jeong Yunho x gn!reader
Words: Just enough
⚠ although there is no mention of gender, the reader wears makeup and lingerie, so if you are uncomfortable with that, don't read  ⚠
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As Yunho dried his hair with a small towel, he heard the familiar ding sound from his social media. He had just finished uploading the edited version of his live stream, so it wasn't unusual for him to be contacted by a bunch of people right after, however, he didn't expect to see you.
You weren't well known in the porn scenario, as you were fairly new and the competition was vast, but your 'Around The World' series had become a huge success and a major hit for its originality.
Yunho was quite a fan of the series, so when he saw your message, his fingers were crossed.
Y/N: Hello! My name is Y/N, I'm not sure if you know my work, but I am a porn star that is currently doing a series called 'Around The World' where I... well, fuck people all around the world. My next stop is South Korea and I have seen your work before and I think our style is very similar and I would love to do a collab with you! Feel free to check out my work on my page, I hope to hear from you soon! xoxo
The tall man squealed like a high schooler getting a text from his crush, he's always wanted a collab and now he was about to get one in one of the biggest series of the moment!
Yunhxxx: Hello Y/N! I am aware of your series and I am a fan! I would love to do the collab with you! I'll send you my number so we can talk about the details more comfortably :)
Part of your anxiousness died down at his response. Most porn stars were very polite and kind in front of the camera, and in business discussion, all for that quick buck, but you'd find, with your series, that a lot of them were just assholes with a huge ego. You had a good feeling about Yunho, but you didn't want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed.
The arrangements didn't take long, as you were both excited for the collab to happen, making it very easy to communicate. Yunho was kind enough to offer his own home for you to sleep in, arguing that 'whoever fucks me gets to sleep in my house for free'.
Yunho spent the weekend preparing everything for your arrival on Monday morning: he cleaned his whole house, stocked his fridge and cabinets with all sorts of food, and sanitized every toy of his. By the time he received your 'I'm on my way!' text, his house was the cleanest it had ever been.
The man showered, put on his best cologne, and applied some dark eyeshadow under his eyes. As he stood in front of the closet in his briefs only, he wondered what he should go for. A sophisticated look? A sexy look? An outlaw-looking look? He wanted something to get you immediately attracted to him. Yunho wanted to make you feel good, not to make you act as if you felt good.
Ultimately he chose a black button-up and black suit pants. He decorated his long fingers (that he had come to learn was something many people liked about him) and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
Yunho was aware of his innocent appearance. He had had his cheeks squeezed one too many times, so he caught on quickly. However, the man loved to play with his looks. He loved to make people wonder what kind of person he was, with a cute face, yet an intimidating look.
Before he knew it, his doorbell rang. Yunho took one last look in the mirror, just to make sure everything was in its place and walked towards the door. The first hello wasn't awkward at all, as you'd already had a few zoom calls to discuss what would happen in your collab, just to make sure there were no misunderstandings.
Once you stepped in with your suitcase, you couldn't help but notice how neat, modern, and well decorated his house was. The walls were white with big windows, and the furniture was a mix of grey, light blue, and white. Yunho lead you to the guest room where you'd be staying, and it was a lot nicer than you expected. The bed was high and large, the duvet was grey with a bunch of fluffy white and red pillows decorating it. In front of the bed was a modern black vanity with lightbulbs around the squared mirror, and against the wall in front of the door was a black, sliding door wardrobe, with a large, orange, and red abstract painting of a couple. His house looked simple yet classy, with just the right amount of colour and decoration. You took a look at him, his dark look contrasting the house.
"You already got prepared?"
Yunho looked a little puzzled for a second, but then understood. "Oh! Oh no, you've just arrived, you must be tired! This is just... how I dress?" He said, feeling a little embarrassed.
You took a good look at his outfit.
"You always dress like that? Wow..."
Yunho's cheeks became a little red at the comment, and he stumbled over his words as he thanked you. He was used to receiving compliments when he had his clothes off, but with clothes on? Not so much... Before closing the door, Yunho told you to feel at home, and that when you were ready you could start setting everything up in the room he used to shoot.
The man had never felt that nervous, so when he finally closed the door, he immediately headed to his living room, and found the whiskey bottle he kept for emergencies. He poured a generous glass and sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone as he waited for you.
You were pretty much used to the routine, and since you had a stopover in a neighboring country and spent the night there, the trip hadn't been too tiring. You sat on the very convenient vanity and re-did your makeup. You liked to match your look to your type of content, so you went for a dark look: dark purple lipstick, a heavy, black smokey eye, and loads of mascara. You made sure to apply a lot, so it would run down your face and give the viewers the fucked out look they loved to see.
The lingerie matched your makeup: black lace lingerie with some bling here and there, and a garter belt to accessorize. You grabbed your robe from your suitcase and exited the room.
"Yunho?" You called, peeking your head from behind the wall.
"Hm?"
His eyes widened when he looked up. You were completely different from the person he had met.
"I am ready if you are!"
He nodded and stood up, downing the rest of his 2nd whiskey cup in one go. Yunho took you upstairs and opened the door to his 'studio'.
In the center of the room was a carpet, and a big, empty space behind it.
"I usually move the bed or the couch over there, depending on what I want to do that day. I found that it was easier to move the furniture than the whole set up." He explained, pointing at the empty space.
Against the wall, opposite of you, there was a bed, much like the one on your bedroom, and a nice, black leather couch. Beside you there was a closet, where Yunho kept all his toys, accessories, and streaming outfits. Other than that it was just the usual setup: a desk with a computer, professional lights, and a camera.
Yunho walked over to the couch and moved it with ease to the empty space.
"So we've already decided?" You asked.
The man smirked as if simply entering the room turned him into a completely different person.
"I already have everything planned out for you dear, it would be rude to have my guests work."
You blushed slightly, and sat on the couch, waiting for the green light.
You watched as he opened the closet, displaying his wide collection. He picked a bunch of stuff that he set on top of a towel on the floor.
"Alright, that's about it."
You cocked your head to the side, in confusion.
"You're not getting dressed?"
Yunho reached for the choker he had brought and softly placed it around your neck, tying it just tight enough. He hooked his finger on the big metal ring on the front and tugged on it. You followed his silent command and knelt on the ground, in front of the couch.
"I'm already dressed, for the concept we're gonna try."
You were getting curious and excited. You stayed still as he started up the live stream. Yunho turned on the lights, set up the camera, and pressed 'Start Live Video'. The screen counted down from five, until the live started.
Yunho sat on the couch behind you, and placed his large hand on your head.
The man smirked as soon as the comments started raining.
There was a mixture of fuck yeah's and happy cheers as they recognized Yunho, and became excited for what was to come. The live was obviously happening on your account, although you would always split the tips with the person you worked with.
"Hello," Yunho started, and you let him take the lead "welcome to the 24th edition of Around The World, I am today's guest, and we have such a great show for you today, don't we?"
Yunho tugged on your hair, making you wince. You looked at the camera and nodded.
The 30 dollar donation ding sounded, announcing that someone had made a request.
'Make her sit on your thigh'
You let Yunho take the lead once more, hooking his finger on your choker's hoop and pulling you up, to sit on his thigh. You hummed as you rolled your hips, causing friction between your core and his thigh. Your hand ran along his torso, feeling the fabric of his shirt.
"He has too many clothes, don't you think?" You asked the camera, in a flirty tone.
There was a rain of comments agreeing with you, and you immediately got to work, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. His dick print was already very visible in his pants, and you could now understand why he wanted to wear that look.
You removed his shirt, slowly and teasingly, as the viewers praised Yunho's toned body.
The male hooked his finger on your underwear and snapped it against your skin. Your little whimper at the sudden pain made him smirk.
Yunho ran his hands along your body, making you shiver from the cold metal of his rings.
Tips and donations rained down with many requests, and so you went back on the floor and laid your head on Yunho's thigh, your face mere inches away from his hard-on. You perked your ass up and traced the shape of his cock with your finger.
"What do you think? Should we reward them?" Yunho asked, petting your head as he stared into the camera.
As expected, everyone gave you the green light to continue, so you slowly opened his fly, to find he had no underwear on. You freed him from his pants, gripping his length in your hand. You kept eye contact with the male, and although you were a professional, you were always nervous when you had to take dicks on the bigger side.
You spat on his tip, and played with his cock for a second, before slowly inserting it in your mouth. Yunho groaned and threw his head back, taking in the warmth of your mouth. His hand was tangled in your hear, gripping it and tugging on it from time to time.
"Shit, you're doing so good..."
Yunho was very vocal, to your (and the viewer's) pleasure.
The 50$ notification ding sounded, and a message played right after.
'bby I wanna see you jump on his cock'
Yunho smirked and gripped your hair, in a firm, yet not painful way. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, cleaning the remaining saliva.
"Hmm, you know what, so do I."
You stripped from your underwear, in a sensual way for the viewers (and Yunho) to enjoy.
Yunho slapped his thigh, and you climbed onto his lap, slowly but surely sinking down on his length. You gripped onto his shoulders for stability and groaned as every inch of his cock disappeared inside of you.
His hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks in a beautiful way for the camera to see. The male helped you, as you rode him, not only by holding your hips and guiding you, but also by snapping his hips up against yours. Filthy slapping sounds along with the mixture of your moans echoed in the room, and the donations were reaching their peak.
"F-fuck baby you're s-so good, you're doing so well."
You gripped his shoulders harder, as his praises drew you closer and closer to your edge.
"They're c-close! Should we l-let them cum?"
It was impressive how professional Yunho was. How he looked so immersed in you, so tired and fucked out, with his fringe sticking to his forehead and eyes burning into your soul, yet he didn't forget to interact with the viewers.
There were many people leaning towards yes, begging to hear the way you sounded as you came, and so he worked hard until you screamed his name and tightened around his cock. He let you rest and recompose for a second, but the way you clenched around him made it impossible for him to hold it in any longer.
"Shit, get on the ground."
You gladly complied, and got on your knees for him, immediately sticking out your tongue, as you could predict what would come after.
Yunho jerked himself off to your fucked out face, and soon a string of curses came out of his mouth, as he spilled all over your face. He smirked and wiped some of his cum off of your face with his thumb.
"Say ah, pretty baby."
You smiled and opened your mouth. He inserted his finger in your mouth and you happily licked it clean.
Yunho cupped your face with his hand, and smiled.
"You behaved so well, I might have to reward you again."
His head tilted to the side, pointing to the couch, and you followed. You sat down on the couch, and Yunho knelt in front of you. His arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you forward, so your hole would be of easy access to him.
The man teased you, as his tongue danced around your hole, not quite getting where you wanted him. You rolled your hips up, earning a slap to your inner thigh.
He looked up at you, with a hint of darkness in his eyes.
"Behave."
It didn't take long for you to get what you wanted, as he started tongue fucking you, with the help of his fingers. You gripped his hair, and your back arched as your high approached once more.
You came quickly, with his tongue still inside you, and he held your trembling legs and body, to keep you stable.
He didn't move for a second, giving you time to breathe and rest. After you had recomposed yourself, he helped you up, and the two of you shared a heated kiss, Yunho's hands never leaving your ass, that he definitely had a fixation with.
You finished the stream by thanking the viewers and donors and shut everything off. Once everything was done, you sighed and plopped onto the couch.
"Do you not want to shower?" Yunho questioned, as he saw the mess in your face and body.
You chuckled.
"Yes I do, very much, but I'm so fucked out..."
Yunho very kindly scooped you up.
"Well, I wouldn't want my guest to work too hard, I'll help you out."
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Behind Closed Doors - Chapter 2
Pairing: CEO! Jung Wooyoung x Reader
Genre: Slice of life, Suggestive (if you squint)
Word Count: 2762
Summary: It’s the day of your interview and your boss is none other than Jung Wooyoung, the man you had become acquainted with the night before. Anxiety takes over from not knowing if he remembered you, maybe the interview will run smoothly like any other.
Prompt List        Series Masterlist       MasterList         Buy me a Coffee
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“Miss Y/l/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The dark haired man said with a smile, clasping his hands together as he leaned forward on his desk. You stood frozen for a moment, before you sat the man you met at the bar the night before, the same man who paid for your drinks and flirted with you. You couldn’t tell if he recognised you or not, he made no indication he knew who you were or that he’d ever seen you before so that was working in your favour, maybe he forgot over the course of the night or maybe he was being just like you in this moment, trying not to make it obvious he knew who you were. “Pleasure to meet you too.” You finally answer, trying to control the shakiness in your voice. “Please take a seat.” He gestured towards the chair in front of him for you to sit. Your nerves just would not subside no matter how hard you tried to control yourself, memories of last night flooded your mind.
“So,” He started, resting his chin on his hands as he spoke. “Tell me a little bit about yourself.” He was being very professional but the hint of playfulness in his voice made you wonder even more if he recognised you or if he was just trying to make you feel comfortable. “Well I had straight A’s in school and I’m currently in University studying Journalism.” He nodded as you spoke, showing he was taking in every word you were saying and the small smile creeping onto his face showed he was rather impressed with you and the more you continued to talk about yourself and your achievements the more eager he seemed to take you on. “So what made you choose us?” You had waited for this question from the start, your answer being planned out well in advance and the best thing about it was you didn’t even have to exaggerate your answer, every word was genuine. “You’re the biggest and best news company in the country and it’s been my dream since I left school to work here.” The way your eyes lit up as you spoke told Wooyoung just how much you meant what you said and from that moment his mind was made up about you.
“Well Y/n, I like your energy and enthusiasm and I’d think you’ll make a great addition to our team. What would you say about me taking you on a tour around the building?” So much was going through your mind, you were ecstatic about possibly already being accepted in but after being offered a tour you felt your palms begin to sweat. Being in the office alone with him was nerve-wracking enough but now he was extending his time with you by taking time out of his busy schedule just to show you around himself. “Oh if it’s not too much trouble I’d love a tour.” You smile back in response watching as he rose from his chair. “Right this way.” He says opening the door wide for you, his charming smile catching you off guard as your cheeks turned a little pink. As you walked past him heading out the door he couldn’t control himself, taking a quick glance at you up and down before smirking to himself.
Wooyoung showed you around the various office spaces of each department pointing out key people who you would need to know. “That office right there belongs to our main editor Jeong Yunho, nice guy, easy to talk to.” You nod along as you scan your eyes over the sleek modern office spaces. From what you could see they were all laid out and decorated the same but all with their own personal touch from whoever occupied the space, personal photos on the desks and small ornaments on shelves and tables. “And over here you’ll find Kang Yeosang’s office, he’s our Communication’s Manager, pretty ironic really since he’s one of our more quiet employees.” You couldn’t help but give out a small laugh. “Now Yeosang looks intimidating but once he’s comfortable around you he’s fine, it’ll just take a little bit of time.” Wooyoung smiles at you comfortingly as he continues to walk through the office space. “This is one of your many meeting spaces.” He says turning back to face you as he gestures to the large space filled only with a long table, chairs and a projector screen. Your eyes widen as you look through the window earning a smile from Wooyoung. “Would you like to go in and have a look around?” He’d practically made the decision for you as he swipes his key card over the door opening it for you to step in. You were too busy taking in the sight that you didn’t even notice Wooyoung standing in the door way, he didn’t bother following you in he simply let you do your thing as you got familiar with the place. 
As you walked around the large space Wooyoung got lost in his own thoughts, he watched as your hips slightly swayed as you walked bringing back the memory of watching you dance in the club the night before. Of course he remembered who you were, how could he forget a face like that and even more so how could he forget the way you just shrugged him off so casually. It was no secret to anyone that he was rather popular with women and on some occasions he’d been called a womaniser, so being rejected by you and so nonchalantly at that made him feel intrigued by you. 
You walked over to the large window covering the entirety of the wall, looking out at the view of the city astonished. Wooyoung, one the other hand, had a view of his own, his eyes never left you watching you intently at any chance he got. His eyes quickly shift to the floor when he notices you start to turn around to face him, not really wanting you to think he’d been staring at you the whole time even thought that’s exactly what he’d been doing. “The view is amazing.” You beam as you walk back over to him. “Hmm? Oh yes, there are a number of offices with a view like this, if you’d like I could see if there’s one available for you.” He suggests quirking an eyebrow at you and his signature smirk returning. Your eyes widen at his gesture no believing he actually meant it, you were going to be the new person, and they normally got the standard offices and had to work their way up to get one as nice as the ones you’d seen on the tour. “Thank you so much, I don’t want to be a bother though, I’m just so eager to work here any office will do just fine, you could throw me in the basement if you wanted to.” You babbled hurriedly making him laugh. It was the first time you’d heard him laugh, it was so contagious you couldn’t help but laugh along with him and the way he smiled as he did so made your heart stop for a second. “Well I’m not going to be putting you in any basement so don’t worry about that, and if it’s the view you like then I’ll do what I can to get you one.” He finishes slipping out the door waiting for you to follow. Your cheeks turn pink again, you knew he was charming but you didn’t think he’d be like this in a work place, you didn’t know how you were going to cope.
“The last stop on the tour, the break room.” Wooyoung announced as he waked you over to a small lounge area. Just like the offices, the space was very modern, sleek black couches dotted around the room, a small marble top kitchen space and a number of modern art pieces hung on the wall, even though it looked very professional it was also cosy and welcoming. You follow behind Wooyoung stepping into the room, eyes and ears met with other employees chatting over coffee. “Just the people I wanted to see too, Y/n this is Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa, two members of our writing team, you’ll get to know them better as time goes.” You smile and give a shy wave hello to the two men stood in front of you. “Nice to meet you.��� Hongjoong says first, holding a hand out for you to shake. “If you ever need any help with anything don’t hesitate to find us, we’ll be happy to help you get settled.” Seonghwa smiles before extending his arm out to you. “Nice to meet you both and thank you.” You smile back before letting them get back to what they were doing. Wooyoung walks you around the room going through the final bits and pieces of information he felt you should know about the building before escorting you back to his office. Just as you were about to set foot out the door of the break room your attention was drawn back to Hongjoong, “Hey Y/n, keep an eye on that one he’s trouble.” He laughs nodding his head to Wooyoung jokingly making the other two men and yourself laugh. “Behave will you, we can’t be scaring off new staff.” Wooyoung laughs along with the rest of them as he gently places a hand on your back escorting you out the room.
Once you were back stood in Wooyoung’s office you felt the anxiety that had been weighing on your shoulder since the morning lift off you, no longer feeling nervous around him you felt comfortable talking normally to him. “Mr Jung...” You started before getting interrupted by him raising his hand to stop you. “Please, call me Wooyoung, Mr Jung is too formal for me.” He smiles awkwardly. “Wooyoung, this place is amazing.” You finish not knowing what else to say without you looking like an over excited child. “Thank you, it took a long time to get here but we did it and I can’t wait to have you on the team.” You clasp your hands together tightly to stop them shaking from the pure excitement running through you, this was really happening, you got your dream job. “So can you start tomorrow?” Your eyes widen as you took in his words. Tomorrow? He wanted you to start that soon? Feeling lost for words you nod your head in reply, your mouth slightly open in hopes some form of speech will come out. “Great!” He cheered as his smile covered his face. “9am start, I’ll send Hongjoong down to meet you in the morning to show you to your office.” You wanted to scream but held on tight to your composure, you couldn’t wait to tell Clio when you got home. “Do you have any further questions before you leave?” Wooyoung asks leaning slightly against his desk with his arms casually crossed across his chest. “Not that I can think of, I just really want to say thank you for this, really this is huge for me.” He chuckles at you as he makes his way to the door as you follow behind but just as his hand wrapped around the doorknob he leans in close to your ear. 
“It was nice seeing you again.” You froze on the spot, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as his breath brushed past your neck. You slowly turn your head to look at him, faces inches apart. “What?” He asked smoothly, “You didn’t really think I’d forget a face like yours now would you?” He looked at you innocently but his tone said differently, it was the same flirty tone he’d used on you at the bar, usually you’d be mortified if your boss had come onto you like this in any other setting but for some reason it was different with him, it didn’t creep you out or make you feel uncomfortable, if anything you found yourself liking the attention he was giving you. “why didn’t you mention that earlier.” You asked a little quieter than you intended, finding your words getting caught in your throat as he kept his eyes fixed on yours. “I didn’t think it was a good time, I needed to be professional.” He smiles backing away from you. “I hope this doesn’t make you change your mind about the job, I meant it when I said I’d like you on our team.” You shook your head, “It’s okay I won’t change my mind, I just ask that you don’t keep information like this from me again.” You chuckle nervously as you try to avoid eye contact. He gives a simple nod before opening the door for you. “I look forward to seeing you around.” He smiles as you say your goodbyes and walking out.
Leaving through the main doors of the building you quickly pull your phone from you pocket to call Clio. “Hey girl, how’d the interview go.” Clio sounded peppy as usual as her excited voice rang through the phone. “Are you free right now? I’ll tell you everything over coffee.” You hear a small squeal from her side before she hung up.
You sat in your usual spot at the café when Clio came running through the door flying into the chair opposite you almost falling over. “Tell me everything.” She said out of breath as she looked at you with wide anticipating eyes. “Well first off...” You paused just for effect, smiling as you watched Clio slowly leaning closer to you waiting for you to continue. “I got the job.” Clio screeched with excitement earning her a few dirty looks from other customers who were trying to enjoy their coffee in peace. “I’m so happy for you congratulations!” You can’t help but smile as you watch your best friend vibrate in her seat from how excited she was for you. “And now here’s the bit that’s going to kill you off.” If Clio wasn’t ready to explode before she was now, she hated that you kept pausing between everything you said, the anticipation was eating away at her. “Do you remember the guy from last night?” You ask taking a sip of your coffee while she thought. “Ew the creep who was basically grinding on you?” She asked, a look of disgust taking over her face. “No not that one.” You laugh almost spitting your coffee out. “The guy I told you about when we got home, the one at the bar.” It was like a light bulb appeared above her head as she remembered. “Oh the hot one that bought our drinks.” You scoff at her wording, she wasn’t wrong but now having to reference your boss as hot felt a little out of place. “Yes that one. Well it turns out he’s the CEO of Ocean Media.” For the first time since you’ve known her you found Clio lost for words, if her jaw could drop any lower she’d have to pick it up off the floor. “You’re lying.” She chuckled once she gained her composure back. You shook your head in reply taking another sip, “Nope, dead serious, google Jung Wooyoung and you’ll find him.” It didn’t take even a second for Clio to pull her phone out and punch his name into the search bar. “Fuck off!” Was all she could manage as she scrolled through the search results. “Yep, crazy right?” 
“Did he recognise you?” She asked not taking her eyes off her phone. “Well he treated me like any other person coming for an interview, he did the usual questions and even took me on a tour of the building and introduced me to some of the staff, so I thought everything was cool, until he dropped it on me that he knew who I was as I was about to leave.” Your cheeks flushed once again as you remembered how close he was to your face and the way he spoke to you. “Y/n this is insane, you do realise this shit only happens in movies right?” You laugh at her as you shrug. “Well I guess not anymore.” Finally taking a sip of her coffee, Clio starts to calm down. “So how’s that going to work for you now, you know, him being your boss and all?” You had to admit the thought never crossed your mind. “I guess I’ll have to see how tomorrow goes.”
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Tag list:   @kpopcrossworlds @kpopjust4u   @whatudowhennooneseesyou​  @8tinytings​ ​   @jenotation​ @grim-adventures58​ ​
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noteguk · a year ago
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bad behavior | jjk | m
This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone. 
— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while. 
— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day 
— words; 8.2k
— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple 
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It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from. 
In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea. 
You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids. 
So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings. 
The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons. 
You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon. 
It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place. 
One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body. 
“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”
You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.” 
“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes. 
Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect. 
Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot. 
But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really. 
“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?” 
Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.” 
You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled. 
Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.” 
His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.” 
He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.” 
“And what is?” You asked. 
“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.” 
You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.” 
Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.” 
You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container. 
Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”
“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.” 
Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.” 
You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.” 
“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”
You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?” 
Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”
You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”
“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.” 
He frowned. “Is that your answer?” 
You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”
“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?” 
“Because I like giving back to the community.” 
Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.” 
“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.” 
He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?” 
You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”
He smiled. “Not the point.” 
Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”
“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.” 
“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”
“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 
He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?” 
“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.” 
“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?” 
“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.” 
“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.” 
You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment. 
Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily. 
In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”
Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious. 
“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“ 
“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.” 
“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.” 
You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully. 
“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.” 
“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive. 
“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” 
“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.” 
He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.” 
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave? 
No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all. 
Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.” 
You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?” 
Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin. 
“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”
Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.” 
Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”
“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.” 
This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.” 
“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?” 
You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly. 
Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”
You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”
“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.” 
When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?” 
“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?” 
“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.” 
“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”
“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.” 
“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.” 
Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”
“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.” 
You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”
And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like. 
His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh. 
Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening. 
“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 
Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you. 
“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”
But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—” 
“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?” 
You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable. 
“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.” 
Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”
You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.” 
He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded. 
Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought. 
“Turn around for me,” he asked. 
You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.
The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.” 
Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”
“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked. 
You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat. 
“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?” 
“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time. 
“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.” 
“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”
He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.” 
You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.” 
But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”
“Y-Yeah.”  
Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.” 
After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”
You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”
“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.” 
There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation. 
“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface. 
Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.” 
Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”
Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”
You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”
“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”
“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.” 
“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.” 
You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank. 
So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed. 
“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?” 
“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.” 
