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wildernessuntothemselves · 6 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 6

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.2k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, loss of virginity, PIV sex, fingering, brief pussy licking, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

Despite what Beomgyu said, he and Haeun seem to have become an item, just as you and Yeonjun are now. They’re always together, as you are with Yeonjun, and it’s like you and Beomgyu don’t even know each other anymore. He’s always hanging out with her and you’re always hanging out with Yeonjun. You hardly see Beomgyu anymore, which makes it weird the way he’s sitting on your bed, watching you get ready just like old times.

You remember how you and he used to play a game sometimes as you got ready where you’d pick out various outfits and try them out for Beomgyu, giving him a mini-fashion show that he would narrate as if it was a football game, going on about how groundbreaking the designs are and how pretty the model (you) looks.

He was your main supporter in going into fashion as a major. You don’t think you would’ve had the courage to do it without him. He always believed in you and stood by you even when your parents were upset at you for choosing a career with such an uncertain future. He told you that if one of you succeeds, you’ll just pull the other up too. If his music career takes off, he’ll contract you to be the creative director for the band and if your fashion career takes off, you’ll have to hire him as your model. And if you both fail…well you’ll be strippers together.

You laugh as you remember your promise and turn back towards Beomgyu, who was sitting on your bed watching you. “Hey, remember our backup plan? That we’ll make a two-man stripper show to repay our student debt?”

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. Instead he just hums, focusing on your dress.

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask, insecure. You’re not used to wearing something this extravagant but Yeonjun is taking you to a photography exhibition tonight and he told you it’s gonna be really fancy.

You’re not sure if being stressed out and sweating as you try not to get judged by all those more talented and influential people is the best idea for a date but Yeonjun insisted that if you wanted to get into fashion, you have to start mingling.

You didn’t even have a proper dress. You had to wear something you made for a fallen goddess shoot you had in mind, but by the look Beomgyu is giving you, it’s probably trash.

"Does it matter?" He asks and you frown. "What do you mean?"

"It means that with what you're wearing, I don't even know why you’re bothering going on a date when you can just invite him over and let him fuck you now, skip the formalities."

"You're unbelievable." You spit out, trying to hide the dread filling your chest and making you struggle to breathe. Yes, the dress was a bit more revealing than you’re used to, but it’s an art event, people wear this stuff there all the time.

“Where did you even get this dress?” He asks in distaste and you hold your head up high. “I made it.”

That makes him back down, his eyes visibly softening as regret shows on his face. “Oh… It’s pretty.”

You snort in disbelief. "Why are you even here, Beomgyu?"

He shrugs. "Just watching this shitshow go down."

“Right.” You mutter bitterly, "I guess it was too much to expect you to act like a friend."

"I am your friend.” He says as if declaring it is enough to make it true. “I'm your best friend."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

He jumps off the bed when he hears that, quickly getting in front of you. "What does that mean?”

"Nothing. I'm going to be late." You try to get past him but he won’t let you. "No. What do you mean by that? You said I'd never lose you."

"Yeah, that was before you transformed into this asshole who accuses me of trying to sabotage his career and calling me a slut for daring to date."

He moves back, stunned at your words, and you almost laugh. Is he really surprised? "I'm just… working through some stuff."

"Stuff? That's your excuse?" You ask incredulously and he looks away. Is “stuff” worth what he’s done to your friendship?

"It's just hard for me to see you with him." He finally admits and you sigh. Not this again. "Beomgyu, I know you’re worried about your band, but Yeonjun and I are adults, even if we break up, that doesn't mean–"

"It's not about that." He shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Then what is it?" You ask, frustrated. Frankly, you’re at your rope’s end with his weird behavior.

"You're too good for him."

"What?” You reel back. Now, this is new. “Is it because he sleeps around? Because we’ve talked about it and he insisted that just because he's had many casual relationships before doesn't mean he's gonna cheat on me. We've been together for a while now and he has been nothing but wonderful to me."

He really has. You don't know what's wrong with you. Why can't you love him the way you love your asshole best friend? Maybe it will come with time? You've known Beomgyu for years and your love for him didn't develop overnight. Maybe you just need to give your relationship with Yeonjun more time.

You hope it doesn't take years to get over Beomgyu and fall in love with Yeonjun though.

"It's not that. It's not him. You're too good for everyone."

"Beomgyu…" You walk towards him and hold his hands. "I know you're not used to me going out with guys because, well, I've kind of lead a fairly loser-ish life--you know, you've been there– and maybe me and Yeonjun won't end up working out and maybe I'll end up hurt but I can't just be virginal forever. I have to try to find someone for me."

"But you have someone." He pulls you towards him, resting his forehead against yours as he plays with your hands. "Me."

That hurt more than any mean thing he has ever said to you and he doesn't even mean to hurt you. He has been terrible to you all this time because he thinks you deserve more? Because he wants things to stay the way they are? That is fucking absurd and so infuriating. Why couldn't he have just told you that instead of acting like an ass? Not wanting to lose you doesn’t mean he gets to order you around. Being worried about you doesn't give him the right to treat you like a stupid slut.

"Don't be stupid." You say harshly, making him flinch. You try again, softer this time, not letting the anger and pain through as much. "I know I have you but I need more."

"More what? Why can't things just stay the way they are? We have fun together, right? I make you laugh. I'm there for you when you're down. We've even messed around. What can he give you that I can't?"

Love. You need love and even though Beomgyu loves you very much, it's not in the way you need.

"Beomgyu, you’re being very childish about this. We're not twelve anymore. I know you’re scared that we'll drift apart if I find someone but the only reason we’ve been drifting apart is because of your behavior. I can't keep coddling you. You may not like it because it’s only been you and I until now, but it's time for me to find an actual boyfriend instead of this–this joke I have with you."

Maybe you’re being too harsh on him but you’re honestly too hurt to sugarcoat it anymore. And you also need to hear it yourself. What you have with Beomgyu isn't real and you need to face the fact that it will never be. "I need someone to actually love and to hold and to be my other half. Us messing around together is just that, messing around, nothing more. I need something real. You do too. I mean you're finally with the woman you've been chasing after for years. Do you really wanna throw that away just because you're scared?"

Still, seeing the way he becomes quiet after your outburst, looking away from you and not responding… maybe you could’ve been nicer about it.

“Beomgyu…” You sigh, reaching out to turn his face towards you but he pushes your hand away, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Go. You’re late for your date." He grits out and you look at the time. Crap. You are!

You look at him again, seeing the tension in his jaw and shoulders, something that resembles pain etched on his features. Should you stay and work this out for him or go on your date? If you stay, you’d be choosing him yet again. If you stay then you’ll just teach him that all he needs to do is act out and you’ll cave and do what he wants. No, you need to make some changes. That’s what you promised Yeonjun when you and him decided to become exclusive. Beomgyu can’t come first anymore.

"I have to go. Let’s talk about this later." You step back, ignoring the hurt in his eyes as you grab your bag and head for the door.

____________________

When Yeonjun said the place was fancy, he wasn’t kidding. You’re blown away right now, surrounded by people you’ve only known about through magazine spreads and hours of admiration through the internet. You can’t believe you’re here in the same room with such talented artists and creators.

You feast your eyes on the multiple displays from different photographers and artists, analyzing their technique, their vision, and their subject, and you’re just in awe. This is exactly where you should be, mingling with the others in your field, making connections, building a network… except you haven’t really gotten the hang of socializing yet. You’re too nervous to talk to anyone. You just stand silently next to Yeonjun as he charms his way through the crowd, joking there, throwing a compliment here or purring a small flirty line that has the other party blushing.

He can turn it on for anyone. He’s so good you can’t help wondering where his charming nature ends and his actual affection for you begins. How do you know he’s not just charming you the same way he charms everyone else?

“Do you like it?” Yeonjun asks, and you snap out of your thoughts. You look around to see that everyone around you has left and you’re standing alone with him. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at this particular shot for a long time. Do you like it?” He laughs and you shake your head. “Not really.”

“Really? Why not? It’s well shot, the composition is good, the set design is top-notch and the clothes really complement the atmosphere.”

“That’s all true.” You agree, and he laughs–his sweet tinkering laugh that makes you smile. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like the model. It’s obvious the photographer was going for a femme fatale look but she doesn’t deliver. She’s supposed to have the face of an angel but the aura of the devil. She has to convey the monster within but she’s so afraid of not looking pretty, it just comes across as if she’s putting on an act rather than losing herself in the madness of it.”

“You really don’t like her, huh?” He laughs, and you furrow your eyebrows. “Well, it’s not really her fault so much as it’s the fault of the photographer. They should be directing the model on how to act and correcting them when they’re doing something wrong. This model is obviously gorgeous and she has the potential in her to look fierce, but with a weak direction like this, all you get is what basically amounts to a child dressing in her mother’s clothes.”

You hear someone huff behind you and turn around to see a very disgruntled man. “And to whom do I owe this very shrewd commentary on my work?”

Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

“I–I am… I’m nobody.” You squeak, wishing the monster from the next picture over would jump out of the frame and swallow you whole right now.

“That’s right, you are nobody.” The man haughtily agrees.

“Hey, man, she’s just giving her opinion.” Yeonjun attempts to interject but the man pays him no mind. “I am an award winning photographer. I don’t take the juvenile half-baked opinions of nobodies. Come back when you’ve actually achieved something that could hold a candle to what I’ve done over my career. Oh no wait, you’ll never amount to anything if these are the opinions your artistically challenged brain comes up with.”

“Hey–Yeonjun protests, a scene starting to form around you, but you quickly cut it short–the humiliation already too much for you to handle.

“I’m sorry.” You tear up, quickly turning and running away.

Through your tears, you can see the shocked and confused looks of the other patrons so you quickly keep your gaze to the ground until you’re out of the gallery and near Yeonjun’s car in the quiet parking lot where no one can see you cry.

No one except Yeonjun who followed closely after you. “Wait up! Baby–Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You babble, tears streaming down your face. “You shouldn’t have taken me to such a nice place. I didn’t deserve it.”

Why the hell did you even think you would ever make it in such a business. The best you’d be able to achieve is etsy store designs and wedding photographs. You’ve just messed up your first chance at making connections AND you fucked up your date with Yeonjun. You’re such a screw up.

“Woah, calm down. You didn’t do any of those things.” He holds you in his arms and you bury your face in his shirt, seeking comfort and a place to hide from him. “Don’t lie. I ruined everything.”

Maybe now he’ll even realize that you’re not as cool as he thought you were. That you’re not actually this artistic person he probably imagined you as and lose interest. He’d know you’re a fraud and dump you. Then you’d be left with no Beomgyu and no boyfriend. Just your loser self.

“You didn’t. But you crying might ruin my shirt.”

You gasp, pulling away and trying to step back but he holds you by the arms, giving you a mischievous grin. “I’m kidding. You can soak me through with tears and snot all you want.”

“You’re an asshole.” You smack his chest, pouting.

“Maybe. But I got you to stop crying.” He says and you frown. He actually did. While you might’ve preferred a more sweet approach to getting you to stop crying, this still worked.

You sigh, little cries bubbling up in your chest still. “I still am sorry. You wanted to do something nice for me and I ruined it with my big mouth.”

“No, you didn’t.” He retorts, wiping away the few stray tears still falling. “I loved hearing everything you had to say. I thought you made some really good points. He was just threatened that you could've done a way better job than he did.”

“You really think so?” You peer up at him, hopeful that he’s not just saying that to make you feel better.

“Yes, but don’t start crying again.” He laughs, kissing the pout you answer him with. “In fact, I’m free if you ever want to try it out. And I want you to know that I take very good direction.”

There goes the flirting again. The one that makes you wonder if he’s sincere or it’s just part of his charm.

"Yeah, we could do that." You say nervously, letting him prop your chin up to press a proper kiss onto your lips.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asks but you shake your head. “Not hungry. Too depressed.”

“Aw, baby, do you wanna head back home with me? I can make you forget all about that asshole.” He brushes your hair out of your face, kissing you again, and you know what he’s really asking.

You’ve already gone on a few dates with him. It’s not too soon for this. This is what people who like each other do after going on multiple dates. And if you want to get over Beomgyu, you’re going to have to completely give yourself to Yeonjun. You can’t be holding anything back in the hopes that Beomyu might want it someday.

You put on a brave smile for Yeonjun. “Yes. Let’s head home.”

____________________________

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous.” Yeonjun whispers to you, feeling you tense up as he tries to push the straps of your dress down your shoulders. “You’re beautiful."

Does he really think that? You can’t be that beautiful compared to the women he’s been with.

"Did I tell you how much I love this dress?" He asks, toying with the neckline, and you shake your head. "I love it. Makes you look like a movie star. So beautiful and sexy. Almost makes me not want to take it off."

His lips brush softly over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake before he pulls back to look you in the eye. "But I wanna see all of you. Will you let me see you, doll?"

You nod, holding your breath as he pulls the dress down your chest, kissing every inch of skin on the way until your breasts are bare and his plush lips are wrapped around your nipple.

“Yeonjun…” You whine, grabbing onto his hair as he kisses and kneads your breasts, slowly but surely turning you on.

“Does it feel good, doll?” Yeonjun smirks, one of his hands going between your legs to rub your pussy.

“Yes. Please.”

“I got you, baby.” His mouth moves down your body as he pulls your leg apart.

“Missed this.” He murmurs, reaching your pussy and giving it a wide lick as his finger prods at your opening and pushes through. “Oh, that went in easy.”

“I… I finger myself.” You admit bashfully, covering your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason but Yeonjun just laughs and leans up to remove your hands and kiss you. “That’s okay, makes my job easier.”

You give him a confused look but quickly realize what he means when he presses another finger into you, moving both of them in and out to loosen your pussy.

“See? All good. I’ll have you fucked open for me in no time.” He drawls, staring you down confidently as he works another finger into you. You tense up on that last one so he uses his thumb to rub your clit to get you to relax a bit. “There you go. Open up for me, doll. Let yourself feel good.”

You’re trying to, you really are. You’re trying to focus on the moment, the burning feeling moving up your body from your pussy that just needs to be quenched.

He’s doing it so well, hitting all the right spots, completely confident and self-assured. He knows exactly what he’s doing. No clumsiness. No unchecked lust. No uncontainable eagerness. Just steady, purposeful movements that touch you places you didn’t even know you were sensitive.

“Feels good.” You slur, pressing your pussy further into his hand, grinding against his palm to seek more of that mind-numbing stimulation. “More.”

“I know, baby. But let me take it slow for you.”

You shake your head. You don’t want it slow. You want him to lose himself in you. “No. Want you now.”

“Doll–”

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Make me yours.” Please. Please make me yours. Make me stop thinking about him.

Are you doing this for all the wrong reasons? Maybe, but how else are you supposed to get over Beomgyu? Don't they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one? Well, you'll just have to test that theory.

Yeonjun relents, shushing your needy mewls with kisses as he takes his hand away. “Hush, doll. I’ll fill you up again in a second.” He undoes his pants and pushes them off along with his underwear before grabbing you by the thighs and lining himself up with your pussy.

“You ready, baby?” He asks and you just stare at his cock.

Has Beomgyu already fucked her? He must have. He’s so needy to get his dick wet that he’d never miss up the chance.

You look up at Yeonjun. “Do it. Fuck me.”

Ok, so maybe you fingering yourself hadn’t fully prepared you for this. Maybe you should’ve taken a page out of Beomgyu’s book and gotten yourself a sex toy–a dildo to practice with before the real thing.

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes it slow despite your earlier demands, thrusting into you shallowly, letting you get used to his length bit by bit.

“Relax for me, doll.” He purrs gently, kissing all over your face as his hands massage your thighs, doing his best to get you to loosen up.

“Yes, Junnie.” You whimper, head falling back as you will your body to relax. You hear a soft chuckle coming from him. “Junnie? That’s cute.”

You blush as you realize what you’d said. You couldn’t help it. You love giving cute nicknames to your friends. And you guess your boyfriend too.

Yeah, because Yeonjun is your boyfriend now and boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. You know Yeonjun must have done it with all his previous girlfriends. It would’ve been weird if you didn’t.

Not that Yeonjun pressured you to do it or anything. But you know he wanted it. You wanted it too. You just couldn’t get Beomgyu out of your head. Which is why it’s good that you’re finally doing this–smothering that last candle you were holding out for him.

“You’re tensing again, doll.” Yeonjun tells you, kissing your neck. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. It feels like heaven when you squeeze down on my cock like that, but I want this to feel good for you too.”

Yes, it’s the right thing to do this… right?

“Okay…” You breathe, trying to relax and focus on the moment, letting your muscles unclench as Yeonjun presses his cock in and out of you.

Once you’re sufficiently relaxed, you start to actually feel good again, his cock feeling much better than your fingers ever did. It reaches places inside you that you never could by yourself. It’s so thick and long, dragging along your walls and stimulating those sensitive spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He drawls, taking note of the moans you were now letting out but he still takes it slow.

You breath hitches, his words too closely resembling what Beomgyu had said to you before, and for a split second you see Beomgyu over you instead of Yeonjun, his long hair tickling your face and his intense gaze burning you up.

“Yeonjun–” You gasp, digging your fingers into his arms. “Harder, please.”

Maybe if he fucks you harder, it’ll push Beomgyu out of your brain. Maybe if he fucks you harder, you could mistake his casual affection for the raw passion you crave.

“Are you sure, doll?” He asks, concerned.

“Yes, please, Yeonjun. Fuck me hard.” You insist, hoping your eyes convey how much you need it.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” He grabs your thighs, pressing them against the sides of your body and getting on top of you, driving his dick so deep inside you it makes you throw your head back in a long, choked out moan.

But he doesn’t let up, fucking into you again and again, bullying his cock into your virgin pussy at a brutal pace until you have no more breath to scream, and then he fucks you more.

“Baby, you with me?” Yeonjun pants, not letting up.

“Isss good….” You mumble, brain short-circuiting, caught by the fire spreading from your pussy to set your body alight. “S-so good.”