“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.” 
Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you. 
“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state.  “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.” 
You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his. 
Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that. 
He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?” 
“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways. 
“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.” 
Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him. 
“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.” 
The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...” 
“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 
“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”
“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.” 
And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”
“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.” 
You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.” 
He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.” 
“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.” 
“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”
Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm. 
At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.” 
“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat. 
Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home. 
You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…” 
“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.” 
You frowned. “Why?”
“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.” 
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”
“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?” 
“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?” 
Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.” 
The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises. 
Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum. 
You, of course, promptly accepted it. 
“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”
“How much?” You asked. 
“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.” 
“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place. 
“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”
You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”  
“And, by the way?” 
“Yeah?”
“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”
“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time. 
BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION
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@taehyungieskith​ @fan-ati--c​ @btstrasht​ @crazy4myself​ @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky
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matan4il · a year ago
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Buddie 413 meta
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Buck talking make-up with the bridezilla is the kind of ‘secure in his masculinity’ content that I fucking love 911 for. And even though Eddie makes a face (he's on teasing boyfriend duty), right after that he basically continues along the same line of helping the bride, by pointing out she’ll have her veil to help disguise what happened. I love the lack of panic over discussing make-up and bridal veils, plus the way Buddie naturally complement each other.
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Also, the mother of the bridezilla talking about being too lenient with her made me grin. A small wink at Buck and Eddie’s exchange over what is “too much discipline” that we saw in 410? ;) Might be a coincidence, but it's still a fun little throwback to Buddie's parental discipline banter.
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David hanging out with Michael and his kids, being a part of their custom to play games together (since we learn this isn’t a new thing) reminded me of how Buck is a part of Eddie and Christopher's game nights, as seen in 309 and 403. This small parallel made me so happy. Buddie are BOYFRIENDS, confirmed (yet again). Oh, but Michael wants both David, his boyfriend, and Bobby, his best friend, to be there in order for this to be complete. Buddie don’t need anyone else there during Buddifer game nights, because they are both. And isn’t that a part of what makes Buddie so special? How many other same-sex canon ships have we gotten to see on screen who are built as both? I think it’s a part of why we want to see them become canon so much...
* * *
Another small touch that I liked was the glimpse of Eddie’s St. Christopher necklace in the dinner scene. Honestly, it’s such a nice touch of continuity and it also reminds us what a great dad he is, which fits how naturally he goes above and beyond the call of duty when helping out Charlie.
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It’s an interesting shot when Carla comes back and they celebrate her birthdays together. When she comes in through the door, Eddie and Chris hug her, but Ana is left to the side. That’s understandable, Carla doesn’t know Ana much at this point. The camera didn’t have to linger on Ana outside of this circle of love and connectedness, however, and yet it did. Then at the dinner table, we see Ana physically connected to Chris, but not to Eddie. This leads to the way Eddie talks about her to Carla. It’s “nice” and “easy”. But that’s not necessarily love. Especially this early on in a relationship, love gives you butterflies in your stomach and makes you nervous. It makes you buzzingly uncomfortable in your own skin in that good way of being hyper-aware of someone else’s presence and of everything between the two of you, because everything matters. It’s challenging and makes you gulp because you want this thing so much. And Carla picks up on the fact that something’s lacking, telling Eddie to make sure he’s following his own heart and not just staying with Ana for Christopher’s sake. The look Eddie gets after that is even more telling than Carla's words that she is, in fact, completely right. It all paints a picture that tells us Eddie’s at the start of realizing he’s with Ana for the wrong reason…
(meta and gifs for THAT SCENE under the cut to save your dashboards)
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All that would have been a lot in itself, but then we get all of this leading to Eddie getting shot while paired off with Buck. Consider how the show took pains to make sure it would be Eddie and Buck together out there in the street, even though Chim was shown to be a part of the conversation when Eddie got Charlie’s call. He and Buck are just coming in, so they’re still in civilian clothes, Buck finds it so important to go with Eddie, he doesn’t even change into his uniform before they get to Charlie. But we’re shown Chim did change into his uniform and that he didn’t come along, even though it’s clear they had a medical emergency on their hands and Chim’s a paramedic, unlike Buck and more experienced than Eddie. It would make more sense for Buck to stay at the station and for Chim to go with Eddie, but nope. Buddie are a team. Where one goes, the other one follows, even in civvies and when it doesn’t make sense. “All we ever wanted was to go together,” as Mitchell told Buck in 208.
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Then we have the way the shooting is filmed. I already screamed about the ceaseless eye contact, because it is incredible, but let me try to be more coherent about it. When Eddie’s shot, we immediately see Buck, Eddie’s blood splattered on him. Eddie’s looking down, but as the reality of the bullet piercing him starts to set in, he looks up at Buck, seeking his gaze. They hold it for a really long moment. This shot establishes the moment as a shared experience. It’s served by the contrast with the previous shot. Right before the sniper shoots, the camera is restless, circling Eddie, showing us Buck in his perimeter, but not stopping on anything. This enhances the still shot of them just standing there, staring at each other. The sound also plays into this, going from a noisy street to blocking out all human communication. It will only kick back in later. Both the camera and sound choices highlight that Buddie are having one of those moments of wordless communication that they often share, only this time it’s wordless, because there are no words for what they’re trying to process together. They’re within the same bubble of shock and emotional pain that’s only beginning to take shape.
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I can’t emphasize enough how much this shot is a romantic trope. I know the most immediate parallel is to Buddie themselves, in ep 306, because we have them similarly standing across from one another, staring at the other guy, and because we have the episode director’s confirmation that this was meant to mimic lovers' cinematography. But I think this shot is even more meaningful, with the whole build up around it and the way this turn of events is the ep’s climax, and it reminds me of other examples from TV and movies when we see would be lovers about to be torn apart, maybe forever, with the threat of death hanging over them. The most famous example that jumps into my head is Han Solo and Princess Leia when he’s about to be lowered into the pit. That’s the moment when she chooses to finally confess she loves him. It’s honestly impossible not to see the romantic trope subtext.
Now I have to add a word about Buddie’s record when it comes to the other guy being in danger. In ep 203, Buck tells Ali he’s glad not to be worried about Abby and Ali replies that it must be nice to have someone to be worried about. During the tsunami eps, we have a scene of Eddie leaving Buck a message, telling him about the tsunami and that Eddie’s glad Buck’s missing it. Buck is the person Eddie worries about in a way that parallels how Abby, Buck’s former romantic partner, was the person Buck used to be worried about. That’s pretty powerful in itself, but consider all the times they now had to stand there and watch, incredibly worried for the other man. We had Buck going crazy when Eddie climbed into a burning house in 214, Eddie watching Buck lying wounded in the street in 218 and rushing to hold his hand as soon as he could, Buck losing his mind over Eddie trapped underground in 315, and then Eddie watching the factory explosion knowing Buck’s inside and reacting by leading the charge to get him out. Now we get Buck having to watch Eddie as he’s shot and about to collapse. This scene is made all the more poignant because of all of these other scenes leading up to it. It infuses this scene with accumulated meaning and adds to the sense that even though it was only Eddie who was hit by the bullet, they’re both irreversibly affected by the bullet.
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Then Eddie collapses. The danger is still present, the sniper is still around, but Buck is so paralyzed by shock, he can’t even think of taking cover himself, Captain Mehta has to force him to do this. And then as they’re both laying on the ground, they’re still holding each other’s gaze across the firetruck between them. The whole world is narrowed down to the other man’s eyes. More than that, Buck angles his body towards Eddie, almost like he’s stupidly thinking of getting up and running to him, while Eddie’s hand reaches out for Buck. The shots deliberately captures Buck’s body and Eddie’s hand in the frame so that we see this.
When all this is playing with the lead up of Carla advising Eddie to follow his heart, when shows tend to deliver the emotional impact of a character getting hurt through showing us the person who’s their significant other (romantic partner or the person destined to be that) during this, when Ana is nowhere to be found once the emotional climax of Eddie's story in this ep is reached, despite being in the ep… All of this weaves its own narrative about who Eddie’s heart really belongs to.
When I tell you that this is fanfic material! Not only do I mean it, I mean it so much that I actually wrote once a fic where Buddie do that 'stare at each other before death might tear us apart' thing. And I’m sure I’m not the only one. I can't fucking believe 911 actually delivered the fanfic of our dreams. 
( NGL, I saw someone misspelling Captain Mehta’s name, writing it without the ‘h’, and for a second I thought I found my superhero name… XD )
Thank you so much to the unbelievable @bicepsie​ for the awesome gifs. Even when you have a lot going on, you still make these for the weekly meta posts and you’re truly the real MVP! *hugs* If you like   my takes on Buddie, you can find more of my meta and fics here. Thank you for reading, and for every reblog and like.
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egg-on-the-run · a year ago
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How about relationship headcanon’s and yes there’s cute stuff but what about realistic shizz? The good, the bad, the ugly. The stubbornness that with time one learns the art of compromise for.
I've only ever been in one relationship and tbh it was very like relaxed??? We never argued much so I hope this isn't super unrealistic.
Leonardo:
Never tells you why he's upset. It's always a guessing game and the worst part is half the time he is not upset with you
He'll have an argument with Raphael and give everyone the silent treatment while he's huffing (and it is huffing) and you spend an hour trying to figure out what you did wrong
Leonardo's confrontational about things that Do Not Matter but avoids conversations about things that are actually important
Like yeah he'll tell you if some silly habit kind of annoys him but it takes a long time for him to confess that PDA makes him a little uneasy
That's another thing: PDA is a minimum with him. Yes he will put his arm around you, yes he will hold your hand. But please no kisses in front of his family he just doesn't vibe with it
He's very nervous about a lot of things, very nervous about going on dates, doing things with you for the first time. You do have to take things slow with him and it takes a while to perfect the art of reassuring him without making him feel patronised
His love language is acts of service and quality time.
Sometimes that quality time is napping because he's prone to overworking himself
Adores it when you take control of things. LOVES being babied and taken care of
Call him something like "sweetheart" and he becomes putty in your hands
His ideal date is he makes dinner, you buy dessert. You both do the dishes together and watch a movie afterwards 💙
Raphael:
Hahaha get ready to rumble.
King of arguments, fool of never being able to apologise
You will bicker about everything to the point where everyone is like 👀👀 but the second anyone else says something? You are both wildly protective of each other
"God you're such a prick" "Yeah screw you Raph" "Casey I swear to god if you ever say anything like that ever again I will kick you so hard in the dick you'll give yourself a blow job" "Raph you're s/o is scaring me" "Casey I'm going to put your head through the wall."
Raph likes to pretend arguments just Did Not Happen. He doesn't expect you to apologise either so at least you can't call him a hypocrite, but he just prefers moving past things. It's over now. Don't bring it up again.
And yes this does cause more conflict sometimes. But you cannot date Raph and not be stubborn. If you put your foot down firmly enough he will give in and do his best to talk about things. He doesn't necessarily like doing it, but you're both stubborn and both very much in love and he's always willing to try
Much more into PDA than Leo. Likes to hold you against him, leans on you, plays with your hair. He just constantly likes to be touching you in some way, even in front of everyone
You can pull the "because you love me" card at any time
"Can you make me some coffee?" "I'm in the middle of playing a game, why would I make you coffee?" "Because you love me."
He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends to
His love language is physical touch and acts of service: lots of cuddles, he holds all your stuff, walks you to and from work
His ideal date is just him trying to teach you how to fight
Lots and lots of gym dates, exploring sewer tunnels and the city together, him letting you win at wrestling ❤️
Donatello:
Leonardo's bad at confrontation sometimes, but Donnie? If you stabbed Donnie he wouldn't complain
Donnie is very insecure in his ability to please. So he works overtime and stresses himself out. If something is bothering him you will never find out because he would rather suffer in silence than even risk upsetting you by bringing it up
His thought process is something along the lines of he interrupts you once so he thinks he just shouldn't speak. He has not connected the dots but he's certainly jumped to conclusions
It takes a very very long time for an argument to actually happen because if you try to talk to Donnie about something he will just Immediately Agree With You, even if he doesn't
But when an argument does happen he says a lot of mean things to get under your skin and you will play the very same cards when things get heated
As time goes on you both get better at having discussions rather than arguments. But when a fight happens you can go days without speaking to each other
Very protective. Likes to know you're safe. Yes it's doting and sweet, but it's also a little annoying having text him "yes I'm still at work darling" every hour
Donnie is also an "actions speak louder than words" kind of guy. No saying sorry, but he makes you a little gift and slides it across the table. No words exchanged, but you know he's sorry for what he did
Mixed feelings about PDA. Sometimes he's more than happy to let you sit on his lap, other times if you try to hold his hand he flinches
Baby is a little touch starved. He gets overwhelmed very easily and shuts you out. Some days are better than others but again, he just doesn't tell you
His love language is gift giving and loves making you little trinkets and toys to put on your desk. But he adores receiving words of affirmation
His ideal date is both of you info dumping in your room while eating pizza. It's so simple, it's so easy. Usually whenever he starts to ramble he forgets a lot of his insecurities with touch and will let you hold him 💜
Michelangelo:
King of communication. He just does not like to argue, fighting upsets him and when you're angry with him he gets a little afraid
Even if you are very frustrated he takes you by the hand and sits you down. He has it down to a routine, there's no problem you can't solve together
It takes a good while for you to break down his walls. He puts up a very fun loving, easy going front to please everyone and even when you start dating it's difficult for him to be completely open
But when he shows you his deep emotions once he's very comfortable showing them to you again and again
Needs lots of reassurance, not with regards to relationships but with regards to himself. His brothers still treat him like the baby of the family, still make him feel stupid. You treat him like he's capable of whatever and he just bursts into tears because you have complete faith in him
You do, however, understand that his brothers treat him like the baby because sometimes he acts like it
He can be a little too high energy and sometimes you just need space and he doesn't understand that it's not his fault, you're just tired.
You have a code for when he's being too affectionate. He loves PDA to the full but it is overwhelming: a squeeze on his knee tells him to calm down a little
He's such a people pleaser that you have to make most of the decisions with everything. Where you want to eat, what you want to do, it would be nice if he took control a little more.
His love language is yes and. Jk jk he praises you 24/7, pet names, compliments, worships you. Loves physical touch as well obviously
His ideal date is something arty. He takes you to find a blank wall in the tunnels and you both just spray paint 🧡
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reidscanehand · a year ago
Text
The Statistical Probability of Falling in Love
Master List to The Statistical Probability Series
Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader
Category: Fluff 
TW: Mentions of bullying, cursing, kind of a depressing mental space at the beginning, mentions of an erection, and again, like...desiring somebody beyond the realms of friendship. 
Also, good lord, he’s so awkward, so this is kind of overdramatic, but all in good fun. It’s also kind of super long because I have no filter. And I loved this request by @radtwinkie .
This request has taken me literal ages to complete and I am so sorry for that! It’s really just because I genuinely loved this request and thought it was so precious and lovely; I really didn’t want to mess it up...all that to say I’ve rewritten it at least twice, so I hope it’s close to what was imagined when requested. Thank you @radtwinkie for your patience and I hope you all enjoy! xx
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~ “Most of us have nicknames - annoying, endearing, embarrassing. But what about your true name? It is not necessarily your given name. But it is the one to which you are most eager to respond when called. Ever wonder why? Your true name has the secret power to call you.” - Vera Nazarian ~
Spencer is not a huge fan of nicknames. Part of it, of course, was the intense bullying he’d received as a child and teenager. Which was, frankly, rather hard to get past, even as an adult. He loved his BAU family, and for the majority of his time working with them, he felt loved and seen and accepted. But every so often Derek would make a comment that hit too close to home, Hotch would shut down one of his tangents with a slightly more annoyed tap than usual, Rossi would roll his eyes a little harder than usual, Penelope would seem genuinely overwhelmed, or Emily or JJ would be just a little too relieved to get to walk away as he began to ramble. It felt vastly unfair; Spencer wasn’t one to believe in karma, but there was something in him that felt like...maybe he deserved this acute loneliness. The brain he had been given, the intelligence he had...only for it to be received with...not hatred, exactly, but a sort of begrudged acceptance felt like a penance for the brain he was lucky to have, but never asked for.  
No one is perfect, but in those moments when he allows his anxieties and insecurities to get the better of him, Spencer can’t help but feel that his perceived imperfections are maybe too much? 
JJ is overly competitive, but Will loves that about her. Hotch is borderline humorless, especially when it comes to the job, but both Beth and Haley were able to see beyond that. Rossi is sarcastic, too wry sometimes for his own good, yet he is loved and respected. Derek can be testy to the point of meanness, and yet he always seems to be showered with affection by Penelope and many, many women. Penelope is quirky, sure, but always adored and never doubted. Emily could be borderline cruel and yet still manages to maintain a level of intimacy with the team that Spencer just does not seem to have. So, though nobody is perfect, Spencer is worried that he is so imperfect that his brain has muddled himself a hole he will never be able to leave. It feels like an absolutely hopeless situation...that is, until he meets you. 
It was after a particularly gnarly case in Los Angeles that Strauss decided to hire a new communications liaison. The publicity surrounding the case was fierce prior to the BAU’s arrival, but their involvement only brought more attention. The case was incredibly complicated and the investigation dragged on longer than anyone wanted it to. The press was practically vicious by the time the thing had been solved and, upon arriving back at Quantico, the whole team was shuffled into several meetings with Strauss regarding how best to handle press moving forward. Strauss didn’t want to add anyone to the team, nor did anyone else, really, but after an exploratory meeting with you, she was impressed and you were hired. 
Had it been literally anyone else in the universe in your position, Spencer’s convinced they would’ve fallen flat on their face. The team really didn’t want a new member, Emily and Derek were borderline hostile about it prior to your arrival, and Penelope was so nerve wracked by change that her thoughts flew from hacking every piece of technology you owned to hugging you like a teddy bear in a matter of seconds. Spencer himself didn’t love change. The balance of life at the BAU was temperamental at best with the type of work they did, so the addition of anyone was jarring. However, from the moment you walked through the glass doors of the BAU, Spencer knew everything would be alright. At least, for the rest of team. He was well and truly fucked. 
First of all, and rather most importantly to Spencer, you’re super nice. Not just “nice”, but rather so nice that the word itself feels inadequate. After your first case with the team, you noticed that Hotch was having a hard time. Well, everyone noticed (they are profilers, mind), but you were the only one to do anything about it. Spencer is still unsure of whether you were unaware of Hotch’s incredible reserve, or you’re just so kind you weaseled your way around it, because when you offer him a hug before boarding the jet, he not only accepts it, but leans into you and reciprocates. He thanks you for it. The team is dumbfounded. Not to mention the absolutely cracking job you’ve done of handling the publicity surrounding the case. You’re quick to underplay your work on this one, but it was a rural town in Mississippi and you handled the delicacy of the case with a level of grace and tact that blew everyone away. Thus, secondly: you’re rather mind-blowingly excellent at your job. Spencer swears you could be a profiler with the capacity you have for human emotion. Whether it be a newspaper reporter, a grieving parent, an obnoxious local television personality or the unsub’s family, you seem to have a knack for talking to people, making them comfortable, and keeping the entire team safe, well cared for, and out of harm’s way in the public eye. Spencer even heard JJ mention to Emily that, had you always been the communications liaison, the BAU’s position in the bureau would never be questioned. And finally, though Spencer’s a little ashamed that he has such a fixation on it: you are incredibly pretty, which is always just a little hard for Spencer to get around. And had you behaved like everyone else, he would have acclimated to it, as he had with the other attractive women he worked with. But, the thing is...you don’t behave like everyone else. 
~~~ 
It’s on your first case with the BAU that it happens. 
Spencer’s been careful not to say too much around you. He desperately wants to make a good impression, though at this point he’s not sure why. He wants you to...like him, he supposes. Not in a loving way (not yet, anyway), but just in a generally pleasant “you’re not so bad” kind of way. Thus far, to his mind, he’s gotten away with it. It’s sad, really, that he almost feels as though he has to pull off a trick, a magic trick of sorts, in order to make a good impression with new people. Truly, you’re so kind and lovely that he could probably be himself and you’d still like him, but that’s something Spencer’s not very willing to leave to chance. He’s cut himself off on at least three different tangents since the case started, worked carefully to correct people in a more gentle manner than usual, and allowed his answers to come at what feels like a more natural pace than he typically would. Hell, he even shook your hand when he met you, just to stave off what Spencer feels is the inevitable stasis of weirdness he’ll be in when you finally get to know the real him. He’s fashioned what he hopes is an appealing version of himself in order to get to know you. He’s damn near head over heels for you already, but nothing prepares him for this. 
While he’s worked hard to cut back on The Reid Effect in order to keep you at arm’s length, the Mississippi heat and intensity of the case are waning on his determination quicker than he’d like. There are obvious burns on the victim, dumped unceremoniously in a creek in a woodsy area, but the burns had gone unmentioned by the local cops prior to the BAU’s arrival to the scene. As it’s your first case, Hotch pairs you with Spencer and Rossi to go to the most recent crime scene to get a feel for the back and forth with the BAU and the local police department. Spencer can feel the sterile version of himself falling back with every second as the local PD prove themselves to be relatively useless. 
“The burns,” Spencer says, slowly, trying to forestall his corrective nature. “Why weren’t those mentioned in the initial reports?” 
“Oh, we assumed those were from the sun. Exposure, ya know?” answers Sherriff Riley. 
“That seems a bit...farfetched,” Spencer corrects, carefully, ever so slowly. 
“Now I know y’all don’t know nothin’ ‘bout the Mississippi sun, but-”
“Actually, this area of Mississippi sits in the 2 to 3, low to moderate range of the UV index, meaning that, while it’s advised to cover up on bright days if you’re prone to burning and wear the suggested average 30 SPF sunscreen, which is the average SPF suggested for the majority of the country, it’s not that far removed from what you’d find in Quantico or D.C. In fact, in a wooded area like this, it’s almost entirely unlikely that someone would sustain burns of this nature.” It’s out before he can stop himself and Spencer cringes inwardly at the quickness with which the facts fall from his mouth. He can feel you looming behind him, can almost feel your breath hitch as Sherriff Riley stares at Spencer blankly, attempting to take in what he just said. As is typical when this occurs, Rossi steps in.
“Basically, we think the unsub is burning them as part of the signature,” Rossi explains. 
“Oh,” Sherriff Bailey says vaguely. “Okay. We’ll let the medical examiner know, then.” Rossi smiles and steps toward another part of the crime scene, diverting the attention of the Sherriff. Spencer gulps, his throat suddenly dry as you sidle up next to him. 
“How did you know that?” you ask, quietly. Spencer can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s terrified that he’ll see some form of ridicule or rejection in your eyes and, even in the mildest of forms, his not really sure he could deal with it. 
“Um,” Spencer begins, awkwardly. “I have this...eidetic memory thing?” He cringes inwardly again as he phrases this fact as a question because he feels kind of ridiculous. 
“What does that mean?”
“It’s like...I’ll read something, or even, sometimes see or hear something, and I just...remember it. Auto-didacticism, to some extent,” he answers, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.
“Like, forever?” you ask. “You remember stuff forever?” He gets it together to look at you because your tone is confusing to him. You’re not being rude or teasing him, you’re just genuinely asking questions.
“Uh, kind of...I don’t forget much,” Spencer says. “I can also read really fast, so I gather that information at a relatively rapid rate.” 
“How fast do you read?” you ask, turning your body to face him. Spencer stares at you for a moment, sifting through your facial cues and mannerisms, perplexed at the honest curiosity you’re exhibiting. 
“Well,” he swallows, scared that, at any moment, this genuine air of interest that you’ve granted him will shift into something he’s more used to. “20,000 words a minute.”
“Wow,” your eyes widen. You look down for a moment and smile to yourself. “You’re a proper genius then, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I don’t really believe that genius can be quantified-”
“That sounds like something someone who’s definitely a genius would say,” you tease, gently. 
“Then I guess I am a genius...because I did just say that,” he responds quietly. You stare at him for a moment allowing a gorgeous smile to play on your lips before throwing your head back in the prettiest laugh he’s ever heard. Spencer feels a grin growing on his face because you’re not teasing him meanly, but playfully. And you’re not laughing at him, but with him, at a joke he made. And he’s pretty sure you’ve complimented him. You, a pretty and sincerely nice woman, just complimented him, Spencer Reid, awkward nerdy man that he is, in the woods on an FBI case. And he made you laugh. And now he can’t stop grinning. 
“Got any other facts or figures for me?” you ask, again, so very genuinely. He just stares at you, unsure of what to say as his brain can barely comprehend what’s happening, let alone come up with a singular fact or statistic. “Seems like I’ve got you tongue-tied, Stats,” you smile. 
“Stats?” he asks, cautiously, your kind stare not allowing the bona fide grin to move from his face. 
“Do you mind if I call you that?” you ask, a sudden hitch in your cadence making Spencer recognize that you’re also nervous. “It’d be nice to...have a friend, you know?”
“Stats, huh?” he whispers to himself, his grin not abating. “I'd love that, actually, Y/N.” 
“Cool,” you smile, giving him a look that he’s damn near sure he’d kill to keep. “You feel free to make up a nickname for me too, if you’d like, Stats,” you say, walking away. 
And now Spencer knows he’s in trouble because he literally can’t stop grinning. Even when the case gets harder, the idea that you want to be his friend...that you think he’s worthy of a fun nickname, that you might think he’s interesting, that you’re - dare he believe it - playful with him.... he simply can’t wrap his head around it. 