You vaguely hear him laugh through his own grunts, “Good girl, just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

You nod, tears brimming at your eyelashes at the overwhelming feeling. But you love it, the burning pleasure making its way through your body and making you forget about anyone else but Yeonjun.

“Junnie… soooo good…. Too g-good...” You cry, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it hammers in and out of you, your legs trying to slam together to take a break from the excessive pleasure, but they can’t. Not when Yeonjun’s hold on you is so bruising, his hips keeping at that brutal pace that makes you unable to even string along a full sentence.

“You asked for it, doll. Now be good and take it.” He grunts, bending down to pluck one of your nipples into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive nub.

“No–no—Junnie!” You scream, unable to take it anymore, your pussy clamping down on his cock as your whole body shudders with a blinding orgasm.

“Oh, fuck–baby, baby, I’m cumming.” Yeonjun groans, quickly taking his cock out as he cums on your belly, and replacing it with his fingers when you start crying at the emptiness.

“I got you, doll. I got you.” He murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he milks his cock of the last drops of his orgasm–letting you both down gently.

When you start squirming at the overstimulation–the fires retreating from your brain–he pulls his fingers out and bends down to kiss you. “It’s okay, baby. You did really well.”

You look up at him, the insecurity creeping back in again now that the mind-numbing pleasure is gone. “Did you like it? Did you like m-me?”

Were you good? Did you live up to his past lovers? Were you supposed to do something more? Be more proactive? Did he enjoy his time?

He chuckles. “Yes. You were great, baby. You felt so good.” He reassures you simply, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Okay.” His answer doesn't really give you the reassurance you needed. You don’t even know what you need him to do or say, but you know he’s not giving it to you. And he notices.

“You okay, doll?” He asks, giving you a skeptical look and you nod. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t appear to be convinced by your answer. “Are you sure? Wanna take a shower?”

You shake your head, getting off the bed and beginning to dress yourself up again. “No, that’s okay. I can take a shower at home.”

“Home? You’re not staying over?” He gives you a look of confusion which you reciprocate. “Oh. I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

You blink at him, genuinely unsure. You didn’t want to presume anything. You don’t have experience doing this. You don't know if you’re supposed to stay or if it’s too soon.

“Of course. I’m not just gonna make you go home after we fucked.” He chuckles, pulling you back down to the bed. “You have to stay the night.”

“I don’t know…” You hesitate. If you stay, Beomgyu will probably know what you've done. He'll know that you and Yeonjun had sex. But if you leave you'd be choosing Beomgyu again. You need to let go of him.

“Okay.”

___________________

You end up having a nice time with Yeonjun once you get over your anxiety and trepidation of losing your virginity to someone other than Beomgyu. It's silly but you suppose on some level you thought you'd have your first time with him.

And it's not just that. For a second you let the insecurity get to you and you wondered if Yeonjun would act differently now that you had sex. That he'd show his true face and break your heart, but he doesn’t. He is as sweet as ever, giving you some of his clothes and staying up in bed with you, having those precious pillow talks that are so important early in a relationship.

He is easy to talk to, and when he does that cute thing where he scrunches his nose up and pokes his tongue out as he's teasing you, it makes your heart flutter.

You find out that singing isn’t his only passion--that dancing is his first love. He even gets up out of the cozy comfort of the bed to show you a few dance moves when you whine and insist he shows you. You watch him with a big smile on your face as he executes them so well even in his bedroom, his movements so fluid yet precise, it’s mesmerizing. And when he’s done he smiles that sweet smile of his and lunges back into bed with you and you take him into your arms as if he could actually belong there.

It was so unlike how he usually is on stage and in front of others that it tugs in your heartstrings a bit, making you feel special for being allowed to witness this.

You fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms, forgetting about that aching feeling of emptiness in the center of your chest for a few blissful hours.

And in the morning you even make breakfast together. Or more like he makes you breakfast while you make coffee.

“Oh, man. I haven’t had a proper breakfast in sooo long.” You moan, digging into the omelet and sausages he made you.

“You don’t cook?” He asks, smiling as he watches you eat.

“Nope. Me and Beomgyu are hopeless. We’ve almost burned the kitchen too many times that now we don’t even bother.”

“Then what do you guys eat?”

“Frozen goods and slimy take-out. We’re building a formidable gut microbiome. We’re actually part of the country’s biological weapons program.”

Yeonjun laughs. “Well, sorry for ruining your trajectory by feeding you actual food.”

“Ah, well, Beomgyu can carry the torch by himself.” You shrug, mouth full of food.

“You guys are really close, huh?” He asks, and the mood grows a bit gloomy. You chew slowly, thinking your words through before answering. “Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“He’s more than that though, isn’t he?” He pushes and you hesitate.

Once again, you know exactly what he's asking, and you’re faced with a decision to make between an uncertain future with Yeonjun, nurturing a candlelight that is so shaky it might get snuffed out at any moment, or live on hopes and dreams with Beomgyu, praying for the sun to break out from behind the clouds after years of waiting for it to no avail.

“No.” You finally say, looking up at him, trying to be decisive, hoping it will come naturally with time. “No, he’s not. Not anymore. We’ve agreed to be exclusive, you and I, and I’m serious about it.”

Yeonjun's smile is slow, cautious. “Good to hear.”

Do either of you actually believe it? Do you really think you can move on from Beomgyu? You don’t know but you know that you have to try and you know that you'd like to try with Yeonjun.

________________________________

Still, heading home you feel uneasy. Like you'd done something wrong you’re going to get punished for, and so to ease the guilt and tension, you grab something on the way with you–just some donuts and coffee, a small token of peace, knowing Beomgyu would be hungry and that the best way to get into his good graces is to offer him junk food. It's not like he was going to make himself breakfast or anything anyway.

When you step into the apartment, you find him sitting on the couch just as you had expected.

“Wanna eat? I got you your favorite donuts.” You wave the food next to your head in lieu of a greeting.

He stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything. Shit, does he know? Can he see it on you? Probably, since you’re still wearing Yeonjun’s clothes.

But he just says, “Sure.” and makes room for you on the couch.

You accept it gladly, watching as he takes the donuts out and offers you some. “No, thanks, I already ate.”

Once again, he pauses, studying you for a second before looking away and taking a bite of his donut.

“Ugh, I was starving. This is the real stuff.” He groans and you grin. "Yeah. This is food as God intended it, processed and fried until it barely resembles food." You hum in agreement, making him giggle.

For a second you think you're off the hook. For a second you think things can just be normal like he wanted. But then he asks you something that stops you cold.

"How was the date?"

You study his expression, trying to decipher a hidden agenda in the question. Is this a trick? Is he asking just so he can say something mean about it? Is he going to act vindictive once you tell him how it went?

But he looks genuinely curious to your scrutinizing eyes, and so you decide to just tell him the truth. "Ugh, awful. You know how completely unaware I am of my surroundings? Well, I started criticizing this one photo and the photographer was standing right behind me."

Beomgyu gasps, a piece of food flying out of his mouth at you. "No! What did he say?"

You brush it off in disgust. "He said I was a nobody."

Beomgyu's face twists up in anger as he puts the food down. "What the fuck? He said that?"

"Well, I said it and he just confirmed it." You explain sheepishly, still feeling the sting of the humiliation even now. "He said he has all these awards and I have nothing and never will and he won't listen to someone like me."

"He's a fucking idiot.” Beomgyu rages, immediately jumps to your defense, “What, he thinks just because he has awards that he's the only one who can have an opinion? You know most of these awards are just rich people smelling their own farts, right? Real talent like yours cannot be measured."

Beomgyu is as fiercely defensive of you as he has always been and it brings a small smile to your face. However, the wound that the encounter opened up is still raw and just that isn’t enough to make you feel better.

"Well, I wish it would be measured a little bit. You know we've both been doing this for years but while your band is getting bigger and bigger–and I'm so happy for you–I seem to be getting nowhere." You tell him glumly. You haven’t gotten any recognition for your work even though you work your ass off, dreaming up concepts, executing them to the best of your ability, and trying to get someone to notice.

"Hey, hey, you will. I am certain of it. No one this talented can go unseen for long. They will notice you one day and they will be blown away." He scoots closer to you, holding your face in his warm hands and caressing your cheeks lovingly. "And hey, if all else fails, you always have that backup plan of being our main stylist and photographer. Me and Yeonjun will make sure of it. And not as a sympathy job either but because we truly believe in you."

"You would work with Yeonjun again for me?" You ask, touched. Beomgyu has been very stand-offish with Yeonjun ever since you started dating him. He only interacts with him the bare minimum to still allow the band to function. It’s not ideal but at least they’re not fighting anymore.

"I would do anything for you." He smiles at you, the smile not quite reaching his sad eyes.

Has his eyes always looked like this? So melancholic? Still, you feel comfort looking into them. You feel love and familiarity. You feel home.

You do your best not to tear up, knowing if you let that dam crumble you'll end up saying things you'll regret. So you hold it together, despite how much you ache to throw yourself in his arms. You missed this. You missed him. You miss what you wish you could be.

But then he takes his hand away and asks quietly, “Did you spend the night with him?”

“Yes.” You admit in a small voice, heart hammering against your chest.

“Got it.” He says simply, and it’s somehow worse than him getting angry. There is a sense of loss there that you can’t explain but it aches, deep and inaccessible.

“Thanks for the food.” He says, getting up and throwing the rest of it in the trash.

"Wait. Where are you going?” You ask when you see him heading for the door.

“Out.” He says simply, seeming to be in a hurry to leave but you’re not ready to let him go yet. “Can't you stay for a bit?"

"I'm sorry. I've got something to get to. But I'll catch up with you later, okay?" He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s out of the door.

“Okay.” You mumble quietly to yourself, letting the tears fall freely, having no reason to hide them anymore.

_____________________________

A/N: AHHHH two more chapter left. the end is nigh and only one boy can win. as always feedback gives me the motivation to write and upload faster. also just to let you know i will be giving patreon a try and an alternative ending to this fic will be published with the losing boy there.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. which boy do you want oc to end up with (voting has no bearing on the final results though i guess now it doesn't matter because we'll have an alternative ending anyway)

Taglist: @blxxsss @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #dom!idol #sub!reader #fem!reader

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mcflymemes · 7 months

Text

AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS * assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.

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allthelovehes · 29 days

Text

Breaking Barriers*

Summary: Y/N is in her mid-twenties and still a virgin, but she decides she no longer wants to wait for marriage as the tension between her and her best friend rises.

Pairing: Bestie!Harry x Virgin!Y/N

Word count: 9.1K

Warnings: Protected sex, smut, p in v, deflowering, virginity talk, first times, oral f receiving.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N: Welcome to day 8 of posting daily! Ayooo, this was requested multiple times and I actually think it turned out sooo stinking cute omfg.

Being in her mid-twenties and a virgin is something not many people can say, let alone be proud of. It's something that Y/N chose and could have changed at any time. She could've given it away and tossed it to the next attractive man who looked her way but she didn't. She decided to save herself for marriage, even if it seemed stupid and cliché to some people.

For Y/N, her first time was important. It was a milestone in her life. Her body is a temple. It is to be cherished, worshipped, and honoured. Like most women, she wanted her first time to be something she wouldn't forget. She wanted it to be special and done with someone she loved and trusted.

So, Y/N waited. And if waiting for marriage meant skipping out on hook-ups? Then that was just fine by her. No sweat off her back. It took a while, but she was sure when she met the right guy it'd all be worth it.

Now, she wasn't opposed to making out and getting frisky. Y/N is as attracted to men as the next person and isn't afraid to have some fun with it, it just doesn't go much beyond hands. She sees kissing and touching that isn't penetrative to be healthy and normal.

Getting a partner, however, was the tricky bit. Most of them want to go all the way and have sex before they even get to know each other and the rest either take her for granted or have this kink about it, they like the thought of fucking a 'treasure' that no one's ever had or touched before.

Either way, she usually ends up losing interest in the relationship quickly. It seems the right man to spend the rest of her life with was a rare find. She didn't know if it was possible or if her expectations were too high. Or perhaps, being picky was the problem.

Eventually, she accepted it would take time for her to find someone. A time that she was willing and able to give. And right now, it was just a waiting game. To meet the guy whose arm she'd want to loop with hers for the rest of her life and create a beautiful life together in the process.

Just as Y/N was nodding off to sleep, a series of notifications on her phone rudely interrupted her sleep. Furrowing her brows, she sat up and lifted the device from her bedside table.

The screen lit up and showed who was texting her. It was her best friend, Harry. She slid her finger across the screen and a mess of messages appeared.

Harry Hi! *drunk selfie* So are we playing Scrabble tomorrow? I miss you and want to see you

Y/N If you still remember tomorrow and want to, sure.

Harry Sweet. Whatcha up to?

Y/N At home. About to go to sleep

Harry Oh sorry. You were probably sleeping

Y/N You're fine. I only just got into bed.

Harry What are you wearing, love?

Y/N Don't make me block you

Harry Ow ;( Why?

Y/N I'm too sober to have this conversation with you.

Harry *picture of him and Y/N* Look at us all cute, drunk out of our minds.

Y/N Very cute. Goodnight, Harry.

Harry Hey, one more question before you dooooooze

Y/N Go on.

Harry What are you wearing?

“Idiot.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself. With a few quick button presses, Y/N replied with a picture of her in her silk pyjamas, and then sent an audio message: “I'm fully clothed, in bed, covered with my duvet, about to sleep and dream of ways to torture you.”

She puts her phone down so she can actually catch up on her rest. Just as her head hits the pillow again, she gets another message from Harry. Pouting, she swiftly opens the message and swipes up the audio.

“Aww, you'll dream of me?”

For some reason, Y/N can hear a smug smirk in his voice and decides to just ignore it. Putting her phone on silent and plopping it back down on her bedside table, Y/N yawns and snuggles deeper under the covers.

Just as her eyelids begin to shut for good, something within her is stirring that makes it hard for her to sleep. Y/N feels hot all of a sudden, making her shimmy and pull the duvet up further.

What had happened in those final moments of her text conversation with Harry, who was now busy scrolling through pictures of the two together and rereading their texts? Well, it seemed it's woken up a side of her she wasn't too familiar with. Resting her hand on the front of her silk shorts, Y/N could feel she was wet and aching for some touch.

“For fuck sake.” She cursed and closed her eyes. Why now? She thinks as she pulls her hand away, afraid to do anything. She knows why, but doesn't want to admit it.

It's because of Harry. His ridiculous flirting skills have managed to push a few buttons. This has never happened before. Why is he suddenly affecting her? She blames his goofy but heartfelt selfie. God, those hazel eyes looked perfect paired with that signature golden brown fluffy mop of hair, the stupid look on his face and the two fingers up in the air.

Y/N can't deny she is attracted to Harry. What wasn't to be attracted to? When it came to his personality, she was rather fond. He has always been sensitive, goofy and yet extremely smart and serious when needed. And, of course, she couldn't forget to mention how lucky he is. That boy was drop-dead gorgeous. From his curly locks to his biceps, she can go on and on and on about what she liked about him.

His looks definitely played a factor in his reputation with women and it was no surprise their friendship became somewhat of a hot topic with his fans. If only they knew the truth. There was nothing going on between the two other than a strong friendship.

Harry is an absolute gentleman to her. He took care of her in a way that set her standards very high when it comes to men, maybe that's why she still hasn't found a man. However, the sexual tension that had been building up lately between the two was another story.

It was no secret that Harry is a good kisser. The amount of stories she has heard made her feel a twinge of jealousy every time. She remembered thinking how nice it would be to feel what his lips were like on hers, how soft they would be and how they would taste. He's always bragging about the tongue action that gets women all hot and bothered. Then, she wondered how good he would be using his mouth elsewhere and- No. She can't think like this. Stop. It's creepy and weird. So just, stop.

Then, her phone beeps again in her hand, indicating another message coming from Harry. A rush of warmth spread through her stomach and Y/N noticed she was tense again. Biting down on her bottom lip, she opened the message.

Harry *drunk selfie on the side of his bed* I'm home, goodnight love

She stares at the picture, her stomach dropping. Heat swells through her body and the feeling overwhelms her, making her squirm against the soft sheets. Swallowing, she holds the phone up higher and glares at the picture intensely, the area between her legs clenching. It's not as if he looks amazing. No. He looks grumpy, his brows furrowed and a blank stare in his eyes. He just looks so cute, kissable even.

“Enough.” She whispers under her breath and shoves the device back down onto the nightstand. She gets up and goes to the bathroom, turning the faucet and splashing cold water all over her burning skin.

Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Seeing him after her fantasies of him invading her thoughts would be an interesting development. Hopefully, it will fizzle away quickly and everything will go back to normal. Y/N thinks, getting back into bed and fixing her pillows just so. With a drawn-out sigh, she puts out the lights and shuts her eyes. ***

In the morning, there was only one thought running through Y/N's mind, and that was seeing Harry. Even after she woke up, went about her day, she couldn't wait to text him to see if he even remembered the arrangement for her to come over and play Scrabble.

With each message sent, she left an expectant eye trained on her screen, waiting for the three little dots to bubble up and indicate a response. Meanwhile, she paced back and forth between her couch and the kitchenette, tidying up without knowing why. Everything was already spotless. She straightened pillows, fluffed rugs, sorted candles, and shuffled trinkets, anything to distract herself and keep from pestering Harry.

After a few hours of constant upkeep, she finally gets a response.

Harry Sorry I missed your messages, kinda had a wild night lol Are we still playing tonight? I have wine, you got the Scrabble?

Y/N We're playing but the question is... will you be in a fit state for it ;)

Harry Ha-ha. Funny.

Y/N Always. See you later. X

Harry See you. I'll leave the front door open for you. Byeeeee

And that was it. The brief conversation between the two fuelled her emotions. On one hand, she was completely thrilled to be seeing her best friend again. To be in his presence and enjoy a wonderful game night is very exciting.

On the other hand, she felt a wave of dread overcome her, her heart racing at the thought. She brushed it off. Ignored it. Why should she be dreading seeing one of her best friends? That's absurd.

Scrapping her plan of getting all dolled up to go visit him, Y/N finds herself only comfortable enough to get changed into leggings and a t-shirt. Although Harry has seen her in her casual attire, she is feeling oddly self-conscious right now. She doesn't know why and it's getting rather irritating.