~~~
It happens more often than he’d like to admit and being the baby of the BAU family (even though, much to his annoyance, you are definitely at least a couple of years younger than Spencer and he is still considered the baby) comes with its price. And when you’re a certified genius in possession of an IQ of 187 and the social skills of a scared butterfly, things like this tend to happen. For Spencer, it’s really not a big deal at this point. 
The team has been called to help the Sacramento Police Department due to a string of medically coerced heart attacks. The unsub is forcing heart attacks on his victims by delivering them an overdose of caffeine. The victims are all mild caffeine addicts, either drinking excessive amounts of coffee, tea, or energy drinks which the unsub is lethally dosing with absurdly high amounts of the stimulant. At the roundtable, Spencer chimed in with the average amounts of caffeine found in typical sources: 80 mg for the average energy drink, anywhere from 50 to 235 mg for the average black coffee - only to be cut off. He’s used to being cut off, either verbally or, as had just occurred, a gentle tap on the arm from Hotch. What he isn’t used to is your response. The briefing is over, everyone breaks to gather their go bags and prepare for the incredibly long flight to Sacramento when he feels a gentle pressure against his back, right in between his shoulder blades. He turns and almost smacks into you. 
“God, you have long legs,” you say, “you’re almost impossible to catch up to, Stats.”
“Sorry,” Spencer replies, not ever quite sure if people are joking or not. 
“Long legs are a virtue,” you correct, whether you’ve caught on to his apprehension or not, Spencer’s not sure, but he appreciates it either way. 
“How can I help you, Y/N?” he asks. He still hasn’t come up with a nickname for you. As you’ve grown closer over these past few cases, he’s not sure what to call you. You seem set on a platonic friendship, though he’s very quickly gained a completely understandable crush on you, meaning that his ideas on nicknames are tending toward the rather overly affectionate variety. Plus, your name suits you. It’s just as lovely and perfect as you seem to be, anyway. 
“I was wondering, Stats,” you begin, awkwardly, “if you could finish what you were going to say.” 
“What do you mean?” Spencer stares at you, a little lost in your eyes. 
“The average amounts of caffeine thing you were saying,” you amend, staring up at him all wide-eyed and curious again. “I was listening and, um, I think Hotch tapped you or something and you stopped? It seemed kind of rude, to be honest, but...well, I wasn’t quite done learning yet.” 
Spencer is so dumbfounded he can barely speak, let alone recall the average amounts of caffeine found in typical sources. You want him to finish a statistic. A borderline meaningless, completely random fact that he knows from a glance at a newspaper or medical article. You caught up to him in a hallway, nearly chased him down, to learn something from him. He opens his mouth to speak, the beginnings of a sound dying in his mouth. Once again faced with your abject kindness, Spencer finds that he can’t quite string two words together, much less finish his thoughts from moments before. 
“Have I done it again, Stats?” you grin at him, all twinkly and precious. 
“Done what?” he rasps out, still in a daze of confusion. 
“Rendered the resident genius speechless?” you sweetly tease, that delightful smirk toying with your mouth again. It takes Spencer a second to realize he’s straight up staring at your mouth rather than responding. 
“Uh, yeah,” he manages to say. “Uh, yeah”? What the fuck? His mind is moving again, but not in a helpful way. 187 IQ, my ass. “I guess you have.” 
“That’s kind of fun,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. You look back up at him and Spencer is once again bowled over by the fact that you’re just being kindly playful. You’re not being mean or even too terribly jokey, you’re just...God, you’re so sweet. “It’s nice to be able to keep you on your toes.” 
All of my body parts - tip to toe - will be at full attention as long as you keep looking at me like that, he thinks, jarred by the abrupt, ever-so-slightly salacious turn of his thoughts. He’s suddenly very aware of how very pretty you are, how good you smell, and how playful you might be in- 
“Is it?” he gasps, the air finally deciding to reappear in his lungs as he attempts to break through any thoughts of you in his bedroom. Despite how delightful those thoughts may be. 
“Yeah,” you say, wrapping an arm through his and walking you both toward the bullpen to gather your things. “It’s a nice reminder that even geniuses are human. I’ll hit you up for facts just to keep it interesting, is that all right?” You can hit me up for literally anything and I will worship the ground you walk on, he thinks, but all he can manage is a kind of nod. Spencer swears his body is on fire from your touch, but he feels almost sad as you begin to pull away. You squeeze his arm and look down before deciding to continue. 
“Just know that I’m always listening to what you say. No matter what it is,” you reassure him. And as you walk away, it’s not his sexual attraction to you that plagues his mind, it’s the fact that Spencer’s falling in love with you. 
~~~
Spencer had been quite certain that, almost a year into knowing you now, your relatively regular habit of sneaking close to him to ask him for a quick statistic or fact would assimilate his entire body to your presence, but no such luck there. You do it more regularly now, and Spencer’s very nearly got the hang of it. Part of it is the closeness, this he knows. And it has nothing to do with his semi-germophobic tendencies and everything to do with the fact that his lungs can’t seem to get used to how absolutely gorgeous you smell. And his eyes can’t seem to get used to how beautiful you are. And his ears can’t seem to get used to how melodic your voice is. Again, IQ Points? Almost entirely useless for something of this nature. 
At this point, he’s relatively sure you know the effect you have on him. It’s pretty hard to miss. He knows this because, obviously, he’s an incredible profiler, but you also both work with a bunch of incredible profilers who have all noticed your effect on him. 
“Seems like Pretty Boy has found himself a Pretty Lady,” Derek sing songs one afternoon. You’re all on the flight back to Quantico from a successful case in Montana. Despite the fact that you've most definitely just entered the jet’s bathroom, Spencer nearly throws his back out as he whips around in his seat to make sure you don’t hear. 
“I have not,” he defends, lamely, his cheeks burning. 
“Oh, come on, Spence,” Emily tags in from across the aisle. “You’re pretty obvious.”
“Well, obviously not, because she doesn’t know. And if she does, she clearly doesn’t want the same thing, so will you please, please not say anything?” Spencer knows he sounds frantic and desperate, but if any of them ruin...whatever this is between you, he’ll almost certainly kill them. JJ stares at him for a moment, her eyes widening at his panic.
“You don’t think Y/N likes you?” JJ looks genuinely surprised, as does Derek and Emily. 
“Not...not in that way,” Spencer murmurs, pretending to brush some lint off of his sweater so he can look away from them all. 
“Kid,” Rossi jumps in from his spot across from Emily. “She calls you Stats.”
“It’s just a fun nickname-”
“You always sit with each other on the plane.”
“I just sit near her, it’s not usually the other way around-”
“You hang out with each other outside of work.”
“I don’t have any other friends and she takes pity on me-”
“Reid,” Hotch says from his seat near the front of the craft, not looking up from his paperwork. “Don’t be dumb. You’re way too smart for that.” The conversation thankfully dies as you reenter the cabin, returning to your seat next to Spencer. He gives you a quick smile as you return to your book. He also tries to pretend everyone isn’t staring at the two of you, but it’s hard considering they’re all being annoyingly obvious. About twenty minutes later, you put your book down. At this point, JJ and Derek have fallen asleep, and Emily looks no more than a few minutes away from it. 
“Hey, Stats,” you whisper, very close to his ear now. So close that he’s pretty sure you can feel the heat from his blushing cheeks.
“Yeah?” 
“What’s the statistical probability of you allowing me to use your arm as my pillow right now?” Your playful smirk is toying so preciously with your lips that Spencer thinks he might agree to a root canal if you asked. 
“100% likely,” he smiles, trying not to sound giddy. 
“Thanks, Stats,” you sigh, laying your head on his arm. Your breath evens out rather quickly. Spencer attempts, he really does, to focus on his book, but the gentle weight of your head, the sweet smell of your shampoo, the adorable scrunch of your nose as you dream, all give way to him giving up on the book and deciding to simply stare at you. Stare at you in awe, it would seem.
“Don’t drool, kiddo,” Rossi whispers, “it’s unseemly.” 
“I’m not drooling,” Spencer argues weakly, his hand twitching with the desire to check whether or not he’s actually drooling. 
“Listen, Reid,” Rossi says, moving to sit across from you, next to a sleeping Derek. “I may not know what it’s like to have an IQ of 187, or an eidetic memory, or be able to read 20,000 words a minute, but I can imagine that it can’t be easy to wander through life with that kind of brain.” He glances at you and, as if on cue, you snuggle slightly into Spencer’s arm. Without thinking, he wraps his arm around you, thankful the armrest is already up, as you snuggle into his side, a small grin decorating your pretty face. Spencer stares at you, unabashed affection in his gaze. He looks back up to Rossi who is watching the scene before him with a wistful smile. “I’m sure it’s not easy to wander through life alone with a mind like yours. And if I had a girl like that-”
“But, I don’t have her, Rossi,” Spencer whispers, the truth of the statement creating a gentle, but unignorably present lump in his throat. He swallows, trying to keep it together. 
“I think you do,” Rossi disagrees. “Look, I know we tease you from time to time, and I’m sorry if that ever goes too far, but...if I may: don’t let this pass you by. Y/N is the only person I’ve ever met who fully recognizes and celebrates how lucky we are to have you. And that’s something you can’t lose, kid.” With that, Rossi stands, crossing back to his seat. 
Spencer rubs the back of his free hand over his mouth now that Rossi is looking away. He wasn’t drooling, but he knows he might as well be. Because he’s in love with you. And it’s a fact he’s been avoiding admitting to himself because he’s not at all sure what you’d do with this information. Or what he will do with this information.
~~~
The jet touches down in Quantico and Spencer gently wakes you up, but you’re so tired he lets you lean on him, nearly carrying you from the plane. When you get into the office, Hotch quietly orders Spencer to drive you home as you’re far too tired to get there safely. He agrees because he kind of planned to do that anyway, but it’s nice that he doesn’t have to bring up the concept to you. He gets your keys from your desk, and leads you to your car on the parking deck. 
Spencer helps you into the passenger seat, and you immediately are fully asleep again, which leads to him buckling you in. Your nose scrunches up in your sleep and, without thinking, he leans forward and places a gentle kiss on it. You groan slightly in your sleep and Spencer snaps his head back, hitting it on the roof of the car.
“Fuck!” he yells in pain. Your eyes pop open, suddenly very awake. You take in the scene over you with a great deal of confusion, as Spencer looms over you, clutching the back of his head. 
“Spencer!” you yelp, “are you alright?” 
“Yeah,” he grunts through gritted teeth, “just superb.” 
“What are you doing?”
“Um,” he winces, pulling his body out of the car. “Buckling you in to take you home.” 
“Oh,” you say. “Did you hit your head? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers, now lying to you and himself. “Let’s get you home, Y/N.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking deck, heading toward your apartment, which happens to not be too far from Spencer’s, a fact he is not proud to be thrilled about. You’re about five minutes down the road when you speak up again. 
“You still don’t have a nickname for me, huh Stats?” you tease. In the dark of the car, Spencer can’t see it, but can hear the smile on your face. He’s also relieved that you can’t see his renewed blush.
“Can’t say I have, Y/N,” Spencer smiles.
“And why’s that, Stats?” You sound like you’re fully enjoying yourself, but he’s still amazed at your ability to tease him without being mean. 
“I don’t know,” he states, surprising himself with his honesty, “nothing seems to suit you.” 
“Oh, really?” you counter. “Let’s see, I used to be called lots of fun and horrible things...my family calls me Y/N/N, which I actually can’t stand, but you knew that one. I got called ‘Four Eyes’ in school when I first got glasses-”
“Same here,” Spencer mumbles. 
“Ah, kids are nothing if not somewhat unoriginal,” you joke. “A mean girl in middle school called me ‘The Grotesque Girl’.”
“Seriously? How...why?” There are many words that run through Spencer’s mind when he sees you and not a singular one involves the word grotesque...or any of its synonyms. He’s rather horrified that you ever had to deal with that.
“Um,” you murmur, your voice slightly quieter now, “I don’t know. I’m not the prettiest of girls, and I most certainly wasn’t back then-”
“Y/N,” Spencer interrupts, trying not to sound as utterly in love as he is, “you’re one of the most beautiful women I know.” For the first time in a long time around you, he feels himself cringing inwardly at his overly honest admission. 
“You have to say that, Stats,” you say, somewhat wistfully, “you’re my friend. Besides it’s alright,” you perk back up, “not all of us can be as gorgeous as you.” 
“Y/N,” Spencer speaks slowly, trying not to reveal too much, even though his resilience is waning fast. “Please understand that when I say you’re one of the most beautiful women I know, I mean you’re actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“Stats-”
“I will brook no arguments,” Spencer insists, attempting to turn the conversation back toward more lighthearted fare. “I’m a genius, remember.”
“Well, fine,” you joke, and Spencer can hear the smile in your voice again. “I suppose if genius thinks I’m beautiful, I must be.” You’re quiet for a moment before speaking again. “You know I call you Stats in, like...a nice way, right?”
“Of course,” Spencer answers quickly.
“Good,” you whisper, partially to yourself. “I just...I know that bullying can be rough and kids call each other names and just...I...”
Spencer pulls into your apartment complex and turns off the car, looking at you as you stare forward, clearly trying to decide what to say. 
“I just so highly respect you,” you whisper. “And I know that you still get teased and you still get... I know that it can be really rough sometimes. And I never want you to think that I’m...making fun of you. I just want you to know that you always have a friend.” 
Spencer feels the tears forming in his eyes and he can’t confidently tell if it’s because of how overwhelmingly genuine your reassurance was, because he’s exhausted, or because you’ve, in the space of about ten minutes called him your friend twice. And he loves being your friend, really, but he has now admitted to himself that he wants to be way more. He covers your hand with his own and squeezes it. You squeeze back and his heart is melting. He sniffles, trying to control himself.  
“Let’s get you to bed, Y/N,” he manages to say. Spencer gets out of the car, grabbing your go bag from the back. 
“Stats,” you say, as you get out of the car, “how are you getting home?”
“Oh, I can walk from here,” he says, vaguely, rather looking forward to the ten or twenty minutes of silence to contemplate how best to work on his aching heart. 
“Would you,” you start, clearly a little unsure of yourself. “Would you maybe want to stay here?” 
Spencer doesn’t trust himself to respond. His brain and body feel as though they’ve separated in this moment. There are so very many thoughts running through his brilliant head and half of them make him blush. In this vast chaos, his body opts to simply stare at you. You look away for a moment, contemplatively, then look back at him. 
“It’s really late,” you continue, “and it’s kind of cold. And, not to be selfish, but it would give me far more peace of mind if I knew you were safe.” 
He looks at you, ever in astonishment at the utterly uncomplicated quality of your kindness. He simply nods, grabbing his go bag as well, and follows you into your apartment. He’s been here before, but this time feels entirely different. More intimate and intense, though he’s fighting at the feelings, trying to quash them with every breath. You easily convince him to share your bed. He’s mildly pleased by the fact that he pretended not to want to for about five seconds longer than he thought he would. As Spencer gets into your bed, you scoot closer to him than he thought you might. Arm to arm, leg to leg, you begin to doze off, which is the only reasoning he can give to the fact that you turn your body in towards his as you fall asleep. He watches you for a moment, allowing himself to prop his head on his arm and unabashedly admire you. 
“Got some facts about sleeping for me, Stats?” you ask, yawning, barely awake.
“Sure,” Spencer whispers, finding it easier to speak to you now that your eyes are closed, “you got enough energy to hear them?”
“I just like hearing you talk,” you admit. Another flutter pokes Spencer’s heart. 
“Alright,” he says, glad you can’t see the heart eyes he’s sure he’s giving you. “Um...humans can survive longer without food than they can without sleep. This discovery is mostly attributed to the 19th century Russian scientist, Marie Mikhaïlovna de Manacééne.” You hum in response and he smiles as he continues, “She conducted one of the earliest experiments on extreme sleep deprivation. She found that when she deprived puppies of sleep, they all died within four or five days, despite every effort to keep them alive, like food and water.” 
“That’s sad,” you breathe, the cutest pout in the world adorning your face. Spencer clears his throat. 
“Hmm, no more dying puppy facts, then,” he jokes, ashamedly proud of the breathily delicate giggle that escapes your lips. “When you sleep, your brain sort of unifies all of your thoughts and skills. So it reorganizes and strengthens when you sleep. That’s why sleep is important.”
“Mm, m’glad you never get a full night’s sleep then,” you hum. “Imagine if your amazing brain got a full night’s strengthening sleep? You’d be unbeatable, Stats.” 
“I think you’ll find I’m pretty unbeatable now, Y/N,” he jokes. You snuggle slightly closer to him, rendering him almost breathless.
“S’not true, Stats,” you tease. “S’why I like to keep you on your toes. S’fun to see you speechless for a second.”
“I’m not speechless right now,” he half-heartedly argues, just happy to have you so close to him. He can hear the slight tremor in his voice and hopes you’re exhausted enough not to pick up on it. 
“'Cause I’m indisposed. Half asleep Y/N isn’t at her full powers of genius incapacitation.” 
“Big words for a sleepy baby,” Spencer breathily laughs. 
“Mmm,” you hum into his arm. “You should call me that more often.”
“What’s that?”
“Baby,” you whisper, your voice fading as you fall further asleep. Spencer can’t breathe. This is too much. It’s so intimate and you’re so warm and beautiful, and you smell so good, and you just told him to call you baby. 
“I can’t call you that, Y/N,” Spencer mumbles, almost hoping you don’t hear. And the universe seems to take pity on him as you’re finally fully asleep. 
~~~ 
He may be a genius, but it always takes Spencer’s brain a second to click on when he wakes up. He’s actually spent an embarrassingly large amount of time thinking about this brief span of time between sleep and full awareness. He wonders if, due to the substantial abilities of his brain, it might take his brain a longer time to catch up to his body when he wakes up. He’s also wondered if it might go faster because of his brain’s capabilities. This thought process briefly cross his mind when he opens his eyes and it takes him a few minutes to fully process where he is. And the fact that you’re still asleep next to him. 
Next to him is a generous term for what you’re really doing. You’re nestled so closely into his side that Spencer’s scared he’ll wake you up if he breathes too deeply. As if aware of his thoughts, you nestle your head impossibly deeper into his chest, and it’s so precious that Spencer’s suddenly worried his now pounding heart might wake you up. He’s just happy he’s got a shirt on. If your head nestled into his bare chest, he feels positive he’d never recover. He returns his head to the pillow, finding that it slots just perfectly above yours. And that’s when the universe decides to turn the intensity up a few notches. 
“Mmm,” you hum into him, a sound that rumbles through Spencer’s chest with a warmth he’s only dreamed about. “Darling.” 
What. The. Fuck. 
Spencer blinks ten times, rapidly, not convinced he’s awake. He allows his eyes to flicker towards you. You’re still asleep. You have to be, you would never-
“Mmm, Spencer,” you keen gently, eyes still closed as your nose proceeds to give his chest an Eskimo kiss. He’s going to have a heart attack. This is it. This is the end. He’s going to have a heart attack and die, right here and right now. He’s equal parts terror and absolute joy as your arms snake out from their spot beneath your head, reaching towards him, one slipping behind his neck, the other finding a home on his chest. It’s then that everything goes south. Spencer assumes that you actually thought you were dreaming and the reality of touching an actual breathing human was so shocking that that’s what actually caused you to wake up. 
Your eyes flutter open, staring at his chest for a moment. You squeeze your eyes tightly, only to open them again a moment later. 
“Good morning,” you rasp, clearly uncomfortable, but still unmoving. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer lies, his voice gravelly with first use. “Why?”
“You’re trembling, Spencer,” you whisper, your hand pressing into his chest with an ever so slight pressure. Oh, that he was fully aware of as he’s trying desperately to control his body’s natural reaction to you, nearly pulling his hips off the bed as he pulls his groin away from you. 
“I’m fine,” he responds, surprisingly evenly for such a tremulous situation. “I need to...go to the bathroom.” He gets up and thinks he manages to mask his...issue, thankful that you have a guest bathroom. Once in there, he slams the door shut and turns on the sink as loudly as possible, allowing himself release...a release for which he feels mildly ashamed, but he eventually cleans himself up and reemerges. 
He’d assumed you’d be in your kitchen, but when he walks in there, you’re nowhere to be found. Spencer sighs deeply, because he knows you better than he knows himself and he knows that, because you’re not in the kitchen, he’ll find you sitting in your room, still in bed wanting to talk. Because he knows you know something’s up with him. 
He adds coffee grounds to the machine and water, turning it on before crossing to your bedroom, to what feels like inevitable doom, at this point. Because he didn’t pull away from you this morning. Because he stared at you until he fell asleep. Because he can’t come up with a simple nickname for you because he wants to call you something altogether more loving than what he’s sure you’ve envisioned. Because he’s in love with you and he’s worried you now know. His steps feel heavy as he walks towards what he’s sure is the inexorable begrudging acceptance he’s managed to avoid for a year. Spencer can feel a lump forming in his throat with the idea that your kindness to him might transform into the mildly resentful behavior of the rest of the team. He’s not sure he could bear even a slightly snide remark from you. It might actually kill him. He enters your room and you look up at him, a bewildered expression on your face.
“Spencer, are you okay?” 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sniffs, trying not to cry. His voice is still thick and heavy. It feels like it’s not in his body, as though the sound is coming from somewhere else. He can only really hear his heart, pounding so loudly he can hardly hear anything else. A warmth encompasses his middle and he looks down to see you, your arms wrapping around him, your head pressing into his chest. He wraps his arms around you as the tears begin to fall. 
“I don’t want you to hate me,” he chokes out, really crying now. 
“Darling, why ever would I hate you?”
“Because...because I ruined it, just like I ruin everything,” he sobs. 
“Sweetheart, you never ruin anything,” you coo, rubbing delicate circles into his back. 
“No, I do,” he cries, clinging onto you tighter. He doesn’t want to. He wants to run away, to go hole up in his apartment to try and get over this, but you don’t let go and he can’t seem to make himself let go either. “I ruin everything because I can’t...I can’t be normal. I can’t stop thinking, can’t stop remembering...my brain will never slow down and that’s-that’s why I can’t-”
“Shhh,” you breathe, pulling Spencer closer, if possible. His head nestles its way into the crook of your neck, but you don’t pull away. You begin to tangle your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently combing through it. “Darling, you never ruin anything. Oh my goodness, you brilliant genius, you. You make everything better just by being yourself. And I’m so sad that you can’t see it that way. Normalcy is overrated, anyway. And why else would you be so important to the team? So important to me?” you continue to ramble and Spencer continues to cry, the rumble of your voice calming the rougher edges of his anxiety. “Oh, baby, how long have you felt this way?”
“Forever,” Spencer manages to croak. “Until...until I met you. You make me...you make me feel better. Like it might be okay to...be me.” 
“It’s more than okay to be you, darling. It’s absolutely wonderful,” you whisper. It’s at that moment that it hits him, squarely in the heart. He pulls up his head and stares at you. Your eyes are glassy, your lips set a gentle smile. 
“You called me...you called me ‘darling’. Y-you called me ‘sweetheart��. And...and ‘baby’,” Spencer rasps, not letting you go. It’s barely a question, more of a statement because he can’t quite comprehend what’s happening. 
“Yeah,” you let out on a huge sigh. “Is that alright? A bit more intimate that ‘Stats’, but...it seems more appropriate.”
“How-” Spencer falters, not wanting to let himself believe it. “How is it more appropriate?” You stare up at him, a curious look in your eyes as you consider his face. He can’t breathe anymore. 
“Because I love you.”
Spencer is pretty sure his heart explodes. Because he’s staring at you, profiling your every micro expression, every look in your eyes...and you’re telling the truth. A grin tickles its way onto your mouth. 
“Have I done it again, Stats?” But he doesn’t respond. He cups your face in his hands, taking a deep, elated breath before closing his lips over yours. After what feels like an eternity later, he pulls back from you, but doesn’t let you go, pulling you into an impossibly loving embrace.
“I love you,” Spencer whispers. “I love you so, so very much.” He presses a kiss into your shoulder, into your cheek, into your temple, and another on the top of your head. You giggle into him and it’s like he’s floating on air. 
“I’ve loved you for so long, sweetheart. I thought you knew, I thought you didn’t feel the same way-”
“I couldn’t...believe that someone like you could love me. That’s why I couldn’t come up with a nickname for you because all I wanted to call you was-” he cuts himself off, afraid he’s going too far. You run your hands up his chest, cupping his face in your hands and pressing a small kiss to his jaw.
“What did you want to call me, darling?”
“My love,” he says, so tenderly it feels like the air could break it. The sweetest smile he’s ever seen grows on your face. 
“You are the most extraordinary person I know, Stats,” you say, wiping away the residual tears on his cheeks with your thumbs. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be quite enough for you-”
“You’re perfect,” Spencer interrupts. 
“Nobody’s perfect, Spencer-”
“You’re perfect for me, my love,” he corrects. A beautiful blush glows on your face. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. 
“I could easily say the same about you, darling.”
~ “Nobody is perfect until you fall in love with them.” - Unknown ~
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butchlinkle · a year ago
Text
art block, writer’s block, “art funk”, “burnout”, yada yada... it’s all the same thing, being a creator and wanting to create but having some kind of a wall preventing you from doing this.
this wall can take a lot of different forms, and i’m going to approach this post from the perspective of a visual artist, but no matter the medium, we all have a skill we’ve trained ourselves in and what I’m talking about will apply regardless.