He is her best friend for God's sake! If anything, she should be feeling as comfortable and confident around him as possible because he will always accept her for the way she is.

Shaking her head, she gets ready to make her way to his house. Despite it being 3 pm, Y/N grabs a bottle of her favourite white and puts it in her bag and with that, she is out the door.

Upon arrival, she reaches for the door and opens it. Peering around the door frame, she manages to catch sight of Harry stepping out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

He is humming under his breath as he tousles his damp curls with the towel. Strolling across the room to his bedroom, he disappears behind the door.

“Hey, Harry!” She calls out to him as she enters. Smiling brightly, she drops her bag on his countertop.

“Hey.” He calls back. “Give me a sec. I'll be out in a minute.”

Y/N nods, despite him not being able to see it, and makes her way to his sofa, taking her usual spot at one end. Closing her eyes, she rests her head back and takes a deep breath. She already feels exhausted from the many random things she has done throughout the day.

“Do you want to eat first or play first?” Harry finally walks into the living room, wearing a grey sweatsuit.

Peeking through an eyelid, Y/N says. “I'm not hungry. It's still early“ while her inner-self cheered at his appearance, making her giddy.

With a nod, Harry pulled two glasses from the kitchen cabinet placing them on the coffee table. Sliding down next to her, he opened the bottle and poured their drinks. While he set up the board game, she relaxed and casually looked him over. He looked gorgeous as ever, and always put together even if he was barely dressed.

Green eyes flicking up to catch her gaze, Harry chuckles softly before asking. “Nervous?”

“Huh? Why would I be nervous?” Her mouth corners turn up, her heart fluttering.

“Last time we played you weren't very happy.” He shrugged, reminding her how he completely beat her at the game.

“Right. But this time, I'm going to beat you.” She confidently nods and picks up a bag of letters. Harry leans over with a smug smirk on his face as he pulls his own bag.

“Hmm, so confident.” He snorts, lining up his tiles.

“Mhm.” Y/N straightens out her tiles.

Quirking a brow, Harry wonders “Famous last words?”

With a sharp nod and a cheeky smile, she places her first tiles down on the Scrabble board. “Nah, you're going down.”

Harry chokes on his drink and starts coughing, his eyes burning a hole into hers. Staring back, Y/N raised a curious brow. Once he could speak again, he cleared his throat and let out a hearty laugh.

“Alright, so what if I am?” Harry's thick accent cut through as a deep dimpled grin blossomed on his face. She found her heart rate increasing and had to look away, willing her red cheeks to go away.

Swallowing, she began her game. The opening word of DOUBLE wasn't too promising for Y/N, seeing that that was her highest scoring word but she wasn't giving up just yet.

Over the first few minutes, they managed to put down a few good words and Y/N was ahead with a more than decent lead.

“Shit.” Harry breathed, leaning forward to assess his words. His eyes flickered around the board before sighing and ruffling his tousled mop. “I'm fucked.”

Y/N chuckles and rolls her eyes, taking another sip from her glass. Glancing over to Harry who was deep in thought, Y/N reached up and scratched the nape of her neck with one hand, her gaze drifting around the room. As she turned to face him again, she was caught off guard when their eyes immediately locked. Her heart stuttered.

Tearing her eyes away from his gaze, Y/N shifted uncomfortably, then decided to lean forward to select a letter at random. As she placed it on the board, she looks at him once more to find that the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

'Shit' she thought, Harry wasn't playing fair. Surely, he knew that looking at her like that made her drop focus. Attempting to save her dignity, she bit her bottom lip, suppressing a shy smile before raising an eyebrow.

“Is this your strategy to beat me?” Y/N challenged. “Suck me into your sexiness and take my turn? How lame.”

Harry spluttered, taken aback by her comment. He didn't really know how to respond, seeing his best friend make an unashamedly flirtatious comment for the first time. Looking away, he fiddled with his hoop earring.

“Wait. Was that... was that supposed to fluster me, Y/N?” He playfully scoffed. As Harry turned to look at her, he was surprised to find an amused grin playing on her lips. He thought he would find at least a small glint of guilt in her eyes for her playfulness, and was surprised when he didn't find anything other than playful curiosity.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it looks like I've got the upper hand now.”

“You wish.” Harry stared back at her for a moment longer, a playful glimmer in his eyes. A mischievous smirk curled up on the corner of his lips. She was aware that the lighthearted banter had led to a bit more, making her senses go crazy.

Y/N decided it's best to end the conversation there and start her round. Scanning the board, she's looking for a spot to place her letters. Wanting to lean a bit into their flirty banter from before, she decides to continue their tension with a bit of teasing.

Sifting her hand into her bag, she pulls out a few letters. Placing them onto the centre of the board where they intersect, she spells out 'erotic' and draws four points from the tile rack.

Erotic was an interesting word to play, for sure. Especially when it's put into the context of the new sexual tension between the two. So far, Harry has been trying to fluster her with his smouldering looks and cheeky grins, but Y/N is unrelenting. She takes pride in her willingness to fight back against the flirting and his attempts to get her distracted.

She sits back in satisfaction, proud at what she has accomplished. Glancing over to Harry, she felt herself swell with self-pride to see his face light up with surprise, making him actually speechless for a change.

Clearing his throat, Harry gathers himself and sits up. “Hmm.” he hummed, rolling the idea around in his head. With a smug grin, Y/N could tell he's thinking of a response; a comeback. After a few seconds of consideration, he moved his body forward and added three letters to the word. Using the letters he had received on the double letter area, he spelled out 'climax' using the c of her word.

A slight shiver went down Y/N's back at the addition to the word. Laughing and rolling her eyes, she fished out a few letters and added another word. Subtly shifting a little closer to him, she placed her letters down on the right-hand side of his spelling, close to his hand. After putting down her 'desire', she snatched her eyes away from the scrabble board and fixed her stare on him.

Both of them stay awfully silent while their bodies are almost touching. Y/N is tense, trying hard not to breathe too heavily. Meanwhile, Harry was in complete silence, not knowing what to say or do. He is aware of the tension between the two of them but he also wants to respect Y/N's boundaries and maybe tone down his feelings a bit. There's an inevitable tension and she's showing no sign of easing off. Harry was only further proven by her gentle voice in his ear.

“Now whose turn is it?”

Unable to meet her eyes just yet, he focuses on the dizzying words on the board and releases a slow, staggered breath. It was so hard not to put his arm around her, tug her in close and inhale her beautiful scent. Or run his hands along her arms, giving them a gentle squeeze, he craved the touch so badly. He finally took a breath and peered down at his letters, trying not to get too distracted by the growing sexual tension.

Y/N couldn't deny the feeling of warmth that had settled in her stomach since their game began, the warmth that made her tingle between her legs. She felt tempted to reach out and touch him, make contact and hopefully send a good buzz all the way down to his lower body.

Harry's fingers fiddle through his letters, barely paying attention to the little pieces in front of him. His eyes glance at Y/N, then move back to the Scrabble board. He thinks of his next word to play, something that is a little more suggestive.

“Umm...” Harry holds up a little tile, rubbing his fingertip over the surface as he thinks, his dimples pushing into his cheeks. Then, they sink right back out. He shakes his head and returns to sifting through the multiple letters in his bag.

Throwing one piece back into the depths of the bag, his index finger picks up another tile. The corner of his mouth turns up and he is finally confident with what he wants to spell out on the Scrabble board, so he gets to work. He needs an outlet from the fluttering of his chest when she's this close.

Quickly placing down the letters, he spells out the word 'horny'. Biting down on his bottom lip, he feels satisfied by the suggestiveness of his word and glances at Y/N.

Pursing her lips, Y/N tilts her head and gives a disbelieving smile. Harry looks taken aback by her quiet response.

“What? Did I read the room wrong?” He chuckles nervously, brows furrowing.

Looking at his face, she has to bite back a grin. She can read the mixed emotions all over his face. He's afraid to scare her away and reveal his true feelings, especially after the intense game of teasing. He's right. But she's also very pleased with the growing tension.

With a cheeky chuckle, she shakes her head. “No, I guess you read the room correctly.” Biting her lip, she quickly leans forward, adding letters next to his word on the right to spell out the word, 'Fuck'. Harry looks from her to the board, biting back a smirk.

“Is this your way of suggesting we play strip Scrabble? Should I get ready to lose my pants?” he jokes, nudging her shoulder, fighting the urge to break his boundaries. Not able to cope, Y/N just lets out a forced chuckle.

“Shut up, H.” Her voice broke. All she wanted was to feel his hands on her and bury herself into his chest.

Neither of them is paying attention to the score or to the other's gaze, they just lock their eyes together and absorb the heat, trying to predict what happens next. Harry didn't know what to say, nor did he think Y/N would, yet again, follow suit and gently lean forward.

After breaking from their little intimate session, Y/N looks at the board, wondering what their next move should be. She has to admit, these last few moves were very suggestive, and she is slowly catching Harry's point of wanting to touch her and have some alone time.

“Are you going to be mad at me if I do this?” Y/N muttered.