Anyway as I said there’s a few different forms this wall can take. Here’s a few of them that I can think of:
Disillusionment with your current skill level
A loss of direction
Fatigue
Lack of drive
It’s really important to identify exactly what your wall is if you want to be able to dismantle it. This isn’t every way it can manifest either, just the most common ways that I see it manifesting, and you might have multiple at once!
Take some time to really self reflect on what the problem is if none of these are resonating after you’ve read the post, whatever it is you can find a way to manage it.
The most common advice I see for “defeating [creator’s] block” is committing to spending like five minutes a day working on something, anything at all. And that’s good advice! but not really for creator’s block, I think.
It’s GREAT advice if you’re lacking in discipline though, like I can easily get distracted and not work on things for months. So committing to work on comic related things for at least 30 minutes a day (and having this commitment be to other people that I’m checking in with each day, i think thats an important part) has worked really well for me, personally.
But I wasn’t dealing with any kind of a block, I just lacked discipline. I don’t think it’s very useful if for example, you hate how your art looks so you don’t want to draw anything anymore lmao
With that in mind, lets go through that list and I’ll try give you some advice from my experiences, and hopefully it’ll help give you the means to identify the problems you’re struggling with and find solutions to them if my advice isn’t quite what you need.
---
1. Disillusionment with your current skill level
So! it’s time to pull out everyone’s favourite graphic! this version was created by shattered-earth on deviantart, though the original is by Marc Dalessio
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obviously this says art, but again this is applicable to all mediums. It’s an important concept to understand, the idea of a creator’s high vs a creator’s low depending on how developed your critical eye has become compared to your skill level.
If you’re not aware of it and don’t understand what’s happening, it’s REALLY easy to lose all motivation to create anything. Because why bother, if everything sucks? Definitely one of the most dangerous blocks you can run into, I think.
The solution, as with all of these walls, is to be kind to yourself.
Your critical eye improving is emotionally taxing, but it’s also an opportunity for great growth! It’s not easy, though. To get through it, you have to really confront what you don’t like about your work and target your weaknesses, and then you have to put in the time to try and improve them. That’s tough.
But self study doesn’t have to be a solo activity. Talk with your friends, seek out communities of creators, and follow resource blogs, channels, etc. I really think the best thing you can do is surround yourself with other creators, I’m in a few discords and hang out in the creative section of various forums etc
But this is really important: The act of targetting your weaknesses in order to improve them is going to make it REALLY easy for you to lose track of what you like about your work, and can in fact compound the issue and make you only focus on your flaws.
So, be kind to yourself. If you’re not happy with what you create, take the time to critically analyse your work. What don’t you like? What do you like? Don’t lose track of what you like while you study the things you’re less confident about, and with some patience and work your skill will catch up with your eye again.
I really can’t emphasise enough how important it is to not lose track of what it is you like about your work. The biggest motivation killer is always going to be falling out of love with your work, so do everything you can to prevent yourself losing the joy of creating.
Like, sure, a work might be technically perfect, but did you enjoy yourself while creating it? If you always ensure the answer to that is yes, the mismatch between your critical eye and your skills will be easier to handle because at least you’re still enjoying yourself, you know?
---
2. Loss of direction
An issue you might run into while spending all this time studying your weaknesses and improving your skills, is a lack of direction with your work.
Your technical skills are improving, but you’re just not happy about where your art is going and you’re left with this generally disatisfied feeling despite not seeing anything technically wrong with what you’re doing.
Thankfully this isn’t too difficult to solve once you’ve identified it! Take some time to gather up works by others that really resonates with you, and look back at your own work and pick out the things you like. Then spend some time contemplating, something about it all really hits. What is it? If you can find it, if you spend time trying to really capture it, you’ve found a direction again. Hold onto that, and if you ever find yourself losing your way, go through the process all over again!
A hurdle you might run into with this is, like, if you’ve focused on developing a particular style for your work. Don’t be afraid to try something new while you try capture what resonates with you, you don’t have to pigeonhole yourself into one way of working if it isn’t bringing you joy any more!
And also, don’t be afraid to try something COMPLETELY new. I’m by and large a 2d visual artist, but sometimes I just need to do something different. So i explore things like 3d modelling, I don’t really post my writing but I do do a lot of it for comics work, and i’d like to dabble a little more in music............ anyway point is, try something new if you’re bored LOL
i think there’s a lot of value to be had in trying out something you have no/less experience in. Like, when your focus on one particular skill that you’re really good at, you set your standards higher and higher and its exhausting reaching them all the time.
Picking up a new skill you have no experience in whatsoever, it gives you opportunity to just be really bad at something and have fun with it, and also, you get to have the joy of improving again because it’s so much easier to improve at something you don’t have a lot of experience with!
It doesn’t even need to be a creative skill, I just think it’s nice to step away and do something different for a while. You might find your new direction doing this, or in stepping away from things for a while you might remember what drew you to your original medium in the first place, and you’ve regained your direction.
---
3. Fatigue
Fatigue is a rough one. As I said before the solution to all of these is to be kind to yourself, and that very much applies here.
Personally speaking, my unmedicated adhd is at constant war with my chronic fatigue and general health so I have this tendency to work in really intense bursts and be left with long periods of exhaustion after the fact. Not ideal!
My personal solution for balancing out my intense drive to create things and my very limited amount of energy was to heavily strip back my process. The best way for me to explain this is probably like... i took the standard art process:
rough sketch > cleaned sketch > lineart > colours > shading
and I went rough sketch > cleaned sketch > lineart > colours > shading
in other words, I stopped doing anything beyond a sketch and just spent time trying to improve my line quality so that my rough sketches would be clean sketches, thereby turning 5 steps into one single step. Which meant i could get ideas out with the energy level i had!
and then a couple years ago, missing working in colour but rarely ever having enough energy to colour my sketches, I went
rough sketch > cleaned sketch > lineart > colours > shading
which is to say, i just stopped drawing lines entirely which let me work in colour again.
Now, like, this is a very personal solution to dealing with my fatigue. I can’t really tell you how to manage your own, because I think it requires identifying
what about your work it is that you need to convey what it is you’re trying to capture.
what about your work is especially taxing and exasperates your fatigue.
And what this means is going to be very different depending on you, and also your particular medium of choice.
But once you figure out what it is that you need and what it is that is taxing you, you can strip everything back so that you only have what you need and the amount of taxing work you’re doing is as minimal as you can make it.
Remember, if your work conveys what you want it to convey, it’s a successful piece regardless as to how polished it is.
So really identify how much you need to do to create a successful piece, and remind yourself that finished is better than perfect.
---
4. Lack of drive
For me, the reason I have such an intense drive is, like.... if I don’t create what I want to be created, who will? I’ve gotta take matters into my hands if I want to get what I want, you know? Nobody else is gonna cater to me.
So I think, if you’re struggling with finding the drive to create anything, I’d write down the stuff you want to exist.
What is it that you find lacking? What isn’t being created that you want to see? How can you be the one to fill that void? Constantly trying to fill this void is why I never run out of ideas for things to create.
I’m being vague here because it could be literally anything. if you asked 12 year old me id have given you a list of cool dragons i think should exist, and thatd be a great list! because then id have a list of cool dragons to draw (which is what i did most of the time actually)
if you asked me now, id give you a list of character and story concepts, and boy you’ll never guess for what reason i spend all my time writing and making comics LMAO this bitch is GAY and will make GAY BITCHES
So yeah. If you’re struggling to find the drive to create, lacking in ideas and inspiration, sit down and think about what you want to exist that doesn’t exist. you have the power to make that real!! how can you fill that void?? literally any answers you come up for that are ideas you can work with. and the more you tackle it the easier itll get to make ideas.
---
ANYWAY..................................................
thats my advice on how to get through blocks. i hope it was helpful, and if nothing else helps you realise that creator’s block is not just some nebulous force that you have to wait to go away, but something with a root you can identify and smash to pieces with enough stubbornness and a sledgehammer
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mindofharry · a year ago
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Harrys favourite sex positions.
request hc of harry’s favorite sex positions 🤲🏽
smut!! fluff!!! fuck, i love this request because i can experiment with so much stuff!!! anyways, i hope you enjoy. feedback is welcome as always <33
Missionary
This position is something harry is fond and familiar with. Missionary involves intimacy, and boy does harry styles love intimacy. He loves seeing your face as you cum, the way your eyebrows raise, your eyes squeeze shut and bite your lip. It’s a sight that could make him cum without any sex at all, it’s just a plus side.
He loves communicating with you during sex too. When he’s face to face with you, he can see all your body movements etc. Harry also loves eye contact, it’s a big thing for him with sex. It turns him on way more than it should.
“You gonna take all of me?” Harry asked as he thrusted into you, hands on either side of your head. You nodded closing your eyes. Harry brought one of his hands to your cheeks tapping it softly.
“Look at me when i’m talking to you” Harry said sternly, you opened your eyes as harry thrusted again. “Fuck” You moaned grabbing onto his hair.
Another reason why he likes missionary so much is you pulling at his hair, or caressing his cheeks. He just loves touching you and you touching him. Harry craves that sort of intimacy, it’s the main part of your relationship. Intimacy is so fucking important to harry. Whether it be sexual or just hugs. He needs it.
Harry's tip is teasing your bundle of nerves, you don’t understand why he always pulls out and puts you both through the torture of teasing. You think he finds some sort of pleasure in it - you do not. He likes to see your face, the way it contorts as he teases you, more like punishing to you though.
“Want to see your face again when I thrust into you” He said and you whimpered, Harry smirked at the sound. “You always sound and look so hot when i first slip in. So beautiful” he said teasing, your slit again. You can see how red and full of pre-cum his cock is. You just want him to pound into you, is that too much to ask for?
“I’ll give you what you want” Harry smirked, pounding into you with no mercy. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a moan that he’s never heard from you.
That has him nearly cumming.
Doggy style
Doggy style is another one of harrys favourites for sure.
Although harry loves seeing your face, he also loves pulling at your hair and holding on to your hips. He loves to just pound into you relentlessly. Usually you guys do this after a dinner date or when you’ve been teasing eachother all night. As i said, harry loves and craves intimacy. But the minute you start teasing him, he’s got you turned around and your cheeks red from spanks.
Harry grabbed your neck, pushing your neck down so your head was against the pillow. your hair was in a ponytail so he had easy access to it all. He liked pulling at your hair, it also gave you a lot of pleasure. His hands slid their way down the front of your stomach and your back. You shivered at his touch.
Harrys hands grabbed onto your hips harshly, making you moan. You loved how rough he got. His nails dug into your skin, fuck that’s going to leave a mark but right now you really couldn’t care.
He then pulled your hips up his core so that you were in doggy style.
Harry was teasing you, like you were doing just hours ago. His cock was making its way up and down your slit, you just wanted him to thrust into you with no mercy at all. But you know Harry loves to play dirty.
After what seems like hours of harry teasing you and your soaking wet pussy, you felt his thick cock slide roughly into you. You screamed with pleasure, and Harry groaned, wrapping his hand around your ponytail.
“You feel so fucking good” Harry moaned, as began slipping deeper with every thrust.
“Fucking love you so much”
Cowboy
Harry loves this position, because you get the best from it. You cum so fucking hard each and everytime you ride him. And harry loves it too of course, seeing your face as you cum, your tits bouncing and the whole bed shaking.
You really go all out.
The way it stimulates you, in every single fucking place makes it yours and his favourite. So you try not to do it a lot, because you want to keep that pleasure. But you are sure as hell going to ride your boyfriend like no tomorrow on his birthday. This position gives you the control and him something nice to look at. Harry is let’s just say, obsessed with your tits. Even in a non sexual way he always has something nice to say about them. You’re in the shower, “Fuck, my girls look amazing with water on them”. You’re out on a trampoline, you can just feel his stare on your chest.
If either of you have been gone a little longer than usual he’ll come to bed and snuggle.... you and the girls. “Missed you” he’d mumble, and then a little quieter “and them”.
“Lay down, honey” You instructed, Harry smirked and happily complied with your instructions. He knew he was getting birthday treatment. He fucking loves birthday sex with you. You give it a whole new meaning, you go all out. You treat him with presents and stuff all day and then ride him like there’s no tomorrow? He's one lucky guy.
You take off your shirt, you’re not wearing a bra. But that much was obvious. Harry was drooling over your hard nipples during the drive home from his parents house. You know how to tease a man, he’ll give you that.
“Love my girls” Harry said as you sat on his lap, he’s fully naked mind you. You can feel his cock twitch as you sit on it, your panties the only thing in the way. Harry moans and takes one breast in his mouth, your head goes back in pleasure. Again, he’s obsessed with your tits. He gives the love they deserve.
After getting yourself comfortable, you move your panties over to the side and grab Harry's cock without any warning. You slammed yourself down on it, taking the entirety of his length all at once. Harry's eyes widened and his mouth opened, but no words came out. You’re a fucking goddess, he decided as you bounced up and down on his hard, cock.
“Holy shit” He moaned, his hands holding your hips and guiding you up and down. You bit to your lip, moving faster. Your breasts were moving up and down so quickly, and your hair was all over your face.
Harry moved your hair to the side and grabbed your face as you began to slow down your pace, that only made him want to cum even more. You were slow with your pace, Harry moving his hands from your face down to your ass grabbing them to push you down harder.
“Fucking love when you ride me” Harry whimpered and you nodded, moving faster because harry was guiding you to do so. “Love it so much. i feel so good, right?” you asked and Harry nodded, pecking your lips.
“So, so good”
Harry fucking loves all of those positions. But he loves them because it’s with you. He loves the cowboy, because it’s you riding him. He loves missionary because it’s you he gets to watch cum and scream. He loves doggy style because it’s you he gets to hold onto.
It’s always you.
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cinnamonest · 5 months ago
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Thank you for enabling me to shamelessly make my third soft dom sadist Kazuha post, bless you //obvious sadistic tendencies, mentions of mental health, choking, pet stuff, spanking, anal, forced orgasms/overstim, nipple pain, our boy is a degenerate ---- Going on the modern AU concept of this post (also drawing from this post), picking up where we left off... he has to slowly get acclimated to allow himself to enjoy it. Kazuha had to get over the mental block himself first. At first he felt a lot of disgust with himself... as it turns out, though, the more you jerk off to something, the easier it becomes to accept that you like it! Who would've thought. So by the time he gets you, his guilt is minimal -- it does flare back up a bit the first few times, but he gets over it quickly, orgasms will do that to you. At first, his voice wavers, he hesitates, his hands tremble, he apologizes every few seconds... not that he stops, no. You're still at the stage where you're being very quiet, he gets that... transitioning to a new lifestyle is rough. He'll do his best to help you get adjusted. He has a little list in his head of all the things he wants to try, at least once. Of course, some restraints are the bare minimum of necessary, even if it weren't for kinky purposes, he needs some nice soft leather handcuffs, he's sure you'll like those better than the duct tape you're currently bound with, right? Except the issue is that while he's on the website (a specialty website rather than just amazon or anything like that, gotta be top quality!), he can't help but let his eyes wander... they have so much available stuff, it would be a shame not to get some of it, you know? Which is how he talks himself into buying quite an expensive amount of various things... luckily for you, he's still got you blindfolded, because you might panic worse if you could actually see some of the things he's clicking on. Just browsing and clicking and looking at the example images has him hard as a rock, fills his head with mental imagery. It's a couples activity -- you find out very quickly he's very touchy, now that you're official, he likes to sit in bed next to you, legs and arms touching while he browses. But you will still panic, because he asks you a few questions, since of course he wants you to have a say. Wood, rubber, or leather...? Ah, well, he'll get all three... the feeling of impact is supposed to be different for each one, supposedly, which means you'll have different reactions, and he'd hate to miss out on seeing one. The sound is supposed to be different too, the way a leather strap sounds smacking skin is supposed to have an entirely different sound than a rubber paddle, which sounds different from a wood paddle, and so on. Oh, and a riding crop too... and they have those thin canes specifically for caning... Well, he'll just have to get one of all of them. Unfortunately for you, he also is an out-loud thinker, so he says all of this very clearly while sitting right beside you. But it's okay!! Or so he says when you make a panicked little noise. He says not to worry, he wouldn't go into this blind. He cares about you too much. He's done a lot of research. Which is true. Kazuha ends up really getting into the whole "bdsm culture" online, the little communities that he reads religiously, because the information and advice he reads helps... and it reminds him that this is normal, plenty of people like it, so he has no reason to feel bad. It feels comforting... it removes any doubt from his mind that might have clouded his judgement. Just have to follow the... what's the little ruleset saying those communities have again? Safe, sane, and uh... hm. Can't remember the last one. But the thing about all of his "research" is that he seems to have selective reading. His eyes somehow manage to skip over the word "some" and surrounding words quite a bit. Beatings can be cathartic for some. Pain and pleasure go hand-in-hand for some women, some of them can orgasm from pain. Some girls really like anal. Some people really get off to being choked. After all, "some" usually just means ones who have learned to enjoy such things or have found the correct conditions to make it good. With enough time and practice and patience, he's sure you two can find out how to make it good for you, too. He's like a kid on Christmas when the box finally arrives in the mail, there's a knock on the door and he perks up and goes scampering over to the front entrance, comes back beaming from ear to ear with the package in hand, runs to grab a pair of scissors and starts demolishing the packaging to get to the full collection of purchases.  You, on the other hand, are staring with wide horrified eyes because all you see are what looks like medieval torture instruments. You almost wish he didn't decide to take the blindfold off today.
However, he's not the type to go for super complicated contraptions, or anything requiring a lot of patience or assembly, so no machines or anything like that -- his tastes lean more towards very straight-to-the-point objects and restraints. Cuffs for your wrists and ankles and restraints, some with elastic parts that hold your legs or arms in place, some made to hold your hands behind your back, some that cuff your ankles and wrists together so you're stuck in a specific position, etc. An alarming amount of what you dreadfully realize are merely blunt impact objects like crops and paddles, multiple bottles of lube, plugs of increasingly dreadful sizes, a ball gag, nipple clamps, a vibrator. Just looking at it all makes you feel a knot in your stomach. He can tell from the look on your face that you're not exactly enthusiastic. He knows it probably looks intimidating, but he promises it actually will make you feel really good, if you just relax. Besides, you've had the duct tape for several days now ever since he brought you here, it'll feel good to finally get something a lot softer, yeah? There's another object, too, that arrives a few days later... what looks like a dog collar...? Your face scrunches up in disgust when you make the obvious connection that it's not for a dog (a dog collar wouldn't need to have a lock on it...). Kazuha reassures you not to worry. You're clearly thinking it will be uncomfortable right? No, see, it doesn't have any hard plastic parts like a real dog collar, and it's made of super soft material too, you'll get used to it very quickly. He even got it in a nice pink color, thought it would be nice on you. And rather than a dangling metallic piece, he just got his name engraved directly onto a metal plate fixed to the front instead. This one was special, custom-made! Unfortunately, you still put up a bit of a fight trying to put your collar on. He ends up having to hold you face-down on the bed and loop it under your neck to secure it behind your head. Really, you can relax. It's not worth being so upset over, soon you won't even notice it's there, promise. It looks so pretty on you. You then say something about how you're 'not your fucking property'... ah, so that's how you see it. No wonder you're upset. You associate that word with objectification. Don't worry, you're not property in an object sort of way... just as a pet. Just because they're property doesn't make them any less loved. But it would be difficult to argue you're not owned... after all, see, the collar has his name on it, and he feeds you and takes care of you, and, as you've already discussed, you aren't mentally fit to be self-reliant, you need to have a guardian... which is more or less the same as an owner. The collar will also make it a lot easier with to choke you while he's railing you from behind, too. He has to take separate sessions to compare how it feels, and ultimately, the collar is worth it. Having his hand around your throat is very nice, but the collar gives him a better grip where he can just slip his fingers underneath and use it to pull you back, which lets him buck his hips forward into you that much harder. At first, it's a lot of simpler things like that. Pulling on the collar, a soft bite here or there, a nice smack to your ass while he fucks you. The more time goes on, the more confident and comfortable he becomes, and starts gradually spiraling further and further into depravity, trying more and more of the things he's fantasized so much about in his head. Firstly, the nipple clamps... they were a bit difficult to put on since you didn't want to hold still and kept trying to kick him, but he still made sure they aren't too tight, he's made sure of that. And when he gives them a little tug, you stiffen and wail and you clench on his cock so hard it nearly makes him cum on the spot. He likes to have you on your knees, but with your hands tied behind your back, so that you're leaning forward, but he can hold you up by grabbing the collar on your neck or the spot where your wrists are bound to each other, or just keeping an arm wrapped around your waist, either way keeping you from falling flat while he can fuck into you from behind. Give the chain connecting the clamps a nice little tug every few moments and shudder with each spasm of your walls on his cock and squeal from your throat. Yes, one of his favorite parts of your pain is how you clench. Unfortunately, some things can only be done in positions where he's not inside of you, but those that he can do when he is, are euphoric. He shudders and his hips buck forward, sometimes he has to come to a full stop and shiver for a moment just to not cum too soon. He ends up buying one more thing, a few weeks later... a leash. It attaches to the collar perfectly. He thought back to this porn he saw once where they had the girl on her hands and knees, fucking her from behind and yanking the leash to pull her back with each movement... he can still visualize it perfectly in his head, for some reason that one really stuck with him. It was a fantasy he came to so many times thinking of you. That's why he specifically searched for a durable leash... it proves to be even easier to pull you back with than the collar by itself. And maybe, just maybe, sometimes if you've been really bad, he starts to visualize in his head that maybe he could have you crawl around on your hands and knees while he leads you around... that's not too weird, right? He has to do some internet searching to confirm, but yes, turns out that's definitely a thing people are into. And as long as he can confirm that he's not the only person in the world who likes it, he can tell himself that it's normal and fine. On that note, another thing Kazuha comes to realize -- and you do too -- is that he likes it when you do something bad. Not because he's happy about the thing you did, no, he tends to have conflicting feelings in that regard... He's upset, but realizing you've done something bad -- something punishable -- immediately sends the blood rushing to his cock. He's Pavlov'ed at this point, and it infuriates you both to acknowledge it and that he initially denies it -- the fact that he looks forward to it. He used to feel guilty about it for a while, but then he came to his senses -- it's teaching you how to be better and do the right thing, isn't it? It's instilling good behavior. So it only makes sense that he'd take pleasure in the punishments, because they're helping you improve, and there's no reason to feel bad because it's only natural to take enjoyment in giving your ass welts -- ah, rather, in knowing this is just a step to improvement. He knows it hurts. Really, he knows, and he's sorry, but the opportunity you present him with is too great, and besides, it just helps make sure you don't do it again, yeah? He's not going overboard, either, no, it may seem excessive, but it's just because he wants to be absolutely certain the message sinks in. And yet, he's so sweet. So, so sweet that it drives you mad with fury and makes it so much more humiliating. So sweet that it feels degrading. He makes you choose each time you earn yourself a punishment. If it's mild enough, he can just use his hand (which is also very nice, he likes seeing the shape of his handprints on your skin, and of course the hand is so mild that it's okay if he just does it for pleasure sometimes), but otherwise you have to choose the instrument -- if it's a mild to moderate offense, you can take a belt or the riding crop, or if it's worse, he has multiple paddles by this point, some rubber and some wood, or the nice whipping cane he bought, but either way you're presented with a few options and have the choice between them. You still haven't figured out which ones hurt less, it all feels more or less the same at the time. He makes you choose the number too -- rather, how many you think you deserve. If you gauge a number obviously too low, he just sort of sighs and adds five more to discourage you from doing so. But you only have to count out loud if you're really bad. And still, the sweetness is sickening. He gives you little words of comfort and encouragement the whole time, each soft attempt at comfort only making the humiliation and pain seem that much stronger. It's okay. You're doing so good. It'll be over soon. It only infuriates you more, that he has the gall to say such comforting things while still humiliating you-- Just a few more. I know it hurts, but it's for your own good. You, of course, tend to hurl insults his way... namely, you call him a disgusting freak and tell him you know he gets off to it. It's not as if the accusation is easy to brush off, especially because he often prefers to have you in his lap and bent over a knee (unless it's a cane, in which case you kinda have to be bent over some surface), and you can quite literally feel his throbbing cock digging into your stomach. The pinkish tint to his cheeks and the heavy breathing and the way he shudders when you wail doesn't help his case, either. So, he's not in a position to deny getting off to it... but he just says you're deflecting, and that that doesn't matter. Come on, you're not supposed to be thinking about things like that, you're supposed to use this time to reflect on your own actions... so mind your business. Besides, after a dozen or so, you stop being able to say anything, you just sob and sniffle and cry out with each swat. But more importantly... you don't even need to have done anything bad. Sometimes, he's just helping you to... get all the negative emotions out. He's read a lot about it. Sometimes, all that frustration just builds up. Sometimes, you need it because it helps you get all that out of your system. It's cathartic, non-sexual even (for you, of course, he'll still get hard). Not that it has anything to do with the fact that you've gotten better behaved (the punishments do work, after all) and that there's less instances to punish you for, so he needs an excuse... no, he's just become more informed. And you can tell when you've convinced him you need one of these cathartic sessions, you've usually just finished a raving spiel of anger so strong you're trembling and your voice has gone hoarse from yelling at him, and you just see him calmly tilt his head. I think you're pent up. You must be stressed out. And you know what fixes that? A few dozen hard swats to your ass with a belt... and then a nice embrace, holding you while you cry, and then a nap, maybe. It seems to work -- you're so exhausted by the end of it that you go limp and numb while he's holding you and nearly fall asleep. See, you're so quiet now. You hate to feel like it worked, but you certainly do feel empty, no fight left in you at all. You don't even shove him away when he holds you, which clearly just goes to show that you understand it was good for you. But it's not as if you just take that, no. When you see that look on his face and know what he's thinking, you tend to try and run. He knows it should upset him, maybe it does a bit, but he finds himself enjoying that. He lets you run. His head is too clouded with growing arousal, it gets his blood pumping when you try to bolt into another room and he has to drag you back to the couch. It's some primal predator thing, he guesses. So he stands still for a moment while you bolt and try to go find somewhere to hide... not like you have a lot of options. It's sort of cute, in a way, because it's so short-sided. Even if you could hide, you have to come out eventually, you know. But you being afraid is kind of cute, too. Thinking that you're trying to hide from him makes him hard again, for some reason. Is it bad to be turned on by your fear...? No, he quickly pushes the thought away, it's only natural, because once again, it's all leading to a good outcome in which you improve, and that's what turns him on so much, he supposes. Whichever specific aspects or parts of the improvement process make his cock twitch and send sparks of lust down his spine is an insignificant detail. He's once again so, so sickeningly sweet when he gets to you, finds you curled up somewhere trying to hide, you thrash around the moment he drags you back up to your feet. No cruel or mocking teasing, just a soft come on, don't be like that, you know this has to happen... the sooner you come with me, the sooner it'll be over... Outside of the punishments and necessary cathartic sessions, though, he has a strict policy, one that helps him absolve himself of any and all guilt. He rationalizes it and justifies it to himself so that his whole sense of right and wrong depends on one little thing, and if that condition is met, he can go on without a shred of guilt... that is, that you cum each time. Provided it's not punishment or the like, it's okay if you don't cum then, because that's how punishment works. But other than that, as much as your pain makes him hard, pleasure does too, he loves seeing you cum. Besides, he read online that orgasms create pair bonding and emotional closeness. He tries a few different ways, and a few days into your new life, he decides to do so in a sweet, intimate way (see, he doesn't always need to hurt you), and soft and lazily too, just laying by your side and slowly rubbing circles against your clit... And when you cum, he just presses down harder and rubs more firmly, because he's not sure where the end point of orgasm is for you. And then, you let out a little cry. Your legs spasm and kick and you try your hardest to pull away and you whimper that it's too sensitive. He gets a little confused in the aftermath as you talk to him, and you shake your head and the word overstimulated comes out of your mouth. You don't consider until after you swear you see his pupils dilate that giving him a word to identify the act with might have been a mistake. The poor thing was unaware such a thing existed, he somehow managed to avoid seeing such content back when he was spending his days with his hand, but the google search results are very clear in not only defining it to him, but clearly demonstrate that plenty of people are into it, so he's definitely not weird at all. It's just that you're highly sensitive at that point, it's not doing any real damage. So to test it, the first thing he tries is just that wand vibrator he's been meaning to use (he keeps it locked up, don't want you getting any ideas of using it on your own)... gets behind you and lets you lean back on his chest (with your knees bent and ankles tied to the headboard). It doesn't take long to make you cum from that, and once you do... he just keeps holding it without moving it at all. Of course, you squeal and twitch and try to kick your legs, but he just holds you still, murmurs soft and sweet words in your ear that you're doing really well, just hold still for him, you're so cute and he loves you so much... you settle down after a few minutes have passed, and soon, you're cumming again a second time! And the squeals this time are louder, higher, more intense, you only do what comes natural and beg for it to stop, but at the same time, the begging is just another turn-on. You can feel his cock throbbing against your back. You don't remember how many orgasms you had altogether. He was so sweet about it though... he kissed your neck and kept saying such encouraging things, called you such sweet names. He always does, it makes you feel sick. Princess. Sweetheart. Angel. You'd hit him if you could. So it'll be more difficult, but next he wants to try with his tongue and his fingers, too. He's already learned how to make you cum that way, now he just has to... not stop. So he doesn't... he sucks and laps until you have that telltale quivering, your thighs clamp around his head, your back arches and your whimper -- and as you begin to settle, he just grabs your hips and pulls your back closer to his mouth, and ups the intensity. 
You try to pull away, you kick your legs in the air and you plead and you squeal and you beg and it's so, so, so much more euphoric with your legs wrapped around his head and his face stuffed with your cunt. Every sound you make just makes him press harder. And no matter how hard you thrash, you can't knock him off, he's got your hips in his grasp like his life depends on it. He doesn't even end up able to get his cock inside you that time, he's so turned on he just ruts his hips into the sheets until he cums before he intended to. So now, if he's really busy, yet you still have behavioral issues to be dealt with, he has a little routine that can still take care of your behavioral issues. Clothespins on your nipples, tying your hands to the headboard and your legs behind your head, and taping the vibrator to your clit. The tape makes sure it doesn't fall off, of course. By the time he comes back, with that same soft smile and sweet voice as always, he asks if you're okay... you're a twitching mess, of course, and look at that, you're so wet it's soaked the sheets through. Haha. He thinks that's really cute. He looms over you, reaching to turn off the vibrator and pull it off your now-practically-numb clit, and gives you that soft, gentle, sweet smile that, at this point, makes you want to rip his head off every time you see it. And sometimes, if he's just busy with work, he can sit there with his laptop on his lap in bed, clicking things with one hand... the other holding the vibrator on you, or curling his fingers inside of you while he works, with you spread eagle and bound hand and foot. He likes casual things like that, too, he finds it even helps him concentrate. Oh, and back to the idea of oral... he really likes the sound of you gagging and choking. And if he wants to hear that, what better way to do so than on his cock? Specifically, his favorite is having you on your back on the edge of the bed all blindfolded and head hanging off the edge where he can grab it... that way he can see the bulge in your throat. But, he's such a good owner to you, because he cares so much, he's very observant and makes a point of having awareness, so that if you start to go limp and stop moving, he'll pull out immediately to check on you and let you breathe... and if you want, he'll even just put you back on your hands and knees and finish inside one of your other holes, to give your mouth a break. And speaking of that... he waits a little while first, gets out all the stuff he wants to try with his cock in your tight pussy first, and only then can move on to your ass instead. Not that it isn't evident early on that he'll do so eventually (something you dread as soon as you realize it), and that he has a little bit of a fixation with it. Even when he fucks you normally, often with your face down and ass up in the air, he likes to shove a thumb inside, it's yet another thing that makes you clench so nicely for him. Even from the start he bought a ton of plugs, some of which make your stomach twist just to look at... they're just there to help stretch you out first is all. That way it'll be easier for you to take him. And they create a nice pressure inside you too, having both holes stuffed all at once when he fucks you normally. And look, this one even has a cute tail attached to it. It matches the collar nicely. And yes, he did happen to buy matching ears on a headband... come on, it'll look really cute on you. Don't worry. It'll be fine, or so he says the first time he actually fucks your tight, twitching little hole instead. Sure, you're only used to the feeling of fullness, and not of actual friction of back-and forth movements, but he bought a lot of lube so that makes it okay. Of course, you'll still need to be flat on your stomach... that way there's no where you can run and you won't be able to pull yourself off! See, if you were on your hands and knees, you could arch your back inward or pull yourself forward, and if you were on your back you could thrash and writhe and pull yourself backwards. But this way, the only thing you can do is lay there and take it. Isn't that more convenient? And although it induces some guilt, he has two favorite things about stuffing your ass... one, the way your legs spasm and drum against the mattress with each kick, the way he can feel your body stiffen and your hips lurch forward trying to pull yourself off, but the mattress beneath you means you can't, the way you struggle and struggle and eventually your body gives up and goes limp when it realizes you can't do anything but take it. And two, the (for him) euphoric, orgasmic squeal you make when he shoves himself inside of you. It's always among the loudest, highest noises you make, and he would know, he listens so carefully. But he could never be mean. No, of course he'll tell you how good you are, how tight you feel, how you're taking it so well. Tells you to relax, it won't hurt if you just stop fighting him so much... although part of him doesn't want that. You're so much cuter when you're squealing, when your face is all scrunched up and you have tears leaking and spilling down your face. But see, he'll even reach around, rub at your sensitive little nub and roll your nipples between his thumb and finger to feel better for you. Perhaps that's the way that makes him cum the fastest, the most pleasurable, and yet so hard to achieve, seeing you in pain and pleasure all at once, it's heavenly, two sights that are both euphoric to him at the same time. He likes how it is when he pulls out, too, your poor abused hole spasming and twitching, cum always spills out. Besides, he can alleviate the guilt when he remembers that you'll get used to it -- see, the girls in porn don't have any negative reactions because they've been doing it for so long. You just need to keep doing it more and more often, and you'll start liking the feeling too. Maybe the next time you act up, the punishment can be that he won't fuck your pussy or mouth for a week or so... yeah, that sounds like a good plan. And don't expect slowness. He tries at first, to remember it's different and he can't go as hard... but he forgets. Gets lost in the ecstasy of it. He rails you just as hard as if he were inside your cunt, hard and fast and full force, so much so the flesh of your ass ripples every time his hips smack into it. You beg and whimper, but he's just too lost in bliss to listen. Something he doesn't do too often, though, is gag you. He bought a ball gag, yes, but he tends to leave it off... it's unfortunate because when you can't close your mouth, he can hear your sounds more clearly, but then he'd miss out on... well... after a while, he gets to eyeing that collar more and more, his mind drifts and he blushes a bit -- it's always so strange, which things he's shameless about and which things he gets embarrassed over seem to be out of order from most people. But nonetheless, he's just pounding into you from behind one day, when he pulls the leash back hard, pulling you up off your hands, he wraps his arm around your waist and slams into you so hard you feel like you'll break and he tells you in between heavy pants in a strained voice to call me Master. It's a bitter word on your tongue. You suppose the reason you say it without putting up much of a fight is out of the intensity of the moment, or perhaps fear of consequence. Either way, you don't have to say it too many times before he grabs your hips and snaps his hips forward one more time, a soft noise coming from his throat as he stills and pants and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He always has those little noises -- it seems like such an unexpected contrast to the firm strength and fierce, overwhelming sense of dominance and control. You would expect maybe grunts and growls, but no, he has the softest noises, quiet little whimpers and high-pitched little murmurs. Sometimes you feel like one of these days he'll sprout ears and a tail, considering the puppy resemblance you can't unsee -- with his soft high-pitched sounds and his big bright eyes and his eagerness and soft cuddly nature, and yet here you're the one calling him that word that makes your stomach feel sick. Another reason for not gagging you, is that he can't kiss you like that. And that's the thing about all of it, every single thing, what makes it all better and yet so much worse is the kisses. He likes kissing, it's a big thing for him. It's an urge. When you squeal and clench on his cock, it's a moment of euphoria and ecstasy and all he can do is grab your jaw and plant his lips on yours, passionate and intense. He grabs the back of your head to make sure you can't pull away. When you cry and when you cum and when you scream and whimper and fight him, the only response he has is to latch his face onto yours, get his tongue in your mouth, there's desperation and emotion so strong you can feel it in the movements. Likewise, Kazuha tends to not degrade you. He hurts you, he's so rough with you, he brings you to the brink of the full intensity of physical sensation, abuses every part of your body and leaves you sore and spent, and yet, perhaps what actually makes it so much worse is that he's so sweet. He says he loves you while he chokes you. He tells you you're beautiful while you thrash and cry. He gives you the softest kisses and caresses to the same skin that's burning or throbbing with soreness from beatings and bites mere moments ago. He always holds you afterwards, tells you you did a good job, that you took it so well, that you're so pretty and so soft and warm and that he loves, loves, loves you. And you love him just as much... don't you? You'll be laying in bed facing each other, and you see his eyes slowly open as he asks, even in the dark. You didn't love him before... remember? He did so much for you and yet you still ignored him all the time, you were mean to him, you basically cheated on him because you were more or less already partners when you slept around... remember that? But now that you're here, you've clearly been improving, since he took you out of an environment that was detrimental to your mental health. He's already forgiven you for all the things you did. He says wouldn't have done all of this for you if he didn't love you. He'll get you baths and food and water every time when you're done, he takes care of you and kisses you and cuddles you. He loves to hold you, wrap his arms around you, squeeze you tight, fall asleep with you in his arms. You're so warm. It almost feels wrong, it confuses you, how he can go from this sweet puppy-boy behavior, affectionate and hugging and cuddling at one moment, clingy and desperate for love, so gentle, and the next moment he's pounding you so hard the slaps reverberate off the walls and his hand is around your throat -- and yet, that softness is there all the same. Your mind can't wrap around the notion that these two people, the one that hurts you and the one that's so soft to you, are one and the same. Either way, every night you end up crying against his chest and falling asleep in his arms as he tells you he loves you all the same. He reaches forward to kiss your forehead, and when your neck tilts back, you feel an aching pain shoot down your abused throat. He wraps his hands around you and pulls you close, his hips press against yours, soreness radiating from your bruised insides. His hands reach around, one pulling you closer by the waist, the other resting ever so softly against your ass, nonetheless making you stiffen with the sting from where it's been beaten raw. And he asks again... you love him too, don't you?
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murmikaa · a year ago
Text
under the moonlight
eren jaeger x reader
masterlist
minors are welcomed to read, not to interact
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word count: 18.8k
warnings: public sex + tinsy angst + idiots in love
— “for the first time, his heart breaks.
it fucking hurts and this time, it’s your heart that breaks.” —
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"that's so pretty," you sigh, staring out at the sunset. the oranges and reds of the sky blend together like nothing you'd ever seen before.
it's simply breathtaking and reminds you of how you feel on those days when you feel the sun on your bare skin, how you feel when you come home to a comfort meal, and how you feel when you're with your favorite people in the entire world.
eren sits beside you, knees hugged to his chest, green eyes staring out into the horizon. you both watch the waves crash down onto one another again and again. the sounds of water colliding into itself are comforting, it's like white noise to your ears. white noise reminds you that you're never alone, that there's always something happening in life, that you would never truly be by yourself because life is full of so many little things that make it up.
it's nice to just take a breather and get to savor all of this.
the air is crisp and salty like it always is on paradis beach. the water is clear and so clean it almost sparkles at you under the rays of the setting star that is the sun. it's everything and more to you and so many others, you might as well be dreaming.
"yeah, it is," eren agrees, tucking his chin into the crevice at the top of his knees. "no matter how many times we've seen it, i don't think i'll ever get used to how wonderful this is."
he's right.
you've stared at the sun in this particular spot more times than you could count. despite the number of times you've watched the sky go from light to dark, it always felt like you were seeing it for the first time. you'd been living on paradise beach for longer than you could remember, you were practically born there. and you wouldn't have it any other way, there's nowhere else you'd rather be. but as much as you'd like to stay there forever, you couldn't.
you hum, shifting your head in your hands. you're laid out on your tummy on the beach blanket; it's summer and you want to pretend it's just like any other day and not the last week you have at home.
"you never get bored when it's just you and i? like, do you ever wish for other plans on your friday nights?"
eren looks over at you and quirks an eyebrow. "no, never. this is our thing." he says this like it's the most obvious choice in the world like it's the only choice he really has. he doesn't hesitate in his answer and you're a bit taken aback by his bluntness.
"that's true," you admit, "there's nowhere else i'd wanna be."
this was your and eren's tradition: to watch the sunset every friday. it's almost like a celebration of what's in the past, what's in the present, and what's to come. having this constant over the years made you feel less scared for change in the future, it made you feel like as long as you have a bit of something that never changes, life could never go downhill. it scares you that you don't get to have any of this for much longer.
at this moment, he can't help but notice how perfect you look with your cheeks peeling from too much time in the sun, hair messy from the ocean air, and your body in an oversized shirt that he recognizes as one of his. the golden rays of the sun complement your skin in a way that makes him feel like he's the moon staring at the blazing sun that'll always be too bright and too good for him.
eren scoots over to pet your head softly. "me neither. even though you're sometimes clingy," he teases you, ruffling your hair. you roll your eyes, giving him a deadpan expression that he simply sticks out his tongue at.
"you act as if you weren't the one who became friends with me first. the one who's been attached to my hip," you snort, pushing his hand away. you push yourself up, sitting on your bottom.
it's still warm enough that you're still in your swimsuit from earlier; you and eren had decided to hit the beach so that you could relax and so that he could hit some waves in preparation for his surfing competitions coming up. you watch as he tilts his head back to laugh.
"you've got me there. what can i say? weirdos attract weirdos," he points out, poking your nose with a finger. you just shake your head but you can't hide the smile on your lips.
he's an idiot and he's gonna make fun of you every chance he gets, but you would do the same. there's nothing better than being able to poke at and bother someone you know who would never get bored of you. there's something comforting in having someone like him as your best friend. you know that there's nothing in the world that you could do that would push him away. he's a constant in your life and it makes you happy that it's him that always stays even when everything else in life changes.
"seems like we're meant to be then," you smile at him.
there's not a hint of sarcasm in your voice, only sincerity, and fondness that he gets caught off guard. eren parts his lips, almost as if were to say something else. but he just chooses to roll his eyes at you and give you a small push that makes you fall over.
"since when were you such a sap?"
"hey!" you yell, trying to catch yourself. "don't be a dick when i'm trying to be nice, jaeger. this is bullying."
"okay, fine," he huffs, putting his hands up in the air like he was surrendering. "i know, i know."
you can't ever get yourself to be truly mad at him when you've known him for so long. you know every in and out of his personality, every up and down of his life, and what every world out his mouth means. you could just read him well because he's your best friend and hopefully, will always be.
eren's still in his wetsuit but you know it keeps him warm enough. it's a long-sleeved one that comes to his wrists and his ankles, that's meant to protect his body and help him surf. he's been surfing ever since he was little and you've seen how much he loves it when he puts his heart into his passions just like he does with everything else that was important to him.
he's always been the type of person to give it his all, he sees no point in half-assing the things that matter in life. you know that he doesn't want to ever want to look back and regret his efforts just because he wasn't willing to put everything on the line. it's something you love about him, you've never met anyone else whose heart is always caught up in something, whose heart could be so strong and unyielding. he would always get what he wanted in the end if he tried hard enough.
"we should head home," he tells you, gathering up your belongings that were laid out on the blanket. he puts your water bottle, keys, sunscreen, and other small things into your bag. he zips up your bag for you as you flip over onto your back to stare up into the sky.
"wish we could stay here forever," you sigh, "don't ever wanna leave."
eren glances at you, a light pink dusting the tip of his nose, ears, and the apples of his cheeks. his dark hair falling forward like a curtain as he leans over to put your bag over his shoulder. as you continue to lay there, he looks for your flip-flops, pushing the sand around to dig them out from earlier. you always did this thing where you pushed them under the sand to stay cool and away from the rays of the blazing sun.
"c'mon guppy, we can always come back," he points out, pulling out your flip-flops for you.
you give him a smile but it's accompanied with a sigh, "there's gonna be someday that we might not get to, though." you stare up at the sky, voice sad and a bit distant like your mind is far away like you were trying to communicate to him through a body of water.
he tilts his head in confusion, tossing your shirt that he had picked up earlier at you. it lands right next to you but you make no move towards it, just throwing your hands up into the sky. eren watches you as you stare up at your fingers as if you'd found something fascinating. he glances at your hands, they're smaller than his and look like they always have.
"what do you mean by that?" he inquires.
he stands above you. he can see the palms of your hands clearly, they're scared and had got calluses as he does; they're reminders of the adventures of your youth and the silly things you'd gotten caught up in. your eyes drift away from your hands to his face like seeing him had suddenly entrance you more so than what you'd already been preoccupied with.
"don't worry about it," you shake your head, "it's nothing. I was just thinking aloud." You brush him off, wigging your fingers at him to ask him to pull you up.
he's not satisfied with your answer but he trusts that eventually, you would tell him. you're close to one another like that and he's always trusted you to tell him what's going on in your head even if you had no idea what to think of it yet. but lately, you'd been a bit more closed off and he kept simply ignoring that, thinking that maybe you just weren't ready to talk to him yet. that is partially true, but what he would eventually find out wouldn't be anything he was expecting.
"whatever you say," he trails off, holding onto you tightly as he pulls you up.
it's easy for him to pull you up despite how tired he was from surfing all day. over the years he'd gone from a lanky boy to a lean and strong guy; you almost didn't notice until recently because you'd been by his side since that day on the playground when he accidentally pushed you into the mulch and you decked him for it.
he reminds you, "you know that you can tell me anything, right?"
"yeah, i always do eventually," you answer, pulling on your shirt and flip-flops.
he smiles at you, "okay good."
despite the sinking you feel in your tummy, his smile makes you feel like it'll be alright, that maybe it won't be so bad when you tell him. and you want to tell him now, you'd already put it off for so long, but you don't want to kill this mood. he deserves the truth as soon as possible but you don't want to tarnish this memory for you. you want to have this for yourself, as selfish as that is.
you push past the guilt you feel to busy yourself with shaking out the blanket, hastily folding it into fourths. you tuck it under your arm as eren trades you for his keys that you always kept safe in the pocket of your sweatshirt for your bag.
before heading out, he stretches his limbs, needing relief from a day of hard work. his long arms stretch towards the sky, several cracks sounding as he shakes out his body.
"ew," you wrinkle your nose at him playfully, "you getting old already or something?"
eren lets a laugh.
"you wish," he jokes back, "but i know that even if i was old, you'd still mess with me."
"you wish," you grin at him, "you think i wanna be stuck with you when you've got white hair and can barely waddle yourself to the bathroom to take a shit?"
"wow," eren deadpans, his voice full of sarcasm, "that's so nice of you put it like that."
"i'm just being honest! what else are best friends for?" you giggle, racing down the hill to get to his car. you feel sand get into your flip-flops and rub against your skin but it doesn't bother you. the sand isn't hot anymore since the sun has started going down, it's quite cooling to feel the coarse grain on the bottoms of your feet as you make your way to his bronco.
"hopefully for more than just bullying!" eren yells at you as he walks to the car, legs too sore to make it down as fast as you do. he'd spent most of the day surfing and running around playing beach volleyball with the rest of the guys. he's not too far behind you with his stupidly long legs that give him a huge stride.
"just say you can't handle it," you taunt, sticking out your tongue, waiting for him to unlock the car.
his keys jingle as he pushes the right one into the lock of the car. he pulls his door open to unlock the rest of the doors with the button on the side of his door. it's an older bronco that he'd gotten as a gift from his father for his high school graduation; eren had taken a liking to the sports car, asking for it to be redone in a pretty light blue color with white trims and details.
"me?" eren points to himself, faking offense at your jab. "i think you know damn well what i can and can't handle." he throws his bag into the back of the car as you pull open the trunk for him to stick his board into it. he closes the back for you, shooing you away, gesturing for you to get into the car already.
you give him a look, putting your belongings at your feet as you settle into the car. you put on your seat belt, tension leaving your body when you're given a real seat that you can sink into. the leather seats of his car are cooled down enough that you don't want to jump when your bare skin meets the material and so you just sit back and take in the familiar details of his car.
his car smells like coconut from the surfboard wax he always has on him when you go to the beach and like pine from the air freshener hanging on his rearview mirror. the smell makes you feel at home because eren always smells like his car, too. it's been his signature scent since forever, he always leans towards those types of fragrances.
"i do, don't worry," you assure him, kicking off your flip-flops to put your feet up on the dash.
eren flips you off at that but you can tell it's all a joke, he's never cared that much about what you did. but there's a bright smile on his face and his eyes shine prettier than an emerald. the fading rays of the sun reflect on his warm skin tone making him glow, and he's got a subtle quirk at the end of his lips. he can't resist smiling when it comes to you. you're fun and he loves that, always has.
"good," he banters, twisting his key into the car to turn it on, "you better remember that."
the engine turns on and you're not sure what takes over you but you look at him with a soft smile and surprise him with something much sweeter than he had expected.
"don't think i could ever forget anything about you," you admit.
you realize that that it had come off much more sentimental than you had intended when you notice eren's face tints with a flush again. he's surprised by your words and wonders why his heart feels a little bit lighter than it usually does or why he's got butterflies in his stomach doing all sorts of flips and tricks that make him feel lightheaded.
he doesn't say anything back, turning on the radio as he pulls out of his parking space. you both let a comfortable silence fall between the both of you, wanting to let one another recharge from the day you'd spent together.
the sky gets darker and darker, warm hues of the sky blending into the cooler tones of the night sky. it's quite calming to feel the shift of daytime to nighttime and the shift of ocean air to the warmer air of the little town that lied on paradis beach.
you can hear the music playing, soft instrumentals of a band that you recognize play as you lean your elbow on the window frame, head sticking out to feel the air rush into your face.
~ on an island in the sun
we'll be playin' and havin' fun
and it makes me feel so fine
i can't control my brain ~
it's a feel-good sensation to have that freeing breeze and the music in the background; it makes you feel like life is full of so many possibilities at every turn like there were so many things yet to happen that you would just have to wait for. but you don't mind kicking back and letting life go by, it feels better to just let it happen however it wants to.
you sing along to the song, dozing away as the fatigue from the day gets to you. it's just warm enough for you to fall asleep like a baby in the front passenger seat of his car. your eyes fall shut, feeling so heavy. you curl up in your seat, knees tucked into your shirt like a little ball.
as eren drives down the long roads that lead back to your house, occasionally stealing glances fo your face. he thinks back to what he had said earlier, about how he wished he could stay here forever. he still wishes that; he wishes that he knew how to stop time during those moments that he wishes would last a lifetime, those moments where everything was amazing and nothing could go wrong.