“Do what?”

Staring at him, Y/N ignores the thought and puts her tiles in a new spot. Only this time, she's adding all the letters remaining in her tile bag. There is no going back now, considering the board was almost completely filled up now.

She spells out the word 'wet' next to her first word. Shooting Harry a nonchalant, calm expression and staring at him for a reaction, she saw his reaction immediately. His eyes dropped to the board, then shot back up to her face. Heat, lust, and want flashed across his eyes.

An amused, surprised noise escapes his throat, then his lips tilt up into a shit-eating grin. “For real?”

“Yeah.” Y/N laughs in a rush. “I guess my dirty mind kicked in.”

“Your dirty mind, huh?” A glint of excitement flashes through his eyes and he begins to eye her body up and down. He can't deny the growing urge to touch every inch of her but he can't break her boundaries. Trying to erase those thoughts, Harry grins playfully, then adds a few of his own letters alongside her tiles to play a different word even though he knows he already lost the game.

Giving her a mischievous look, he reveals the word 'boner' and Y/N inhales sharply. They sit in silence for a moment, then Y/N cracks and breaks the silence.

“Oh fuck.” She laughs, the deep seated sensation between her legs not fading. Her eyes scan down to Harry's crotch, attempting to see if what he said is true. It's getting increasingly obvious that Y/N and Harry aren't actually playing a game anymore. Harry places his hands on his lap, covering his crotch from her wandering eyes. He laughs nervously, avoiding her gaze.

“I'm sorry.” He mutters, afraid of her response and of what she thinks.

Y/N bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. He waited anxiously for her reaction. One thing was for certain, the sexual tension has grown to unimaginable levels, the game forgotten. Finally, she glances back up at him, and she couldn't keep herself in control any longer.

Leaning closer, Y/N rests her forehead on his. He is taken aback, not moving a muscle. Shutting her eyes, she leans in to kiss him. Their lips connect and they close their eyes, relishing the moment. After a couple of seconds, they pull back, not sure whether that was the right decision. Her insides tell her to keep going, to taste him more. So with half a mind, her arm reaches forward to grab his shirt, wanting him closer and craving the touch. She looks up at his face and goes in for a much longer, sensual kiss as she straddles his lap.

For a moment, Harry looks at her questioningly before diving back in. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, it deepens the kiss as they feel electricity course through their bodies. His arms make their way down her sides and he squeezes her thighs as she unconsciously grinds on him. One of his hands run up her back, gripping her hair lightly while the other hand grips her waist. A quiet moan escapes Y/N's throat at his grip on her, further adding fuel to his fire. He gives a low growl before breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down her jaw to her neck, leaving love bites down her skin.

“God, you're killing me, Y/N. Do you know that?” He groans into her, making her giggle a bit. Harry's heart burst with joy when he heard her laugh, she's the only person who could make him happy. He pulls back and grins at her then leans back in, kissing her sweetly and lifting her up. Y/N grips his shirt tightly, not wanting to be apart from him. Placing her on her back, he carefully gets on top of her, supporting his weight so he doesn't squish her, and his hands started roaming her body. Suddenly, she pushes him off of her a little and sits back up, feeling dizzy and wanting to gain her composure. Their hearts beat in synchrony and their breaths were heavy.

Harry is concerned by her quick push back, worry in his eyes. “I'm sorry, did I do anything wrong?”

“Are you kidding? That was great. I just... I..” Stuttering over her words, Y/N can't help but giggle as she ruffles her hair and leans against the throw pillow behind her. Harry is now assured that she is okay. Leaning forward, he kisses the side of her head, trying to soothe her so she'd be comfortable enough to tell him. “I want more.” She finally utters.

There was a beat of stunned silence. He shakes his head as his lips curve up into a small smirk. She mimics his expression. Lifting her chin up with his fingers, she meets his gaze. Both of them look down at her plump, red, and wet lips. Then he captures her lips with his, but not with so much restraint as before. He kisses her more passionately, hands cupping her face as he tasted her, kissed her harder, swiped his tongue against hers.

“Are you absolutely sure, Y/N? There's no going back from this.” He breathes against her lips.

Looking into his soft eyes, she can't think about anything else but him and his touch. Deep down, she always knew there was more. As she tilts her head to the side, she bites her lip and runs her hands through his hair. The feeling is a sweet relief, it is exactly how it looked and felt, just like in her dreams.

“I know. I think I've always known it was you. You're too captivating. You make me crazy.” She chuckles, blushing. “Also..” Placing her hands on his chest, she continues. “If I wasn't interested, I wouldn't be doing all this right now.” Y/N breathes, making him grin from ear to ear.

“What about waiting until marriage though? Are you sure you want to do this?”

Giggling, Y/N nods her head and bites her lip, wanting more. “Screw that.”

A shocked expression flickers across his face. Shrugging his shoulders, he leans closer. Y/N's breath hitches as Harry gently pushes her back down on the sofa, propping his forearms on either side of her head to support his weight, and placing his legs between hers. They felt each other's breath as their chests rise and fall with each in-take, anticipating what would happen next.

“Is this okay? Are you really sure, because once we start, I won't be able to stop.” His face inches closer, scanning every inch of her expression, her beautiful eyes and lips before stopping halfway.

Giving him a quick kiss, she nods and runs a hand through his hair again, then bites her lip while gazing at his seductive eyes. Her body trembles with excitement and nervousness. Trying to catch her breath, her mind is drowning in lust. She's just happy that they're alone and, after many years of dreaming about this day, the second it is finally here she is loving it.

“I'm very sure. In fact, why don't we go somewhere more...comfortable?” She whispers into his ear. Dizzy and sweating, Harry feels the bulge in his pants tightening, pressing against the fabric of his boxers as he smirks in agreement. Hastily lifting her in his arms, he crashes his lips to hers, missing their intoxicating touch.

Without pausing for thought, Y/N wraps her legs around Harry's waist as he supports her with his strong arms and makes his way towards his bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, she yelps playfully.

“Are you okay?” Harry's worried face appears in front of her. Shocked and caught off guard, Y/N bites back a smile as she pulls his shirt to collide his lips with hers again. She found herself breathing hard, unable to control it. He pulled back, meeting her eyes.

Y/N sat up slightly, reached down, and began slowly pulling Harry's shirt up his torso. The material bunched up under his arms and she broke the kiss, to slip the material off. With her pulse increasing as the intimacy heightened, she raked her eyes up his smooth, lightly bronzed, chest and torso. It was a beautiful sight. Pulling her eyes back up to his gorgeous eyes, his darkened with desire as he raised his brows in question. Instead of replying, Y/N pushed lightly on his chest, telling him without words to lie back on the bed. With his gaze never leaving hers, he lay back and waited.

Keeping the eye contact, Y/N pushed herself up and straddles over Harry's lap. His hands automatically came to rest on her thighs, the touch sending bolts of energy through her. Harry was such a tease and the way he touched her and glanced up at her was enough to get her off right there. All it would take is one little touch.

With excitement, Y/N pulls her own shirt over her head, exposing her bra for the first time to him. Of course, he had seen her in a bikini before. But the lace see-through fabric of her bra is completely different and it gets him wild. Harry watches carefully as Y/N bites her lip and leans down. Connecting their lips, she can feel his erection pressing against her.

Straddling his hips to meet his arousal, she begins to run her hands down his arms, squeezing firmly and drawing a low sound from his lips. Her body rubs up against Harry's erection and he gives a deep, low groan. Not once breaking the kiss, their hunger intensified for one another.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N presses her chest up against his and his hand slowly roams around to grab her ass, giving it a soft squeeze, making her moan. His hands then reach a bit up, sticking his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and pulling the fabric over her ass. Y/N arches her hips a bit, allowing her leggings to come off a little further.

Harry lets his hands roam up her back as Y/N nibbles on his bottom lip, slowly grinding her sex into his. His hand nudges against her thigh, motioning for her to get off of him so he can take the leggings all the way down her legs. He slides the fabric down Y/N's thighs and knees and her leggings pool at her ankles. Seeing her bare legs, he can tell just how wet she is right now. She hastily kicks off the leggings, letting them fall to the floor.

Watching her closely, his eyes scan her body, taking in the full view. She can't deny how happy she is to see Harry admiring her, appreciating what he sees, loving all of her. It's exactly what she wanted, a man to worship her, to feel loved. And Harry makes her feel those exact things and so much more.

Pushing his hips up, he quickly gets rid of his own sweatpants before he guides her back to straddle him again. One of Harry's large hands glides along Y/N's thighs to her hips before snaking around to her lower back, where he applies a slight pressure, encouraging her to grind against him.

“You're going to be the end of me.” Harry chuckles, bucking up slightly to meet her grinding hips. The feeling drives her wild as the fabric of his boxers brushes up against her lace panties.

“Harry.” Y/N moans, letting herself move in sync with Harry's perfect thrusts. Feeling Y/N's wetness seeping through her panties and onto his boxers, the friction building between their heat is burning, and he needs more of her. But he wants her to set the pace. His lips part and their eyes stay locked together. Their heart rates are picking up and their movement speeds up. The slow build was like a torture, but Harry looks so damn gorgeous and lustful, making it worth it.