~ we'll run away together
we'll spend some time forever
we'll never feel that anymore ~
he just so happens to realize those moments almost always contain you. they're always memories filled with your smiles, your laughs, your stupidity, just you. it's no surprise how important you are to him, having known him for most of your lives and being glued to each other's hips like peas to a pod. but it's much different from how armin and mikasa are important to him.
you're a constant in his life, a necessity to be sane. you both had been by one another over the years, so much so that it was rare to see one without the other. he doesn't want to imagine life without you.
he doesn't understand why it's this moment that he realizes he's in love with you, but it is. maybe it's how peaceful you look when you've fallen asleep in his car after a day together or the way that your teasing is just the right amount of fun or maybe it's because he realizes there's something else hidden beneath the routine the both of you have.
there's intimacy in the shared traditions you have. so maybe, just maybe, there's a chance eren jaeger is just so in love with you and has been for most of his life that he couldn't even tell that he was 'til this moment.
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that night when eren had finally gotten to your house and woken you up, he started to notice when he felt a certain way towards you. his heart had fluttered when you wiped the sleep from your eyes, you had asked him "are we home?" in a sleepy voice that was so cute and endearing that he makes his breath hitch. he knows he has it bad when he catches himself watching you walk into your house and wishing that he had kissed your sleep away instead.
he had driven home with his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were pale. his heart is racing unlike before, just the thought of being in love with you makes him excited. what is there not to love about you?
over the years he had gotten used to your weird quirks and your good traits. he knows you like the back of his hand, he knows what foods you like, how you act when you're around other people versus when it's just you and him, he even knows about the weird dreams you have that you're scared to even mention to anyone because of how bizarre they are. he knows how you like your veggies cooked, he knows that you will sleep in at any given chance, you know that you'd rather have juice over soda, he knows so much about you the same way you do him.
you know that he does this thing where he stares off into space when he's got a lot going on, you know that when he's upset he'll throw himself into surfing, you know that if anything ever happens, the first people to know are you, mikasa, and armin. it's been that way since forever.
he starts to panic once he gets home. so much so that he resorts to texting armin for advice, because why would eren of all people know what to do about this situation when he'd never really shown interest in anyone? much less realized that he'd basically friend-zoned himself after all these years of being your best friend.
eren: hey... armin you busy rn?
surprisingly, armin's the one with the most dating experience out of all of them. how? he honestly doesn't have a clue because everyone had always thought it was either gonna be eren or mikasa. but in high school armin had a lot of girls and even a few guys crushing on him, pulling them in after he'd gotten rid of his long hair and gotten taller. eren would be lying if he said armin wasn't a pretty boy. but the truth is that armin most definitely is, and he has the brains to rival that.
eren stares at his phone, now fresh out of a hot shower that was very much needed to relieve some of the stress he was starting to feel from thinking about what to do. he dries his hair with a towel, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he waits for a response. armin's always been quick to reply.
armin is typing ...
armin: i'm free, you okay?
eren's thumbs fly over the keyboard of his phone, towel dropped onto the best without a care that it'd probably get the bed wet as well. he has other things to worry about that were much more important than a wet spot from a towel. that could always dry, but this dilemma he has is not something that could be resolved so easily.
eren: can i call you? i'm freaking out right now.
armin: yeah of course
before eren can even open up the right screen to call his best friend, armin's contact photo pops up on his screen in full screen. it's this stupid pic of armin as a kid with a sharpie mustache and unibrow that you and eren had drawn on him with he had fallen asleep on the couch on one of the movie nights that mikasa would host at her house. her parents had just simply laughed and went to go get makeup wipes to try to scrub it off his face as he sniffled and stuck out his tongue at you and eren. mikasa had simply hit you both atop the head and gotten a tissue for little armin.
eren picks up the call, ready to confess everything as if it were a sin to be in love with one of his other best friends. he doesn't feel guilty, but he just has to tell someone, especially since you're the one he's freaking out about, the one that he's in love with.
"hi eren," armin greets softly through the phone, "talk to me."
eren sucks in a deep breath, heart racing as he gets ready to tell armin what he's discovered. he thinks about where this could possibly go. maybe it ends with armin telling him to either go or it or to get over it. to be honest, eren has no idea which idea scares him more. the idea of confessing means that his friendship with you could be hurt but also the idea of rejection or having to get over you makes his stomach churn. he doesn't know what to do.
"i have something to tell you," he breathes, voice low and almost hesitant, "but you can't tell anyone, alright?" he knows that armin wouldn't ever judge him but does he want honest advice or a friend right now?
there's a pause.
"... how serious are you?"
eren states, "i'm being dead serious."
he can hear the gears turning in armin's brain from over the phone; the guy always had something going on in his brain, always calculating and reading people easily as if they were simple.
armin sounds almost puzzled when he asks, "like serious enough as in i can't tell mikasa or even –"
"no no you can't tell either of them. fuck – i don't ask for much but please don't go to either of them," eren groans, slapping a hand up to his head.
this feels so dumb to him; he feels so stupid to have to ask for advice or even confide in someone about his feelings but he's never felt this way about anyone, much less one of his best friends who he saw and talked to every day.
armin promises, "i won't. now will you please tell me what's up before you start making me anxious?"
he doesn't sound annoyed in the slightest bit but eren understands his urgency, if he was the one to have to deal with someone going off about a vague serious topic, he'd feel antsy being out of the loop as well.
eren tries to collect himself, staring down into his lap. his head pounds from thinking about this too much and from worrying himself silly. he was always the type to stress over things to no end, but the way he acted was different from the way armin and mikasa are when they were worried. eren tends to let his burdens weigh him down like an anchor on a flooded ship; it's not healthy and sometimes he needs a hand.
"i don't know how to feel about this," eren admits, speaking faster than he usually does. his words are rushed like he's trying to just get them out before they get caught in his throat like honey to your fingers. "but i need to ask you this."
"go on," armin urges, "ask away."
he wants eren to just get straight to the point because despite being a very blunt person, eren did have a tendency to tiptoe around what he really wanted to say. he relies too much on subtle cues and on others to read his behaviors and tones because he's just not the best at communicating.
eren closes his eyes and just decides to go for it. what's the worst that could happen if he just asks, anyways?
"... how do you know you're in love with someone?" his voice is quiet, matching his environment; it's dark and still all throughout the house, not a sound to be heard aside from the soothing crashing of the waves that can be heard from the open window that overlooks the beach. he opens his eyes to stare out of that very window, awaiting his answer. the moon looks so bright now, all white and full like it was calling out to him. it's serene and pretty with its rays of gentle light that calms him just a bit.
armin hums from the other line, contemplating his answer before he comes up with something. it's easy to tell that this comes right from experience because it's too specific and heartfelt to be anything but from his own heart.
"you know that feeling you get when you haven't seen the sun in days? like after you've been being inside for long enough that it left you feeling like you're just existing? like you're just simply there? "
"i guess? but what does that have to do with love?" eren's confused as ever, he understands the feeling armin describes.
armin shifts on the other end before elaborating, "you know you're in love with someone when you always feel that comfort when you think about them, hear their voice, or even when they touch you. you'll know it if it leaves you with that kind of warmth."
eren sits there, processing his friend's words, trying to think about whether or not he's felt that. for the first time in his life, he hears someone verbalize what days with you feel like to him. he's finally got a way to describe that full feeling in his heart when he sees you or gets close to you. he's always wanted to be around you, claiming it's just because you're best friends.
but that's not all; he's been in love with you for so long, it's become natural, it's become just another part of him.
"what if i've always felt that way?" he needs an answer, he needs to know if only realizing his affections now means anything.
armin lets out a soft laugh, sweet and kind, "is this about who i think it is?"
eren's unsure how to answer, he doesn't know if he should expose himself because he's not even sure how to deal with his dilemma. if he's panicking from just dealing with the realization, how would be able to confess?
but he pushes his fears aside. even when he's been terrified of the unknown, he's always eventually brave and weathered out the storms that happen in life. he always comes out learning that it's truly never as bad as his overthinking makes it out to be. there's always been a resolution to the complications in his life. so there's gotta be a resolution to this as well.
"who do you think it is?" eren dares to inquire; he knows that armin knows him just as well he knows armin and that at the end of the day, there was no use in hiding from his friend. he's incredibly perceptive and good at putting together puzzles.
"... it's not me, right? 'cuz you know i love you eren and i'm so flattered but i don't think i see you that way," armin teases, "plus i'm pretty sure that annie would kick your ass if you are."
eren snorts as he shakes his head, "nah, man. you wish you could have a piece of this."
armin gasps, feigning offense, "i can't believe you would ever think that i'm the one between the both of us that'd be the lucky one."
that makes eren laugh, tension leaving his body. armin never fails to help him feel better about life. he feels more at ease after telling someone his discovery because it had been bothering him the minute he got home. it's a lot to think about, after all, the lines between best friends and lovers were known to be one that was hard to transition to properly.
"right, right," eren plays along, "i think you might be right on this one, for once."
"uh-huh. come on, you know i'm almost always right," armin points out with mirth. his laughter rings from the other end. "but seriously, i already know who it is. you've always been so obvious."
eren's breath hitches as he wonders if it really was obvious or if it was just because it was armin. "is it really?"
"yup," armin replies,  "was wondering when you'd finally realize. mikasa and i have been waiting on this one for years now. it was only a matter of time anyways."
eren almost drops his phone, flabbergasted that even mikasa knew before he did. "so you're telling me that i'm the last one to figure it out?"
"yes," armin confirms firmly. "we thought it wouldn't take this long but you're not the best with feelings, i guess."
eren groans, throwing his head back, "fuck, man. that's embarrassing. what do i do now anyways?" there are many different ways this could go, he's got the choice to hide his feelings or so something but he decides that maybe armin's input might be helpful.
"well," the blond starts, "do you want to confess or no?"
eren thinks about that. he weighs the pros and cons; each choice has its own benefits, he could get what he wants, which is you if you return his feelings but each choice also has its dangers. there's the chance that you could simply just reject him and refuses to be his friend. he's scared of that, he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable just because he might be the only one with feelings. he doesn't know what to do if he loses you if he makes the wrong choice.
"i don't know," eren admits, contemplating his different options. "if i confess then i risk our friendship but how do i know if i'm the only one who feels this way?"
on armin's end of the call, he smiles. armin knows that there's not a chance that you don't feel the same for eren as he does you. he's seen the two of you together over the years; it's clear that you don't act the same way around him and mikasa the way you do eren. he's been your friend for almost as long as eren has, he's seen your face light up when you see eren, he's seen you smile at eren like he's the sun, and he's seen every part of you love eren the way he deserves.
"i think that you'll be alright," he encourages kindly, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom.
it's dark in his room with only a night light as a light source. it's a little plug-in that's got a seashell on it; it's evidence of his love for ocean-related things, specifically collectibles. it's bright enough to illuminate the room but not too much so that it hurts his eyes when he has to open them when he's got to use the restroom or wake up from his sleep.
armin adds on, "it'll turn out better than you think it will, i promise."
eren shuffles on the other side, situating himself on his bed. his hair is only damp instead of soaked now, making it comfortable enough for him to fall back into his bed and just let his body sink into it. his muscles are tired and spent, he doesn't realize how tired he had really been until he was resting somewhere comfortable and familiar. he sighs, letting his chest rise and fall. his eyes are heavy and starting to fall on their accord, he's trying to stay awake but it's been a long day and he's got class tomorrow.
"i hope so," eren breathes, snuggling his head into the bed, adjusting the pillow to find the cool side that lay his head in. his hair hasn't completely dried but he doesn't care enough. it's pretty hard for him to get sick, anyway.
"but i don't want to ever hide how i feel, it makes me feel guilty and wrong because we always tell each other everything." his voice cracks at the end, heart feeling a bit heavy with emotion from just the thought of not being able to go to you when he wants to. this is perhaps one of the most life-changing shifts in perspective he's ever had and not being able to talk about it with you fucking sucks.
he's your best friend and best friends should be able to share what they need to get off their chest without fear of consequences and pain.
"then don't wait!" armin tells him, "it's just going to make you feel worse and with how little time you have left to confess, it's best you don't wait."
"yeah i should as soon as i can," eren agrees then he pauses as he processes armin's words. there's something about what he said that bothers him. eren stops his friend before he can say anything back.
"wait, what do you mean by 'how little time i've got left'?"
armin grimaces on the other end, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. he'd just slipped up, eren wasn't supposed to find out from him. everyone in the group had agreed to let you be the one who told eren because it would be unfair to tell him before you were ready to.
"shit," armin curses, "i wasn't supposed to tell you." he sighs deeply, disappointment seeping through his breath.
eren's mind wanders, full of different possibilities as to why he might not have more time with you.  was there something wrong with you that he didn't know of? did you have your heart set another? was he too late?
he's always assumed that he'd have all the time in the world with you because that's what it's always felt like. you've already spent years attached to one another that eren sometimes forgot that it was possible for things to change, for the both of you to go your separate ways.
eren's voice cracks when he pleads, " armin, please. tell me. what did you mean by that?"
he's broken out in a cold sweat now, too worried about what he doesn't know. he anxiously waits for a response with chills down his spine and goosebumps on his arms.
there's a pause.
"armin," eren tries again, he's desperate and starting to grow scared.
"she's moving."
it doesn't sink immediately into eren's head.
"like houses?"'
armin's voice is full of sympathy when he tells eren the truth, "no, eren. she's like, leaving paradis."
eren tries to laugh it off, "c'mon, you're not messing with me, right? "
"i really wish i was," armin confesses, "she told mikasa and i a few weeks ago."
eren's unsure of what to say and how to feel about all of this. just hours ago he'd finally realized he was in love with you, only to now find out that you were leaving him? he feels so stupid for wasting all of this time just being so oblivious to his feelings.
"oh."
armin replies, feeling defeated, "yeah."
"and i'm the last one to know?"
"i'm so sorry," armin apologizes. he feels sick to his stomach because he's never heard eren sound so defeated and lost. he hates seeing his best friend upset because it feels so cruel for eren to have only realized his feelings when it's almost too late.
eren doesn't respond to armin, he ends the call with his thumb and drops his phone on his chest. his heart fills with something heavy that makes him feel like he's drowning. it's almost like he's gotten trapped in a small box that's slowly suffocating him. it hurts to even think about you leaving because you've been there for so long. he doesn't know what life looks like without you and he hates thinking about it.
he wants to be upset with you, to just deflect the hurt he feels on to you. but he knows that you lose more by leaving than he does with you gone. paradis beach has always been your home, it's the only place you've ever known and it the place where everyone you love lives. he wishes that he could shut out the hurt he feels but at the end of the day, he knows that it'll pass as every sadness does.
he clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms to the point where it hurts but he doesn't care. all of this just sucks and he hates it. it's unfair that he's going to lose you after all of these years without having that chance to see if there was more between you two. he has to know, even if it meant he would lose you in more than one way.
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you wake up to a text from eren, it's vague and you don't think much of the fact that it had been sent in the late hours of the night; hours that you know he should have been asleep by.
eren: night swimming, you in?
you rub the sleep from your eyes, letting out a yawn as you pick up your phone to type out a response. your fingers fly on the keyboard, writing out a reply before you can even really think. it's always been second nature to text your best friend back immediately.
you: yeah! what time?
you sit up in your bed, covers falling off your body as you stretch yourself out. you feel well-rested and your muscles no longer feel fatigued. the golden rays of the sun on your skin feels nice to wake up to, it pours in from your windows as bright and strong as ever. you glance out the window, seeing clear blue with only a few clouds taking residence in the skies. it's a pretty day, just as nice as the one before.
your phone buzzes, texttone going off, letting you know you'd gotten a response. you swing your legs over the side of your bed, sitting on the edge as you read his text.
eren: midnight. meet on the beach?
without hesitation, you answer him as if your heart wasn't sinking at the thought that this would be the last time you would go swimming together.
you: sounds good :)
you know that you have to tell him tonight. you'd already waited so long and even if you're scared that he might not forgive you in time to see you go off, he deserved you honesty after a whole summer of hiding from him.
you would tell him tonight.
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midnight comes and you show up to the beach. the moon is full and bright, illuminating everything that needed to be seen. everything always came into light eventually, especially when it reached midnight. that was always the best time for the truth to come out as the sky switches from night and day, it's the only real neutral ground for secrets to be shared.
eren waits for you where he always does. you find him behind the large rock you both had carved your names into when you were little. if you tried hard enough you would be able to find the engravings of his name and yours still there after all these years. it had been dubbed as the 'meeting rock' after that day you both promised one another that you would always meet up there if you were ever lost or needed a safe haven.
eren sits there on a beach blanket in his swim shorts, curled up into a ball. he doesn't notice you approaching as he stares longingly into the crashing waves in front of him, too entranced with trying to beyond the dark horizon.
"hey loner," you greet him softly.
although nothing bad ever happened on paradis beach, you don't want to startle him. you'd learned a while back that he could be a bit jumpy when he got lost in thought, so you always knew that it was best to ease into your entrance.
eren looks up at you, green eyes almost glowing under the moonlight. his hair's thrown up into a messy bun to keep it from getting tangled by the ocean wind. he looks the same as he always does when you go night swimming. and your tummy churns at the realization that you would never see this eren after tonight.
he gives you a smile back and it seems like his usual one but it doesn't reach his eyes. his heart feels a bit too heavy to give you a genuine one. you don't notice that there's something off with him, head too occupied with mustering up the courage to finally tell him the truth.
eren pushes himself up, pulling off his sweatshirt to reveal bare skin and his physique. you feel yourself warm up a bit, breath hitching as you try to advert your eyes away from him. he turns towards you, looking at you up and down as if he was waiting for you to follow suit and take off your clothes.
"you just gonna stand there?" he asks you, brow quirked as he goes to pick up his surfboard from its place in the sand.
you let out a laugh and shake your head, "never that."
you take off your clothes, shedding warm layers to stand in just your bikini. eren steals a glance as he hands you his old board. he would never get tired of the sight of you, whether it be in a swimsuit, in PJs, or in your best formal wear.
"alright, let's go," you take the board, discarding your flip-flops as you make your way to the water first. eren's on your tail as he always has been since you were kids. while you were always best friends that stayed together, he couldn't deny that sometimes you would run further than him, faster than him, and sometimes, away from him.
he dives into the water, board pressed against the lean muscle of his body as he overtakes you. he's always been a stronger swimmer than you, it's child's play to him.
after all, he's a surfer and had always been in the water since the day he discovered it. he'd fallen in love with the freedom that the ocean provides and the feeling of being weightless. he likes that he's just another insignificant life in the vast depths; there's no real responsibilities to have and no one to tell him what he can and can't handle.
"let's go to the cove," eren suggests.
your eyes light up at the suggestion. you'd never turned down the chance to go there, especially on a night as pretty as this one. it'd be the perfect place to tell him, you know that. you could leave every negative truth there and you would never there have to come back to if you didn't wish to.
you nod your head, "lead the way."
you follow him, chest pressed against the flat of your board as you paddle out to the cluster of rocks that you know hides the path to the cove. it's good to be out here, it's relaxing to get away from life and absorb the serenity of the night and all of its beauty. your hands push against the resistance of the ocean, palms flat as you continue on.
"keep up, guppy," eren teases from ahead of you.
he pushes water behind him with a cupped hand, splashing water in your face. you gasp and turn your head away to avoid getting ocean water in your eyes and mouth. you propel yourself forward, catching up to him to glare at him and flick water in his face.
"not all of us are sharks. maybe some of us are content with being cute harmless guppies," you stick out your tongue as you reach the big cliffs at the end of the beach.
that gets a snort out of eren, he seems to be back to his normal self but there's still something on his mind and something weighing his heart down and you're only starting to notice now. you wonder if perhaps he'd caught onto your behavior as of late, always accidentally mentioning how you would miss paradis. you had been able to brush it aside and play it off but perhaps the game was up now.
"be careful around here," he reminds you, slowing down as he reaches the first boulders.
eren makes his way through the rocks, carefully and with ease. he'd been to the cove more than enough times to know how to safely get through the entrance. it's tricky and undiscovered and it would stay that way, always has been a secret since the day he asked you to pinky promise not to tell another soul about it.
you brush him off, "aren't i always?"
"that's a good point. but still, wouldn't want ya to get hurt." it's true, you were always the more cautious one, getting into fewer fights and ending up with fewer scars than he did throughout the years. but he still didn't like the thought of you getting hurt if it could be avoided.
his concern for your safety leaves you soft and with a fluttery feeling in your heart. you know you're gonna miss the hypocrisy of his desire for you to stay out of harm's way when he couldn't even follow his own warnings. you loved how a bit ironic it all was, how it would always care about you just a bit more than he ever would himself. maybe that's what it meant to love someone the way he did you.
"you know, there might be a day where you can't stop me from getting hurt," you tell him. it hurts but it's the truth and that day is going to come sooner than either of you had ever imagined it would.
eren doesn't answer you, pretending to not have heard you. he doesn't want to talk about that day just yet, not 'til you both reach the safe spot that was the cove, where you both would share every burden and every secret you needed to get off your chest.
he doesn't understand why you would hide the truth from him yet but he knows he'll get the answers he wants soon enough. but his opinions on whether or not they were good enough reasons would have to wait to be formed after he knew the full story.
you look up at the sky, dark blues and blacks staying in the sky like ink. it's pretty and it'd be pitch black if it weren't for the bright moon that stood out against the night. it's big and it makes you feel like you were under the observation of something much bigger than yourself. perhaps because it was the same moon that has witnessed years and years of your growth, of eren's growth too.
you pass familiar milestones as you get closer and closer to the cove itself. various sized rocks surround you both as you weave your way in further, pushing your palms against the smooth and ragged surfaces to keep yourself safe from crashing into them. eren glances back at you, hollow feeling in his heart as he too realizes that might be the last night he gets to see you under the moonlight. perhaps it's the last night the two of you will ever be under the same sky.
"it still looks the same," you note as you reach the entrance of the cove.
green vines trace the sides of the entrance, leaves hanging down over it to keep it safe from the outside world. you forget sometimes that it'd been years since you had discovered it and that like anything else in life, it was supposed to change with time. but it didn't. maybe some things could be untouched by the moving world. just maybe.
eren reaches out a hand to lift up the curtains of greenery. they're nothing but heavy and thick but he's strong and holds them up for you as you swim past him. through the window that he provides, you get a glimpse of the inside. it's as beautiful as it's always been.
inside, glittering rocks and crystals line the walls. they reflect the light that seeps through the big cracks at the top of the cove, making everything glow and turning the bright moonbeams so incredibly soft. it's peaceful and serene as the rocks blend into deep midnight blue waters, somehow clear and clean.
it's like you had said earlier, nothing about the cove had changed, it was all the same. it's untouched and untainted by the dangers of the world. you hope that it'd stay that way.
as you swim deeper into the cove, the water becomes shallow. just enough so that you can walk, so you discard your board, pushing off of it to just swim. it's a bit scary not to be able to the bottom of the waters that are below you but you cast that fear aside. nothing bad had ever happened before tonight, so, what were the chances of anything happening now? the surfboard floats to the edge of the water, sliding onto the rocky, grainy surface of the ground.
eren does the same, sliding off of his board. but he lets his float, too careful to let any damage come to it. his feet come into contact with the floor of the cave and he walks towards you. you get close to the shallower end, sitting down as soon as you reach a spot that's just right for you. the water comes up to your chest while it only comes up to his ribs when he sits beside you.
"feels like the old days," eren muses, tilting his head back to stare up at the opening at the top. somehow everything had been timed just right because there's a perfect view of the full moon. he wonders if maybe the moon wanted to witness this moment as well.
you splash the water around, fingers creating pretty swirls that form small whirlpools. the sounds catch his attention and his eyes are drawn back to you. eren watches you, lips parted as you play with the water.
it's just like when you were kids, you would always get capitated by the water like it was something new you'd never seen before. it was something he'd always loved about you, how you would always never get bored of things so simple and ordinary. he likes that you could see the beauty and fall in love with things and ideas that most people would forget about the moment they got bored.
but that's not you, you could do the same things over and over again and stay in love with the routine. and consistency was always something eren yearned for, he yearned for you.
you laugh softly, "yeah it does. it's just like when we were kids."
"remember when we were little and the first time we went to the beach together?"
you smile at the memories that resurface when he asks you that. that day was always one of your favorites and it sometimes played in the back of your mind whenever you needed a bit of cheering up. your hands drop to wrap themselves around your legs, hugging them tightly into your chest. you rest your chin on top of your knees, hard jaw meeting equally strong bones.
"yes," you tell him, "how could i not? i could never forget how your mom had to wait 'til we fell asleep on the beach to get us to leave."
eren leans back on his hands, sighing deeply, "that's probably my favorite memory."
your head snaps towards him, eyes blinking at him. it was also one of your fondest ones, but for that one to be his favorite out of the many you both shared and the many more he'd had without you? you're a bit taken back.