“We're really doing this.” Y/N whispers out with a giggle.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes.” She mumbles, smiling. Y/N pushes herself up a bit, hands bracing on his chest, and spreads her legs a bit more so she can angle her center more. Then she slowly grinds into him. His teeth capture his lip and his eyes shift to take in the movement of their bodies. Harry's hands leave Y/N's hips and he grasps her ass, holding her as she rides him. Grinding harder and faster, Y/N is enjoying the sweet sensation it's giving her. Little sounds leave her mouth as she swivels her hips.

Sitting up and pressing her chest into his, Harry grabs her hips tighter and pulls her down, bucking his hips up for friction and creating a delicious burn. Looking up to her face, she has the hottest expression he has ever seen. If she keeps staring at him like that, he thinks he might burst. There is no way he's going to last much longer, which is why he needs to take care of her first.

Slowing down the pace, Harry slides his fingers up her back and takes a hold of her bra clasp. “May I?” He asks in a hoarse voice. A light glaze shines in his eyes as he keeps the eye contact with her.

“Yes.” Y/N smiles, nuzzling her face into his. Leaning down, she carefully kisses him before sitting back. “I want you so much, Harry.” She admits, to his surprise.

“Oh fuck.” Harry swears, bucking his hips up for friction. Groaning and rubbing his erection as well as he undoes the clasp of her bra and it loosens around her body. Slowly slipping it off, the fabric slides down her arms, exposing her breasts. Harry stops breathing for a moment, admiring the view and absolutely loving it.

“You're absolutely gorgeous, Y/N. I couldn't get you off my mind if I tried.” He confesses, meeting her gaze, causing the girl to blush immensely. Moving his hands up her sides and sliding them up her stomach to her boobs, her mind begins to race as she feels herself getting more and more wet.

Harry's calloused fingertips brush over her hardened nipples, his lustful eyes still gazing into hers as her jaw goes slack. Grinding her hips faster and moving them to a steady rhythm, the both of them pant as their desire grows, aching for more. Throwing her head back with a moan, Harry's lips suddenly latch on to one of her soft nipples. Her hand cups the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair as she sucks.

“Harry, I need you, please.” She whimpers, begging him. The desperate tone of her voice makes Harry shudder, a familiar hot tightness coiling inside him, threatening to unravel as she rides him. He is swift to lay her down on his soft bed, her head on his pillow, then gets back to her breasts, sliding a hand down to her panties. Harry kisses a trail of butterfly kisses down her body, leaving marks down her abdomen as he does so. Her fingers go back to grasping his hair and pulling lightly as he makes it to the top of her panties.

“Can I take these off?” Harry pants, yanking the waistband a bit. He slips his fingers inside and gently strokes her pubic bone over her panties, teasing her. Y/N eagerly nods her head, pulling his hair slightly and guiding him lower. He bites his lip and tugs her underwear down her thighs as she helps kick them off. The sight before Harry made his jaw drop, leaving him breathless.

Y/N is incredibly wet, her fluids are dripping down her thighs, no hair blocking the way for him. Harry inhales sharply, running his finger through her folds and collecting her juice. Raising his hand to her face, he shows her. Feeling incredibly timid all of a sudden, she blushes and squeezes her legs shut.

“Hush now. You're perfect, so beautiful and bare for me.” Harry insists and peppers her knees with kisses. She parts her legs a bit wider for Harry. “Good girl, Y/N.”

Licking his lips, Harry traces his thumbs up her inner thighs and kisses her exposed clit. A spark flows through her body as Harry closes his eyes, getting lost in the exquisite taste of her arousal. The feeling is completely new to Y/N, she's not sure how to respond or what to do. At the same time, everything he does feels so good. Harry licks over her folds, running his tongue from the bottom to the tip. Her hands turn into fists, tugging at his brown hair as she draws a sharp breath.

A little too shy to make any noises as Harry teases Y/N's clit with the tip of his tongue. Her legs start to shake and she quickly covers her mouth with her hand as she lets out a needy moan. Harry grasps her wrist, pulling it away from her mouth.

“Don't be afraid. I want to hear you.” The thought of Y/N covering her mouth or muffling her sounds and keeping quiet bothers him a bit. Y/N lets out a little gasp and nods quickly. Without breaking eye contact, Harry presses his flattened tongue against her clit and licks until Y/N's vision starts to swim.

“Harry.” Y/N moans as Harry flattens his tongue, licking up her slit while he inserts a finger.

“Keep telling me how you feel. It's incredibly sexy.”

“Feels... Incredible.” She manages to get out before she squeezes her eyes shut. Harry responds by wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking gently. Inserting a second finger, he curls them against her G-spot while he twirls and flicks his tongue quickly.

“Y-yes.” Y/N cries out when Harry discovers her sweetest spot. Harry smirks and presses his fingers deeper while he continues using his mouth.

Keeping up with the swift motions of his tongue, his nose rubbing her clit a bit, Y/N's toes begin to curl and her heels dig into his mattress. Harry can't help but let out a low growl as the girl in front of him moans at a high pitch.

“H-Harry.” She whimpers between quick pants. Her stomach suddenly tightens as a ball of warmth spreads, soon making her go weak in the legs. Flicking his eyes up to watch her orgasm, he lets the heat spiral through her. His thrusts slow down as her insides pulsate, and he gets dizzy, feeling pretty smug. It feels like an explosion between her legs, so Y/N can't stop herself from grinding on his face to prolong her pleasure.

“See how gorgeous you are when you come for me?” Harry breathes after she catches her breath, gazing deep into her eyes and rubbing soft circles on her clit with his middle and pointerfinger.

His eyes were soft, but dark with lust, the expression in them shifting slightly as she stared at him. She could see his hardened nipples and defining tent of his boxers. Still on cloud nine, her cheeks feel hot and her body is radiating immense pleasure.

She wants to initiate the next move but she simply doesn't know where to start. Instead, Harry decides for her. Getting rid of his last piece of clothing, Y/N watches closely as he reveals his completely naked self. He kicks off his boxers and climbs back on the bed, hovering over her.

“What do you want to do next?” He asks in between kisses. Biting her lip in nervousness, she places her hands on his chest and kisses him.

“I don't know. Do you want me to return the favour?” She suggests with a sheepish smile, but Harry shakes his head.

“I want you to feel good. No favours you need to return unless you really want to.” He returns her offer with a gentle smile. She feels herself blush as his words run through her.

“Do you think...” She pauses and Harry swallows hard at the sound of her timid voice. “Do you want to try it?”

For a moment Harry is confused before her words begin to sink in. She wasn't very specific but there was no need for that. With his heart about to jump out of his throat, he understands right away and nods.

His eyes catch hers, and they smile in relief, happy to enjoy each other. Her mind runs wild as he kneels up for a moment to retrieve a condom from his nightstand. When he does so, her eyes run down his abs and back to his dark gaze. He tears the foil and puts the condom on his erection, the sight of him doing it making her want him even more.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He wonders, adjusting her on the bed so they're both comfortable. Swallowing hard, she nods, wanting this to happen. He asks her over and over to make sure she's sure of what she wants. She admits she's a bit nervous to do this for the first time, but she's 100% positive she wants to go through with this.

“Tell me to stop and I will, I promise.” Positioning himself, Y/N feels his breath on her lips as she gives him an enthusiastic nod. Smiling down at her, Harry pushes into her tight hole, going at a very slow and gentle speed so he doesn't hurt her. She was nervous, but his touch and actions helped keep her calm. He pushes his hips forward slightly, making Y/N whimper. Reaching up to caress his cheek with a sigh, the intimate contact giving him the strength to push into her as carefully as possible.

Being incredibly gentle with her, he hovers over her, eyes looking deeply into hers and soft sounds coming from his mouth, staying like that for a long time. Burying himself deep within her, Harry is completely still for a moment. The feeling of fullness and the sudden pressure is the best she's ever had. Finally able to fully relax, Y/N presses her lips against Harry's.

“You can move.” She breathes, to his great joy. The feeling of the heat of her pussy enveloping his erection sent a shiver down his spine. Gradually sliding out slowly, she feels her body moving in rhythm. Inch by inch, he eases himself back into her with a low hiss.

Harry clenches the sheets beneath them as he slowly builds his pace to a smooth rocking, groaning with her when his cock hits the end of her, causing little electric sparks up her spine. Harry sits up and grabs hold of her hips, her arms flying up to cover her chest in the process.

“Jesus, your pussy's so tight, feels so good.” Harry comments in a strained voice as he holds her hips tighter and guides her to rock into his thrusts. Y/N moves her arms back down, her hands trying to find something to grip as her walls clench tightly, making Harry thrust a bit harder. Squeezing the sheets, Y/N moans again.

“H-Harry. Oh! Please, faster.” Picking up the speed, Harry begins to shake as he pumps his hips harder. She rolls her head back, mouth wide open as the sweet build of an orgasm starts to rise in the pit of her stomach.

Grasping her hips tighter, he's practically spilling out all kinds of wonderful things as she cries out again and again. The lust takes over, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through her body.