"why that one?" you ask; you want to know why that one was so special out of all the ones they could have picked.
he could have chosen the day that he met armin and mikasa, the day he discovered surfing or even the day that you discovered the cove. there's no shortage of memories he could have chosen, but yet, it's this one.
he smiles, eyes never leaving the sky. "'cause i think that's the day it started."
he says it so fondly that it makes you soft. you've always been the more sentimental one but perhaps, maybe you're wrong about that. maybe this entire time, he's cared more about the past than you thought he did. you always thought he was much more worried about the present but maybe it's the past that he's got his mind on.
you're puzzled as to what he's referencing. you think that maybe he's talking about the say that his love for the sea began and so you ask for clarification.
"when what started?"
he doesn't answer for a moment but you watch his lips part to pull in breaths. his chest rises and falls like it always does; it's slow and deep, calm and collected. for someone whose life was always a bit hectic, eren's very calm in this moment and it leads you to become more and more curious as to what he's talking about.
"eren?" you try again, patient.
he turns to you, eyes looking into yours, "i think it's the day i started falling in love with you."
it's the only now that you realize how he looks at you like you're the only light in the dark and he's desperate for something to warm him. and your heart stops as you take all of him in.
the light bounces off of the surface of the water, reflecting into his eyes. they glitter and gleam like gems, they tell you that there's nothing but honesty behind his confession. eren's sitting here in the water, under the moonlight, staring at you and all you can think about is how much you love him; the eren who could feel free here in this cove, in this water, under this full moon.
it's at this moment that you truly realize that everything's changing and that nothing will ever be the same. eren telling you this means that from here on out, you can't be in denial of your feelings for him either. you had been trying to push them down and let yourself just let him go to make it easier on you when you have to leave. but he's not making it easier in any way. he's always been so kind to you, always nothing but transparent. and if he was transparent, you have to be as well.
"i'm leaving," you tell him.
you're expecting for the light to leave his eyes, for them to lose a bit of their brilliance but they don't. he doesn't even blink at you as if it's not news to him.
"i know."
"oh," you're unsure of what to say. you can't read him. he doesn't seem angry or upset and it confuses you.
there's a silence that settles over the both of you that leads you to break your eye contact. there's something left unsaid between you both and you know that someone has to say what needs to be said.
it's almost like eren knows that too and so he speaks up first, "i'm not mad at you, i hope you know that."
you dig your fingernails into your skin, arms still wrapped around your legs as if curling into a ball would somehow make you feel better. and it doesn't make you feel better in the slightest because you're not sure if you believe him, "you're not?"
"no," he reiterates, voice firm and reassuring, "i promise."
you don't understand how he could be so... unbothered by this news. it makes you feel like he doesn't care enough about you leaving even though he just told you he thinks he's in love with you or something. it's confusing and it just doesn't make sense but you're not even sure of where to start or what to say to get the answers you need.
eren has always been the one that people could get a rise out of easily, he sometimes takes things too personally and in that process, he gets hurt. you have had all summer to accept the move but somehow you still wanted to pretend that it wasn't going to happen. but here eren is, ready to accept it and with an open heart, it seems.
you had wanted to tell him when you were ready. you feel betrayed that he hadn't found it out from you. you suspect that it must have been one of your other friends who let it slip but as cornered as you felt, you couldn't be mad at any of them. it was you who wanted to keep it from eren in the first place.
"how can you not?" you whisper, staring down at the water, "i hid that from you all summer."
eren leans over and rests his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your skin, you feel his steadying breathing all calm and soothing.
"you know that i could never be mad at you." he comforts, hand coming up to trace figures on your arm. "in all the years i've known you, why would i start today?"
in all the years he's been in love with you he's never gotten upset with you. no matter what you could do, you know that he'd never find enough reason to not forgive you. you could lie to him, ignore him, even hate him, but even then, that wouldn't be good enough.
but it makes no sense to you.
over the years there were days where you couldn't stand him or the thought of him. you never once hated him for anything he did. even when he dropped off the face of the earth without a word when his mom died or when he spent a year pushing everyone away because he was scared of getting hurt. you couldn't hate him then and you would never hate him now. but what you do hate is yourself.
here he is, eren jaeger in love with you and forgiving you time and time again although he doesn't need to. it makes you dizzy and makes your heart confused.
your heart sinks as you finally tell him.
"eren, i'm leaving tomorrow."
you feel cold sitting in the water next to him. you can feel the warmth from his body, from every breath he lets out but it's not enough to keep you grounded. you stare into the dark water, wondering if it was possible to just dive into it and never reappear. you never wanted to hurt him after he'd just confessed but it has to be done.
but he wraps his arms around your neck, moving closer to put his face into the crook of your neck. he inhales shakily and squeezes you tight, "it doesn't change anything. i don't want it to."
you grasp the arm he's got wrapped around your front and hold onto him. you shake your head, body shaking. you can feel yourself getting upset by the way you start to feel panic in your chest and by the way your head's starting to hurt.
"but it does," you protest, "this changes everything, eren!"
he mumbles into your skin, "it doesn't if we don't let it. what's so wrong with pretending a little while longer?"
you rest your head on his forearm, nails digging into him as you confess something that you'd needed to get off your chest after all this time.
"because i'm in love with you, too," you whisper, "and you telling me all of this means i can't pretend things are the same as they used to be."
eren's breath and his heart stop for just a second and he wonders if he's dreaming. but it's he's not, it's reality. and the truth is you're just as in love with him as he is.
he asks you, "why not?"
"it's so unfair to only now know that you feel the same as i do," you murmur, "this means that we have to be okay with knowing that we could've had more."
you hear the disappointment seeping through his words when he voices his doubts, "is this not enough?"
there's not a world that exists where eren isn't enough for you. it's not that eren isn't enough for you, it's that the time you have left with one another will never be enough. you won't get to explore every new possibility that's opened up now that you know he loves you. it's so unfair and fucking stupid but it's just how things are, how things have to be.
you shut your eyes, chest feeling tight as you tell him, "no it's not."
for the first time, his heart breaks.
there's a pause as eren tries to think of what to say back but no words come to mind. his brain feels foggy and every breath feels a little too hard. he does his best to hide his hurt but you can feel it like you always do.
"do you want to pretend that this never happened?"
somehow his voice is calm and hollow, so very different from the rejected one before. it brings you more than it should. you didn't want to cause him any pain and maybe you're selfish for this but you wanted him to feel more or at least say something about it. you feel as rejected as he does. you know he cares but why doesn't he care more? why doesn't he care enough to fight for what he wants?
there are a million other questions that run through your mind but you don't know if they would ever get answered so you push them to the back of your mind.
you don't want to forget any of this, but maybe it's better for you. maybe it's better for eren, too.
"yeah," you speak, letting go of him.
he gives you one last squeeze, his salty and comforting scent leaving you as he presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder and pulls away.
eren smiles at you, "if that's what you want, then okay."
but you know that he's faking it because this is the first time you've seen him give up so easily. his perseverance has always been one of the things that you've admired and loved but now, seeing him just accept defeat?
it fucking hurts and this time, it's your heart that breaks.
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the entire trip back to the beach from the cove is just silence. no words are spoken, no touches are exchanged and it's just different. you know that you both were supposed to pretend nothing had changed and act as you normally did, eren isn't even following what he'd promised. he's colder and distant, you've never dealt with this side of eren.  it's new and you don't like it one bit.
but you keep yourself occupied by listening to the pretty crashes of the waves, the ocean breeze, and the horns of ships out at sea. eren distracts himself as well, keeping his eyes trained in front of him at all times, never once looking back to check up on you as he did before. he doesn't want to even look at you and it makes your chest tight.
eventually, the water becomes shallow enough for the both of you to walk. you're thankful for that, your arms were worn out from pushing through the water to get back. with two hands, you pick up your board, waddling through the water to get to where you both left your stuff.
you watch him as he bends down to pick up a towel, patting his body dry. his hair's wavy from the ocean water, tips of his longer bits dripping onto his shoulders. he tosses the towel down before dropping himself onto the ground to sit and finally looks at you. it surprises you when he pats the spot next to him to signal for you to sit with him
you take his offer, shoving your board into the sand next to his as you join him. you let out a sigh of relief, it feels really fucking good to get off your feet and rest. the past few days had been all spent on the beach, surfing, swimming, and being with your other friends. you wanted to have as much fun as you could before you had to leave.
you pull your towel out of your bag, unfolding it to collect all the excess water on your skin. you make sure to press against the fabric of your swimsuit to get as much of it as you can. your hands feel cold as the cotton soaks up the salty water, growing damp. once you were satisfied, you placed your towel down, looking over at eren.
eren lays down, arms over his stomach as he stared up at the sky. it looks just the same as it did when you had arrived but it's still a sight for sore eyes, so he could never get bored of it. he counts the little white stars in his head, getting lost in how many there are and in how the night sky just consumes everything.
"can i ask you something?"
you blink at him and nod. you hadn't expected him to ask you a question out of the blue. you wonder what he could possibly be thinking about.
he breathes out a harsh breath, "why are we not enough?"
you stare down at your lap, suddenly interested in the sand that ticks you your skin. he waits for an answer but the only thing that responds to him is the sounds of the night. crickets chirp from the grass, water washes up on the sand over and over again, soft breezes blowing just loud enough for you to hear.
he wants an answer but you're scared to give one, you feel as if you've already done enough damage.
"it is, what are you talking about?"
you play dumb, but you know he sees right through you; you know exactly what he's referring to.
eren lets out a laugh but it feels fake and forced, "right...."
you sit there shifting your weight back and forth, eyes still glued to your hands. it's awkward between the two of you from the unspoken tension. you want to spend as much time with eren as you can even though he's not trying to have a good time. it's like he's just tired of you.
"you know i hate it when people are fake, right?"
you bite your lip, "yes, i know that."
eren taps his fingers, keeping a steady slow pace. "then can you stop it with all the lies already?"
you jerk your head to him, jaw dropping as he glances at you. you can read his face, he's telling you to stop fooling around. he's always read you so well and usually, you would be glad he could but at this moment, you hate it.
"i'm not lying," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. and then you add on, "well, not anymore."
eren clicks his tongue. he doesn't believe you at all. he doesn't even need to be looking at you to be able to tell when you're hiding something big. he'd ignored how weird you were acting earlier this summer but now? you're still not fully honest with him and after all the time, he still deserves the full truth and you're still hiding from him.
he objects to that, "not true at all."
you're offended and taken back by his arguing, "i'm sorry," you spit out, throwing your hands up. "i'm not sure what else you want from me. this isn't easy on me, either."
he rolls his eyes, "doesn't seem like it."
you blink at him, "eren."
"what?" he asks exasperated and annoyed like he was being bothered by someone he hated rather than someone he'd just confessed to.
you have no idea what's up with this sudden attitude of his. you hadn't expected him to be the type to be such a sucker after getting rejected. it's like he'd forgotten that technically you were rejected too. he knows damn well that you return his feelings so there was no need to be so rude.
"do we have a problem?"
the words feel foreign coming out of your mouth. you'd never gotten into a fight with eren. at least, a real one where there's was something worth arguing about. in the past you both used to banter about who got the last slice of pizza or who got shotgun or who had to be the one to bail the other out when you got into trouble.
"maybe we do," he scoffs, "first time for everything, right?"
you bite your tongue, not understanding how he could be so childish and immature. it was you last fucking night at home and he was going spend it being a dick to you? it's stupid and he needs to know that.
"look," you spit, crawling over to him to look him in the face. there's surprise written all over his face when you do this, his eyebrows hoot up but he still keeps a disgruntled expression.
you point a finger at yourself and everything pours out once again. this time it's not a confession, you're calling him out and telling him how all of this makes you feel. you've never been one to just let people walk all over you. and you certainly not going to let a petty eren jaeger be the first to do so successfully. he may be your best friend, but there are still lines that cannot be crossed.
"you can be angry with me all you want, but that does not change the fact that i am leaving tomorrow. either you quit this bullshit and let us have one last good night together or tell me you're throwing away years of friendship just because i don't want to start anything now."
each word gets to eren. they add onto one another, chipping away at his anger and his resentment. he knows you're right and he knows that it's unfair of him to treat you this way. the least he could do is pretend everything was okay even though his chest hurts and he doesn't want to think or be reminded about how you were going to be leaving him very soon. too soon.
his face softens, anger turning into guilt. he feels like shit.
you don't care if your truth this time hurts because you are not responsible for how he responds to your rejection nor are you responsible for the hurt it causes.
"i – fuck," he curses, looking at you.
despite his anger, he's still in fucking love with you and that's not going to change after one fight. he doesn't think it'll change even when you're thousands of miles from him. he hates that he loves you so much. he hates that you'll still have his heart no matter where you are. and most of all, he hates that it's not enough to just have you now.
and you share that sentiment. you know that if you give in to him then it would mean that the first time with him is the last and that fucking scares you. you keep telling yourself that one kiss would lead to another one and you know yourself. you know that you'd get addicted to him. you're already been hook onto him your entire life and even though it seems impossible, you know that you would somehow find a way to want him even more.
eren sucks in a breath and you can feel it from where you sit. all of his attention is on you and all you can think about is how green his eyes look under this lighting. they're back to the one you know, they're no longer cloudy or different from what you're used to. it seems as if your words have made him realize his wrongs.
"i just don't want you to go," he whispers.
there's nothing but hurt on his face as you look at him. you're still leaning over him, head level with his. both your hands brace the ground, holding you up, but you feel as if you'd fall. and it's not from being too heavy, it might because of how hard your heart's beating. it's intense and you can't hear anything besides that and eren's voice.
every negative feeling you have ceases to exist when you realize that his hostility towards you is just hurt disguised as resentment. your head feels light as he hands his heart on a silver platter for you. he's only ever offered everything he has to you and for once, just this once, he's begging you to accept it.
your eyes burn and you finally understand every word he's said and every action he's taken tonight, he's scared and he wants something to cling to. he wants to hold on to you. and you know how that feels, to wanna have something for a just a while longer.
you hold your breath, too scared that if you breathe, you'll want to tell him that you don't want to go either, that if you could have it your way, you'd never leave his side. you've known him all your life and you want to know him for the rest of it as well.
one of his hands lifts to cup the side of your face, warm palm coming into contact with your cold skin. you let yourself relax into his touch, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes when he does this. you want to tell yourself to stop being emotional but what's the point in trying to hide anymore?
his touch is soft and gentle, it's almost intimate. maybe it is intimate.
a murmur falls from your lips, "you know i don't either."
he gives you a smile, one that's finally shown in his eyes. his thumb strokes your cheek, callouses on his hands feel comforting and safe. this is home and you know it. it's not just paradis that you associate with that word. it's this, too.
it's eren. and it always has been him. he lies in the center of everything; he's not the moon that revolves around another, he's not a star that exists somewhere far and distant, he's the sun. you can't help but want to stay to see him every day of your life, not caring if your life feels like it's on a loop. you've rather stay with him repeating old memories than start somewhere new without him.
"if i asked you to stay, what would you say?"
you want to say yes but there are so many conflicting thoughts that run through your head. you know you're supposed to be responsible and do what you're told but your whole life has been next to the beach. the place where the tides cannot be controlled and where people feel free. it's a hard choice between being who you should and being who you want to be. you want to be the person eren is, the type who takes his own life into his hands.
maybe for once, you're brave enough to do so.
you tell him, "i want to say yes."
the tears drip down your face now, finally able to free. but how you voiced your desire also matters to him. he's never been the best at reading between the lines but he can read yours right here and right now when it matters.
"what's stopping you from saying it, then?"
every little tear you had falls down your face, dropping onto his bare skin. he can feel every single drop and he's aware of how much this means to you and how hard of a conversation it is. he may be good at handling confrontation but that didn't mean you are as well.
"if i say it, then it means that i have to stay, eren. you know i've never broken a promise to you before and i don't want to start now," you breathe, lashes fluttering as you try to blink away the tears.
you shift your weight to try to wipe away your tears but eren's hand stops you. he grabs your wrist, squeezing you tightly. you're caught off-guard and are about to ask him why he's grabbing you but one look at his face and it tells you everything you need to know.
for years, you've seen his face as it changed and aged but you'd never seen him up close like this before. close enough that you can feel his breathing from his lips and nose or every freckle on his face from too much sun. you're only now noticing that perhaps there's more you need to see of him. you've never had this eren before, the eren who knew he was in love with you and willing to give you everything, including his heart.
"then say it," he dares you. he's challenging you as he has since day one. he wants you to live life the way he does and he wants you to be with him. the only thing left to do is for you to finally let yourself have him the way that he wants you.
eren drops your hand in favor of cupping the other side of your face to bring you closer to him. there's no resistance and it feels natural. for once, you just want to go where life leads you, and maybe it's okay if it's leading you to someone.
you hold your breath as you lean in closer to him, heart beating fast and butterflies in your stomach that makes you feel so sick but they always remind you that is new and it's different. it's the kind of change you want for once.
your nose touches his and his forehead presses against yours. every breath he takes, you can feel it. you can feel his heart as you place your hands on his chest, gently using him as leverage. it's like the world around you turns into background noise as all you can think about is what's right in front of you.
you warn him, "there's no going back if i say it." it's a gentle reminder; you say it more so for yourself than for him and he knows that.
he smiles, letting out a soft laugh, "that's what i'm hoping for."
you roll your eyes at him but you can't help the grin on your face. there's the smile he'd been waiting to see all night. the one that never fails to distract him or make him melt. it's one of the few things that would always stay constant for him; your smile makes him feel at ease and it warmed his heart time and time again. he'd never get used to it.
"ask me," you play along, "and i'll give you my answer."
he looks up at you like you're everything he's ever wanted. you feel like everything stops and nothing else matters. it's just you and him. just as it's always been. being loved feels amazing, but to be loved by eren jaeger is something entirely else. it's exactly what you've always wanted.
eren utters your name so sweetly and it's just so pretty when he says it that you feel like it was made for him to say and only him.
"stay with me? even if it's just for tonight?"
and so, with that, you decide to throw everything out the window. your lips meet his and everything changes. this is your answer and it's exactly what he's always wanted even when he didn't know it was what he needed. every touch over the years hadn't ever been enough for him. it's always been just wistful glances and embraces that don't last long enough. now he gets this, the touch he'd been yearning for since the day he started falling for you.
he inhaled sharply and you melt into the kiss as his thumbs stroke your face. he brings you closer to himself, wishing that there was some way you could be even closer to him. maybe even under his skin.
but this is more than good enough for him. and it's more than good enough for you as well.
you pull at his bottom lip, teeth biting down gently on the soft flesh. he lets out a hiss against your lips, vibrations sent to your core. you've never heard these types of noises from him before. and honestly? you want to get as many from him as you can get.
"fuck — i," he pulls away, blinking as if he was trying to see if this was a dream or not, "is that a yes?"
your lips curl into a grin, eyes lighting up as you answer him. "i thought it was obvious, jaeger."
your hands plant themselves on his chest as you hover over him. your body on top of his as you throw a leg over to straddle him. he moans when your bottom settles on his stomach, atop lines of hard muscle. you're still in your bikini bottoms but he can feel every tense of his body, every twitch.
his brows furrow together, "okay so it is a yes."
his hands leave your face, hesitation apparent. he doesn't want to do anything you don't want to, especially continue to kiss you if this wasn't going to lead to where he hopes it does. he doesn't wanna give himself room to hope for more if it's the last time he gets you.
you kiss the tip of his nose and hum, "mhmm, do i need to tell you again?"
"yes please," he rushes out, eager to get your lips back on his. you lean back in for another kiss, shifting the weight to your lower half as you take his hands into yours and place them gently on your hips. this time, he gets your answer. it's loud and clear and he accepts it with open arms and an open heart.
you gasp into him as he grows bolder and confident after getting reassurance. his fingers dig into your hips, pushing you down on his abs. he drinks every sound you make as you grind on him, using his body for your own pleasure. every shift has you panting and squirming.
you've had sex before and done things with other people, but they weren't eren. they don't know almost every service of your body and they certainly can't read you the way that he can.
you're reminded of how well he knows you when he pulls away from you in favor of latching on your neck. he can taste the salt of the ocean and your skin. it's mild and sweet, just like he'd imagined. he's always liked the hint of the beach that you always seemed to linger on you. whether it be the scent in your hair, your skin, or your clothing. it was all good to him.
"shit," you curse, eyes shutting as he sucks on the sensitive skin, tongue flicking back and forth. you can feel every movement he makes and it simply heightens everything. he smirks, realizing that he'll be able to play with you like a little toy. his favorite, of course.
he notes with amusement, "you're quite sensitive there, huh?" it's not a real question, just a rhetorical one. you know that he damns well knows the answer to his own question but he just wants to see you admit it and shift under his observations.
you roll your eyes playfully, trying to brush it off but he decides to play dirty and add a bit of teeth, scraping it up and down your neck. it's got you shivering on top of him, hands reaching up to grip his shoulders. if he's going to play dirty, so would you.
you move down to his hips, rubbing yourself on the hardness that had started to grow in his swimmers. you bite your lip to contain a whine, not wanting to give him more satisfaction. yes, you're best friends. but the type of friends where you like to mess with one another and banter. it's much more fun that way.
eren chokes, hips bucking when he feels your core on top of his clothed sex. it's an entirely new sensation, from you at least. he knows for a fact that you've got a greater effect on him than anyone else he's ever been with. you smile innocently at him as you circle your hip, making sure to apply just enough pressure that it's teasing and leaves him wanting more.
"oh," you giggle, "looks like someone's sensitive too."
his lips draw into a line and he pushes out a puff of air through his nose. "okay, that's so unfair," he says.
you shrug, continuing with the movements over his cock, acting as if you aren't doing anything wrong. technically, you aren't. you raise an eyebrow at him, lips quirking up into a teasing smile. you can't help it at all, it's fun to play with him because you know he's gonna be the only one who could ever keep up with you.
"if you don't like it, i could just stop," you whisper into his ear. his hands squeeze your hips as a sign of protest, he's becoming more and more obvious with his arousal and his desire that you know he doesn't want you to stop. although you know that, it's still good to get some confirmation and consent.
he shakes his head, "didn't say that."
"okay, then we're good?" you ask, licking a strip down his neck. he shivers and makes a sound of approval.
he breathes, "yeah, always are."
you nibble on his neck, hands trailing downwards to squeeze his arms and trace figures onto his chest. you wiggle your way lower, fingers dragging across his skin as you place sweet kisses down his abdomen to just above his swim trucks. he's tender, hyperaware of every touch, and the sensation feels magnified. despite having seen him develop into this casanova, you're still able to reduce his desire to be dominant. he doesn't mind giving you control, in fact, he loves it.
he's a gentleman, always has been. he keeps his hands on your hips and legs you take charge. it makes you happy that he wants you to lead the way, he's always been more than fine to follow you.
your hands mess with the hem of his pants, looking up at him to see his face. he's got this look on his face that tells you've got him in your hands despite him taking you for surprise earlier. his pupils are blown with want and under the bright pale light of the moon, you can't find any imperfections.
"you don't have to —, " he starts, trying to let you know that there's no pressure on either end.
you interrupt him, hand pressing over the shape in his pants, "i want to."
his eyes roll back at that, he finds it entirely too fucking hot that you want him in your hands, that you want him in your mouth. he lets you have what you want, pulling down his swim trunks past his knees for you. you try to keep yourself from staring too long at his cock that's freed from its confinement's but you can't help yourself.
"what? is there something wrong?" he frets, starting to feel a bit shy under your blatant admiration.
"no," you gape, "you've just got a really pretty dick, that's all."
eren drops his jaw, face heating up even more from the compliment. that's certainly something he'd never gotten before and definitely something he never knew he wanted to hear until it fell from your lips. he tosses his head back, throwing an arm over his eyes, a bit too embarrassed to meet your gaze.
he laughs out your name, chest vibrating. "fuck, you know you can't just say that shit."
you pout up at him, taking his cock in your hands. it's heavy and thick, your fingertips barely touch. you're not kidding when you told him that; his dick is a good length, few veins peeking through the skin, leading up to the tip. it's round, pink, and leaking precum. "i wasn't lying though," you chuckle, pumping your hand up and down.
he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes peeking out from behind his arm to watch you take his cock into your mouth. it's warm and inviting, better than anything he's felt before.
"fuck," eren mutters, hips moving on their own accord as you push him further into your mouth. it's hard to take him between your lips, he's stretching you open. almost too open. but you try your best. you suck on the tip, using your tongue to lavish the head occasionally.
he's so cute when he drops both hands to grip your head. his hands push against the sides of your skull, trying to keep you going at a steady pace but you've got other plans for him. you spit on his cock, watching a string of it connect his length to your lips.
"god, that's hot," he mumbles under his breath, but you catch it. at least you know he likes what you're doing.
the waves behind you both aren't loud enough to drown out all the little sounds or the words he tries to keep to himself. his hands leave your head to caress your face. "so pretty like this," he admires. and it makes you feel warm with a fluttery feeling in your belly.
you rub your thighs together, very aware of your arousal that's gotta be sticking to your bottoms by now. but you ignore and put him back into his mouth, hand gripping the rest of his cock that you can't fit into your mouth. you ignore the urge to choke, pressing your head down until your lips meet the top of your fist. eren moans loudly, pulling on your hair.
you whine around him, spit leaking from the sides of your mouth. the pain on your scalp hurts but it hurts just right, like when you're sore after a day out. it makes you want to relax and just become jelly. you twist your wrist, sucking harshly as you move up and down his cock.
his hips are twitching, struggling not to fuck into the heat of your pretty mouth. it feels good and he doesn't wanna hurt you but the fact that he could just make you take everything he wants you to is there and it makes everything just a bit hotter. he pets your hair, contrasting the thrusts into the back of your throat.
"good girl," he says, praises spilling out like it's the only thought he's got in his brain. his pretty head of his just empty with the exception of the image of you on his cock. "atta girl," eren approves, soft and proud.
he's watching every action you take, taking notice of every subtle flick of your tongue and cherishing how well you take him. "wanna try to get all of me in, guppy?" your heart speeds up at that thought. it's already been so hard to try to get most of him into your mouth but all of him? you're not a mathematician but you're pretty he's a good hefty 7 inches, maybe even more.
but you wanna try because you love the feeling of him hurting your throat. you wanna be sore tomorrow and have to speak softly. you want to be reduced to mess 'cuz of him. "yeah," you consent, pulling off of him to catch your breath. you wipe your mouth, wrapping the excess spit on the beach blanket.
"tell me if it's too much, aight?" he's nothing but serious. he knows that girls in the past have had trouble with taking him and he's not sure your level of experience but better safe sorry. he's so in love with you that he's more than fine if he waits for you. he's waited for you after all this time, what's a bit more?
you sniffle, giving him an eager nod. "i know what i can handle, jaeger."
he laughs, throwing his hands up, "okay okay, imma let you do your thing then, yeah?"
"you better," you joke, licking a stripe up and down his slit, tasting his precum. it's mellow and just a tad salty. it doesn't bother you, you'd gotten more than enough mouthfuls of ocean water. and he tastes way better in comparison.
he wrinkles at his nose as you but relaxes once you trace circles on the tip, making sure hit the spot under the head the ridge of the head. he spits out a few curses when you do this, a smile coming onto your lips. it's a sneaky trick but works on almost everyone you've ever gone down on.
taking a deep breath, you get him back into your mouth. you grip your left thumb in your fist tightly, another tip you picked up in the past to help your gag reflex.
all you feel is his cock in your throat, there's nothing else you could even focus on as he fills up your mouth, pressing into all the right spots that have you trembling. his thighs twitch beneath you, flexing and relaxing as you press your nose down to his pelvis, inhaling through your nose. your eyes roll back, hand slipping down between your legs to try to get some relief.
eren huffs from above you, breaths coming out hard and fast.
you rub at your clit, spreading your slick all over as you draw circles around the bud, trying so hard to hold back your sounds. you're scared that if you let yourself get lost in your own bliss, you'll lose track of the task at hand. but this doesn't escape eren, he's not so easily distracted even though you've got his dick in your mouth and making him feel so good.
"wow," he swallows hard, "didn't think you could do it."
your eyes are hazy as you blink up at him, squinting your eyes at him as if to tell him you were offended by his assumption. you would never take on something you couldn't handle, that just wasn't like you. you make a point to try hard in pleasing him, wanting to prove him even more wrong.
you relax your throat, pulling off for air before taking all of him this time. it's not like before where you only crammed him in, this time he pushes your boundaries between comfort and discomfort. you can feel him all the way to your toes when he's pushing into your throat like this. eren almost shouts, hand coming into his mouth. he bits on the flesh of his thumb, teeth digging marks into the skin that he knows will be there for a while.
"holy shit," he just stares at you as you pull off of his cock, tongue licking up any excess spit. he's laid out before you, so pretty and perfect with his hair spread out and body relaxed.
you give him a kiss on the tip, giggling, "so, how was that so far?"
his brain malfunctions as he tries to think of the appropriate thing to say to that, "better than expected?"
you hum, crawling up his body to reach his face. you suck your teeth, sitting on his abs again. "so we had expectations?"
he gives you a look, trying not to crack a smile. he knows you're playing. you couldn't care less because you know that he'd be more than happy with anything you'd do for him. "you know what i mean, " he grumbles.
"sure i do," you sing-song, reaching behind you to unclip your top. his eyes droop, dropping down to stare at your breasts. they're cuter than he could have imagined, he'd caught glimpses of them over the years. it was only inevitable when there were many moments you both decided to change in his car for night swimming instead of putting on your suits beforehand.
you pat his head, grin growing on your face as each touch becomes playfully harder. "i'm just messing with you," you laugh, "it's kinda funny to see you pout. kinda cute too, if i might add."
your skin feels hot but the ocean breeze does a lot to help that, keep the two of you relatively cool although you're sharing body heat. eren sticks out his tongue at you, reaching up to hold your tits in his hands, thumbs flicking over your nipples. you hold your breath, staring down at him.
"i know," he assures, pulling on your tits gently. it's with just enough pressure that it's got you grinding on him, trying to get some friction.
"ah," you sigh, "that's good."
your voice trails off the end, giving in to the overwhelming need to get off. eren takes it slow, sitting up to get you in his mouth, this time it's his tongue lavishing you. he takes note of all your reactions, grinding his hips up into yours, wanting to hear you gasp when his cock pushes against your clit in the most delicious way.
he presses kisses down your chest then bites down gently on the spots he sees are more sensitive than others. you arch in his arms, your own wrapping around his neck as he teases you.
"you should get a move on to the main event," you urge, almost begging him. he's been at this for longer now than you were on his cock earlier and it's driving you insane. there's a lot of things eren jaeger is but a tease in bed was not something that had ever crossed your mind. he chuckles, hands squeezing your waist.
"now, who's the impatient one?" he taunts.
you hit the top of his head, snorting, "don't act like you weren't the one moaning and groaning while you got your dick wet."
there's a pause before he responds cooly, "okay, got me there."
"uh-huh, that's what i thought."
now eren's finally moved on, fingers playing with the edge of your bottoms where your hip meets your thighs. he's asking for permission; it's nonverbal and you wouldn't have recognized it as a question if you weren't paying attention or knew him well. eren's always been like this, asking before crossing boundaries even though he already knows he has it. it's just the right thing to do, but it makes your heart flutter.
you push yourself up, hastily yanking down the fabric down and stepping out of them. you toss them on top of the pile already consisting of your top, towel, and clothing. eren adverts his eyes, unsure if you would become self-conscious if he watched you throughout this. he knows that some people could be when it came to undressing.
"you can look, you know," you tell him, sitting back in his lap. he shifts under you, hard cock brushing by your bare cunt. his head turns back towards you, hands back on your waist.
"sorry," he apologizes softly, "just didn't know if you were shy about that, i know not everyone wants someone staring at their junk."
you lean into him, breasts pressing up against his chest, he breathes hard at that. you kiss him, it's deep and with a hint of tongue. he mumbles something into your lips but it's drowned out by your actions. he lets you continue the kiss, arms hooking yours to pull down on your shoulders to get you on his cock. you struggle to kiss him back, whines trying to leave your lips.
you pull away, panting, "yeah, i don't really care. it's just you. could never make me feel that way."
it's like he was looking for that reassurance, his posture relaxes and he nods his head, "okay good, just wanna give you everything you deserve."
you press a kiss to his cheek, pushing up on your knees to reach down and grasp his length in your hand. it's still as heavy as before and your lashes flutter when you can literally feel him pulsing in your hand. it shouldn't be as hot as it should but with the way your cunt tries to squeeze around nothing begs to differ. you line him up to your entrance, looking into his eyes as you hold onto him and sink down.
"fuck, you're so big," you gasp, squirming and trembling on top of him.
eren groans when the tip of his thick cock slips past the tight resistance of your cunt. you're trying hard to relax for him but with him being the biggest you've ever seen, it was gonna be a bit harder than you had thought. you steady your breathing, nails digging into his chest as he lets you go at your own pace, cunt sucking him into you like you were made for it.
"shit," he swears, readjusting his grip on you, "how are you so fucking tight?"
he leans in, the tip of his nose touching yours; you can feel the soft inhales and exhales of his breath as you glance down at his lips. you grind on his cock; pulsing around him like it's the only thing you know how to do. you swear you could feel his heartbeat from his cock, so loud and clear. you whimper into his ear, letting out little puffs of air as his bottoms out, hips flush against yours, all of him finally into you.
you feel so full and as if there was nothing else in the world to even think about. you stop caring about the whistle of the wind and the fact that you're having sex on the beach where anybody could catch you. you should be headed home to get ready for your flight tomorrow but instead, you're here. and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
he's finally confessed to you. you've finally mustered the strength to tell him the truth, and everything seems to be working out perfectly. it's almost too good to be true.
“feels so good,” you murmur, riding him. your pace is slow and meant to be so that you can memorize the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. he groans, hands helping you up and down his length. his eyes roll back at your praise; you’re so wet from just sucking his cock earlier that it makes it easy for him to glide in and out of you.
his lips part, wet with your spit after you kiss him. his eyes stay down, trained on where your bodies meet, too obsessed with how he gets to watch your little pussy take him into you. he's fascinated with how you could even fit all of him inside you. he groans, pink lips dropping open, “can i tell you something?”
his lips are loose and ready to tell you anything you want to hear, anything he wants you to know. you nod your head, "yeah of course."
he's never been truly scared to tell you anything and that wasn't going to start now even when things have changed and you're connected in a different way than before. even when he's gotten in trouble, he'd always eventually come to you. yeah, he'd sometimes be met with some hits over the head and teasing but in the end, all would be well.
"i think i'm in love with you," eren chokes out. you ride him harder, his confession urging you on.
"yeah," you pant, "i know, you told me earlier."
your thighs burn as you increase your speed, hands shaking as he brushes by your cervix, making you feel all tingly inside. your tummy tightens when he grinds into you, hitting all the spots in you that no one else has ever gotten to before. all this time, you'd been missing out on this? what a shame.
he bites in your shoulder, teeth blunt and strong. you wince but don't say a word, it feels good. "no no no," he stresses, "don't mean it like that."
you gasp when he fucks into you particularly hard, getting a cry out of you. your voice raises an octave, a sure sign of your approaching high. he sneaks a hand down between your bodies to find your clit. he somehow knows exactly what you like, rubbing at you with the perfect amount of pressure and at just the right speed. it's hard for that feeling in your gut to now grow when he's got you good like this, fucking you in a way you never knew was possible.
"t – tell me th – then," every word is accompanied by a snap of his hips, they're too distracting and make it hard for you to even get any words out, much less any coherent sentences.
his lips leave your shoulder and he leans back far enough to look you in the eyes as he tells you, "i meant to say i love you."
it shouldn't be a surprise to you when he proclaims his love since he told you just a few hours ago that he was in love with you and has been for most of your lives, but you hadn't expected him to say those three little words that'd you'd always reserved for the most important people in your life. this confession isn't the same as the other 'i love you's that you would get. despite the years of being in love with you, there's one thing that eren never did. and that one thing was saying those specific words to you.  
you were never too scared to say those words to the people in your life, after all, you saw no need to hide your affections. you'd even let those words slip to eren several times in the past. but now, those words have a weight to them, they mean so much more and him saying that to you now? makes you want to cry and it makes your heart stop.
"i love you too," you echo back, dropping your head to rest your forehead on his.
your confession has him slipping over the edge. his hips twitch under yours, fighting to hold on just a bit longer. but you don't care if he doesn't last, you just want this to be you and him, nothing faked and everything to be real. he gasps when you roll your hips again and again at the perfect angle.
there's no better place than here, to have had your first time with him. the beach was all you'd ever known and it's what you both share. it'd always have a special spot reserved in your hearts and minds.
you cum with him whispering pretty words into your skin that's meant for you and only you. you're embarrassed when you cum around him, squirming around him as his fingers on your clit drive you over the edge. it's a soft orgasm, one that's not meant to overwhelm you. it's satisfying and sweet, just like how you want them all to be after this one to be. eren follows shortly after, crying out your name.
you wish for just a moment that'd you'd never been with anyone before him, just so that he'd be the only one to have ever said your name like this. you're more than sure you're not his first, but you intend to be his last and you know that he's got no problems or complaints against that.
when you come down from your high, eren's just staring at you with awe. it makes you blush and let out a laugh through your nose. you slap his chest, "what are you looking at?"
he gives you a dreamy smile, "nothing, just my favorite guppy."
you lift your hips up, flipping onto your back to make sure his cum doesn't drip out of you. he hands you an extra towel to collect whatever drips down your thighs. you open your legs for him, giving him a fake pout, asking him to do it for you. he does it without complaints, too fucked out to care and you know he would've been polite enough to do it for you anyways. it's his mess, after all.
"i better be your only guppy," you joke back as he tosses the towel aside and lays down next to you. your bodies beside each other like they always have been and how they always will be. you know you've made the right choice in choosing to stay instead of leaving.
"no need to worry, the only fish in the sea is you," he teases, staring up at the sky with you.
you smile, excited for everything the future holds. you'll worry about covering up later and you'll fret about your missed flight later. you know you'll be fine as long as you've got your best friend beside you. you only let yourself think about what tomorrow holds with him and about how your future starts tonight, under this moonlight. with him.
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wincore · a year ago
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field day | jung sungchan
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pairing: sungchan x fem!reader
synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.
genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff
words: 7.5k
warnings: language, jung��“the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan
request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^
song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet
a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33
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In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 
You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.
You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 
“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.
“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.
Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)
“No,” you say, firmly. 
“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.
“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.
The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 
When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 
You shake it off. 
Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.
Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.
“Not today?” He asks.
You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”
It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.
You hate soccer. 
And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 
Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.
You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.
-
The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 
Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.
“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”
Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”
You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.
“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.
“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”
“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”
Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.
“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”
Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”
“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 
“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”
Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”
“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”
Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”
You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”
“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”
“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.
You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 
“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.
You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”
Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”
Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 
“We’re here!” Yuna announces.
You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.
Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 
“Sungchan?!” 
Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.
“(name)!” 
You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.
“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 
Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.
“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.
Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.
"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 
"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."
Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."
Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.
“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”
“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.
He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.
“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 
Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.
You blink. The realization dawns. 
"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"
He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."
Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.
You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"
He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."
"That's so… cute."
Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 
“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”
He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.
"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."
You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"
"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"
"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."
Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.
You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.
You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 
"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.
The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 
"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.
Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.
“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”
“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.
Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.
“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 
“It’s okay though?”
Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 
“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”
You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”
You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.
“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.
"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."
"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."
You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 
“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.
“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.
“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.
Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.
She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”
You flash her an awkward smile. 
“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”
“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”
Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”
Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”
A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 
“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”
She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.
The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.
On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  
Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 
But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 
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"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 
You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."
Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.
“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”
“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”
You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.
“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”
“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.
“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”
You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 
“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.
Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 
“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.
“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.
You roll your eyes. 
You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 
"Do you have any bandaids?" 
He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?
You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"
"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."
You giggle.
Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 
You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).
“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”
No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.
However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.
You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.
Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.
When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.
"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 
Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.
"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”
"'Ey," Sungchan complains.
"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."
The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 
“(name)? You’re coming?”
You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.
“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 
“But I have cleaning duty today.”
The group groans. 
“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”
“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.
“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”
“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”
Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”
You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”
“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”
A bunch of groans interrupt him. 
“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”
“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.
“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”
Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”
Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 
-
“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.
“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”
He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.
“—those two.”
Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.
“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.
Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”
“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.
“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.
“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.
Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.
“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.
Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”
Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.
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You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 
Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.
The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 
If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.
With a friend you like very, very much.
“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 
“Hm?” 
When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.
“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”
He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”
“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”
“Yes. Yes, it was.”
You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”
Sungchan beams at that. 
“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”
“Even I know who that is so… no.”
Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”
“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”
Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 
You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.
“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”
Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”
You scoff. “Whatever.”
Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.
“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.
“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”
You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”
Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”
You nod, somewhat understanding. 
“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”
You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.
“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”
Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.
“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.
You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 
“You should,” he responds, honest. 
You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”
“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”
“I’m smart, right?”
You smile. 
“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”
“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.
“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.
“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”
You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”
"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."
"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.
"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."
You raise an eyebrow.
"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.
"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.
Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."
You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."
"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."
You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.
"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."
The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.
You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 
Only one more match, you remind yourself. 
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The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.
Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 
Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).
Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.
There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.
“(name)!”
You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.
He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”
His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.
“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.
“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”
You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”
“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”
You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.
“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.
“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”
You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.
With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.
“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”
You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”
You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.
“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”
You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.
“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.
It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”
He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.
You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 
“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”
He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”
You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”
He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”
You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”
He breaks into a smile. 
“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.
He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 
“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”
“Okay, I get it.”
His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.
You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.
-
Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 
Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.
Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 
“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?
Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 
Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.
“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.
His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”
You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.
“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?
“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.
“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.
“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”
Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 
As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 
Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.
“Skate plaza?” He asks.
“Skate plaza,” you answer.
1K notes · View notes
oldblackandwhitetown · a year ago
Note
If the request are still open, what about the smp with a Latin s/o I’m really curious about this one :) ly <3
𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫| MCYTS
Pairing: cc!dream; cc!georgenotfound; cc!sapnap; cc!Quackity; cc!Karl; cc!Niki x latin!gn!reader (separete).
Summary: different mcyts with a latin s/o.
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: a little bit of swearing, other than that none!
A/N: Once i go the request I knew I had to do it. Thank you for requesting, sorry it took me a while to get it done but here it is, I hope you like it<3
Enjoy:)
Masterlist | Navigation
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DREAM
He loves to listen to you when you speak in your native language.
It’s mainly because he knows you can express yourself better and feel more comfortable when you speak in the language you're familiar with.
He'd be insterested in the culture and traditions. Like, Dream would try to learn more about it because of you.
Since in latinoamerica we do most of things different than in the US, both of you had to get used to the way each other work.
Like if you organize things inplaces that Dream is not really familiar with, he'd be asking you all the time where to find something.
"Y/n, you know were the pans are?"
"I put them in the oven."
He'd be confused at first but eventually would get used to it.
Dream can't handdle spicy food, so when you decide to cook a family recipe you'd try to do it the less spicy you can.
(He once tried the original recipe when you two visited your family and he almost passed out)
H'ed be really excited to meet your family, and would try his best to impress them.
Asks you to teach him some spanish (if you're from a spanish speaker country, I say this because there's a few countries that are part of the latin comunity but that don't have spanish as a native language)
He tries really hard and although his pronunciation is not the best is still understandable.
Your mother loves him but your father tries to intimidate him at first, is all good at the end of the night tho.
You' try to teach him some latin dance moves.
Dream doesn'tr really like to dance but for you he'd try anything.
Sapnap takes videos of him to share in the dream team gc and make fun of him later.
Which only led you to make him try too and now you are the one filming them.
GEORGE
First thing he'd ask you is to teach him spanish.
We know how he asked Quackity to help him with that and I actually thing that he seriously would like to learn.
Going around the house pointing things and saying the name in spanish.
"Lámpara." (lamp)
"Sofá" (couch)
"Espejo" (mirror)
He'd look at you afterwards to make sure he said it right.
George would eat anything you make for him, even if it's spicy.
Listens to spanish songs with you, and even if he doesn'0t quite understand the lyrics he still vibes to it.
George may know a few words in spanish but the only thing he doesn't know anything about is swear words.
So you'd take advantage of that, swearing around him and saying some words he don't know.
Let's say you were cooking and you touched the hot pan by accident. The second you felt the burn in your hand you swore so loud that you actually scared him.
You told him it was just a way to say you were hurt.
Later on he learnt about that and you couldn't fool him anymore.
SAPNAP
Contrary to George, the first thing he'd like to learn is how to swear in your language.
"How would you say fuck?"
"Hey babe how would you say dickhead?"
"Y/n what's the word for pussy in spanish?"
He'd be constantly swearing on stream and if Bad asks what it means he'd straight up lie to him.
"It means that your a nice person."
"Oh, that's nice."
You'd explain to Bad later what it actually means.
"You muffinhead, don't say that word when I'm live!!"
Sapnap actually likes when you tell him about the latin culture, he just loves how passionate and cheerful you are when you talk abou it.
He'd be constanly asking you to make a traditional recipe for him. Sapnap adores your food and is always praising you for that.
You'd appear on stream every once and a while; chat loves you.
There'd hear you in the background of his streams talking with your friends or family.
Speaking of family, the first time Sapnap met your family he was really nervous.
But eventually he warmed up to them and got used to how affectionate they were.
QUACKITY
Mr. Ipad Kid would feel so comfortable with you.
Sionce both of you are latinos it's easy for him to communicate with you. He's said that he actually likes more when he speaks in spanish cuz he can express himself better.
Only speaks spanish when you're around.
If you're on stream with him Alex would sometimes forget he's live and just starts speaking in spanish with you.
Chat would be like wtf is he saying until he realized.
"Oh, sorry chat I was just asking Y/n about dinner"
I feel that you two would make fun of the guys without them knowing and would just say you were talking about food.
Quackity would be more chaotic around you.
Loves when you two go on late nitgh drives listening to spanish songs and singing your hearts out.
If you don't speak English that well he'd help you with that.
Constantly making trips to visit both his and your family.
He loves that you can understand all of his spanish memes and jokes.
Would annoy you with the most unfunny jokes but you love him so it's fine :).
KARL JACOBS.
I feel that Karl would be the type to encourage you to embrace your culture.
Like if somone makes fun of you because you do something that you're used to do back in your home Karl'd be throwing hands right there.
He doesn't stand when people make fun of you in any way.
Likes to try things that are part of the latin culture to appreaciate you and the comunity.
You'd try to teach him how to speak spanish or the language you speak, but when you get to the slang part he'd get confuse.
"So you're telling me that word can be said in a friendly way but only when you're people you've known for a long time?"
"Yeah, if you go and say that to and elderly woman she'd most likely punch you in the face."
He was really nervous and shy when he met your family.
It was really overwhelming meet so many people at the same time and try to communicate with them in a language he's not too goog at.
He loves to watch spanish shows and movies with you just so he can learn more about the language, and he actually thinks they're more funny than the american movies (they are).
If you get homesick and miss your family he'd buy you a plane ticket to wherever they are in just so you can spend some alone time with them.
Karl loves you and who you are and would always hype you up no matter what.
NIKI
The first time she heard you speak in your first language was when you were talking on the phone with your mom.
You were just talking about what you were up to and NIki walked in after ending her stream.
She was mesmerized how giggly and happy you looked but didn't want to interrupt you.
Later on she asked you about it and since then she's been really insterested in knowing more about it.
Loves when you call her petnames in spanish and when you're too sleepy that would answer her in your language.
Sometimes you'd mixed the languages but she still understands what you're sayting.
"Niki what was the anme of the pelicula (movie) that we watched last night?"
Loves when you cook for her and loves to hear the story behind it.
"Did you know this dish was actually created because..."
Likes to listen to slow songs in spanish and dance with you in the middle of the kitchen.
"What are you doing?"
"Just dance with me."
She's just too cute and loves you so much.
Taglist: @jeffreybezzos
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nosepiercing · a year ago
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To celebrate his 100th win after the Russian GP Sky Italy aired an exclusive interview they did with Lewis before the Italian GP (when the picture below was taken, just for reference).
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It was a nice interview, I tried to write down a little summary because sadly I don’t think there’s a video version available to upload:
He says that he doesn’t feel like a legend because he’s still involved in the sport, every weekend he tries to improve himself, tries to refine and be creative with the setup of the car
Every year he makes a list of 10 things he wants to achieve and ends up achieving maybe one or two, so there’s always stuff that ends up on the following year’s list
His main objective this year is to show different kinds of people they can have a place in f1, to create a path for engineers and other people who otherwise wouldn’t even consider working within the sport. He’s trying to get all the teams involved
He talks about the importance of caring and fighting for other people’s rights even if they don’t concern him directly, mentioning women’s abortion rights in the US: “Even if as a man it does not concern me directly, it is fair to talk about it. It is right to give your support and to be a part of a generation that pushes for change”
He talks about being the first black driver in f1 and says that at the end of the day winning this much doesn’t matter if he doesn’t use what he has achieved to help others: “Being able to help people is the thing that makes me really proud. It is not just a matter of winning races and championships, but of moving the needle even by a single millimeter, because over long distances the difference can be enormous. […] If you can make an impact even on just one person, pushing them to do something better in life, then your time here will be worth it. […] It is necessary to make certain things visible and talk about them”
It’s very important for him to have little creative spaces for himself, like practicing his singing (he mentions “strengthening his voice to create something”) and learning how to play the piano
He learnt different things from each of his teammates and wouldn’t change anything about his journey with them, for better or for worse
Valtteri is the first teammate he had with whom he was really able to cooperate and communicate without secrets, because they’re always trying to help each other
[Pauses to apologize for Roscoe’s farting]
When asked about the next generation of drivers he mentions how they remind him of himself when he was younger, he finds them exciting to watch and he’s focused on how he can challenge them to keep earning his place in f1
He’s excited about the next regulations change because he thinks it will be an opportunity to show his driving skills
He believes his spirit will help the team in the future because he knows which direction the car progress needs to go, and he hopes he will be a part of George’s growth next year. He also has no problem learning from him or from someone else younger than him, “I have no fear, I just want to win”
He has to train harder now to keep up, and he can’t eat pasta/pizza/gelato very often because they go straight to his hips :/
There have been plenty of times in the last 4/5 years when he has thought about retiring because of the sacrifices he had to make in regards to his personal life, but he will keep going as long as he’s fast enough, motivated enough and “still hungry”
He finds it heartwarming that everytime he comes to Monza there are tifosi asking him to come to Ferrari but jokes that the only Ferraris he’s gonna drive are the ones he has at home 🤪. Ferrari was never really in the cards for him, he wishes them all the best but says that he’s gonna spend the rest of his time in f1 trying to prevent them from winning the championship
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