His hand reaches down to rub her clit. Biting on her lip, her walls convulse and her breathing becomes heavy. They both stop breathing altogether when she arches her back sharply, getting in on their rhythm, pounding harder into her core. The warmth keeps building, coursing through her veins and through every cell.

“Oh, Harry. I'm gonna...”

“I know, baby.” He interjects as she writhes beneath him. Hitting that sacred spot inside her with each thrust, she doesn't think she'll be able to hold it in much longer. She wraps her legs around his waist, creating a deeper angle. It's absolutely amazing. She never wants it to end. Her toes curl and her eyelids flutter, taking it all in.

“I can't... Harry.” She exclaims breathlessly, and then screams out, repeating his name.

“You can, Y/N. Look at me. Let go and come for me.” Hearing his raspy voice and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, combined with the sound of his encouraging words drives her even more crazy, almost at the edge. She knows she'll fall down into a complete state of bliss any minute now. Grinding her hips harder, holding on for dear life and digging her nails into his back. She's squeezing him with her walls, everything seemed to melt together into an incredible cocktail of pleasure as she shouts out his name and comes on his cock. He keeps fucking her, keeping her orgasm going even after it came to an end.

When she regains the control over her body, she lowers her legs from around his body.

“Oh, Harry, that was amazing.” A lazy smile spreads across his face and their eyes lock, the both of them panting from her height.

“Do you want to try another position?” He inquires, leaving Y/N with a curious yet excited look on her face. Y/N nods with a faint “Yeah.” and the corners of his mouth tilt upward. With that, he pulls out, an unexplainable sense of emptiness filling Y/N, and she watches as he pushes her onto her stomach, taking a hold of her legs. Harry nuzzles his face into her neck, whispering sweet praises in her ear as he eases her into their next position.

Leaning up on her hands, he raises her onto her knees and steadies her position. He lines his cock up with her entrance from behind. Harry rubs the tip between her folds, he easily glides into her. Kissing her shoulders and down her spine, he doesn't hold back this time and she didn't mind because his wilder thrusts felt unbelievable, not to mention the sounds he kept making. Pounding his hips up against her ass with determination, his curses get louder and his moans turn into the most beautiful sounds she's ever heard. He's close. Y/N knows it.

“Y/N.” He manages in between hot pants and deep groans.

“Yes?” She asks.

“Where do you want me to...” She only had to think about it for half a second and nearly moaned at the mere thought.

“Keep going.” A fierce thud echoes through the room, matching Harry's skin slapping against hers as he rubs her clit once again and gives his final thrusts. Harry tightens his grip and Y/N can feel every muscle in his body get tense as he fills the condom. He's still for a moment, the throbbing of his cock noticeable inside of her.

Leaning up over her, he wraps his arms around her waist and her chin, tilting her head up towards him for a breathtaking kiss. Their tongues slow dance as Harry pulls out, carefully sitting the girl on the bed.

Harry leaves the room to his ensuite to toss the condom and clean up. He brings a damp washcloth and wipes her down, cleaning up the clear mess between her legs. Getting to her chest, he is gently and thoroughly meticulous. Doing everything as painstakingly slow as possible, Y/N closes her eyes in serenity.

While being touched so delicately, she lets out a small sigh and places her hand on his. Bringing her knuckles up to his soft lips, a faint smile plays upon his gorgeous lips. The intensity and lust in Harry's eyes are nowhere to be found, only adoration lingers now. He dresses himself in a clean pair of boxers and turns around to speak up.

“You're staying right?” He questions, slightly chewing his lip as Y/N makes direct eye contact, the thought of staying and sleeping beside him becoming increasingly tempting.

“I'd love to.” She responds hazily, the sleep already starting to take over her body. Harry chuckles at her clear exhaustion.

“I'll get you a shirt and a pair of boxers then. If you want.” He stutters in a nervous way, his confidence fading into a shy demeanor all over again.

“That would be great, thank you.” Sitting up on the bed, she watches as he opens the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, pulling out an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of plain black boxers. Harry hands the garments to her and heads out of the room.

She throws his Rolling Stones shirt over her frame and glances down, making a mental note to take this shirt home tomorrow. After slipping on the boxers, she lets out a heavy sigh, crawling into the bed and plumping the pillows behind her back, getting ready to put in her best effort to stay awake until Harry returned.

Entering the room with two mugs in his hands and a cautious expression, he can't help but smile at the sight of her body so carefully protected by his bedding. The overwhelming joy floods his body as he sits down next to her, gently handing her a mug, full of tea. A sincere smile spreads across her face as she accepts the mug, sipping the warm liquid and pulling the bedsheets up higher.

“Thank you. Do you usually bring tea after sex?” She jokes, Harry letting out a light-hearted giggle and grinning before replying.

“I just thought it could help you relax, or calm you down.” The honesty in his voice catching her off guard for a moment as she quickly recovers.

“Relax or calm me down?” Raising his eyebrows, he nods slowly.

“I know how intense and strong the emotions that are inside of you can get. I wanted you to have a tea that would help soothe your mind know you.” He explains, placing his hand on top of hers, rubbing circles as she nods. Placing the hot tea down on the nightstand, she turns back to him with wide eyes.

“That means a lot, thank you.” She whispers, pressing her lips to his ever so gently. The cup of tea feels like a confirmation that she made the right choice to give herself to Harry. He cares for her, makes her feel cherished and comfortable. That's a great thing in Y/N's opinion.

Snuggling up closer to Harry, they sip their hot tea. Harry asks her if she's feeling alright, to which Y/N answers that she feels fantastic, and Harry can't help but think back to the few hours ago when they danced around eachother, making his heart ache. He kisses the top of her head and caresses her face as he stares into her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He voices, cupping her face in his large hands.

“About how I wanna do all of that again with you.” She blurts out innocently, making the man laugh for the umpteenth time tonight and making her wish he would keep laughing forever.

“You're not the only one.” He says, setting his empty mug of tea next to hers. All of that tension, all of the stolen glances and awkward moments leading up to what happened tonight felt completely worth it. They both got some stress out and finally found the right times. Being held by the best person in the world, Y/N finds it easy to shut her mind down. Everything is good and she believes their friendship has grown into something far deeper. Maybe she finally found love, she thought before she surrendered to her heavy eyelids and drifted off, pressed against Harry's warm skin.

Sighing with relief and pure admiration, Harry lets his mind wander as he looks down at the most stunning girl he's ever laid eyes upon. He closes his eyes, pulling the blankets higher so her delicate form won't get cold in the middle of the night and lets himself indulge in the feeling of her soft skin brushing his. Not being able to believe what just happened between them, his body relaxes more than it had in months, maybe even years. Admiring her features and carefully placing a chaste kiss on her temple before he too drifts off to sleep.

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sonarspace · 3 months

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jjk men and valentine’s day

a/n: eeekkk went a little crazy on nanami and sukuna's parts. hopefully i'm not too late, happy v-day! celebrating it with fictional men for now :3. content: gojo x reader. geto x reader. nanami x reader. sukuna x reader. (fluff!) not proofread… wc: 1.1k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

gojo

he wakes you up with kisses all over your face. excited to celebrate another valentine's day with you. "happy valentine's day pretty girl," he giggles in your ear. he takes you out to shopping to find an outfit for your evening together. he sits outside of the fitting room as you try on outfits and ask him his opinions which is useless cause he swears you look good in everything you've tried on and ends up buying all of them. during your evening together he takes you on a helicopter tour of tokyo, your first time seeing the city like this. "this is beautiful satoru," you smile at him sitting next to you in the pilot's seat. "i think so, too" he smiles at you. "thank you for spoiling me," you joke with him.

geto

he gets flowers and chocolates delivered to your place. sends you a "happy v-day baby. see you soon" text. you spend the entire day together. in the morning he takes you to a flower exhibition. a floating garden with an array of flowers hanging. it was all so beautiful. you were elated. for dinner he takes you to your favorite sushi place. you talk about nothing and everything. however your valentine's day isn't complete without a stuffed animal. even when you were just friends, suguru would show up with a stuffed animal and flowers on valentine's day to cheer you up. and when you both started dating, the suffed animal on valentine's day became a tradition. the arcade is closing as you both reach and you ask them to let you play a quick game but they deny you entry. suguru drops your hand and walks over to talk to the manager privately and slips in some money in his pocket to keep it up and running for another hour. just the two of you in the arcade it reminded you of your high school days. you end up losing at the game where you have to knock out the cans with ball. desperate to win the stuffed panda. you pout at suguru as the manager comes to you and tells you that time is up. "one more game and we're out" suguru promises. he uses one of his curses to help him win and scores you a stuffed panda. you add it to your stuffed animals collection, all given to you by suguru over the course of your relationshiop.

nanami

he doesn't think today is any different to any other day of the week. "just another way for people to make money," he told you before. it's your first valentine's day with him. you're not really expecting anything from him today but you personally loved lovers' day, so you decide to decorate your apartment with different shades of pink and red. heart shaped knick knacks strewn around. he walks out of your bedroom dressed for work. "good morning," his voice is gruff. "too much?" you ask him when you see him look around with an amused smile. "no, i like it. it's cute." he smiles softly at you. "my place tonight." he tells you as he kisses you goodbye. you're surprised when you walk into his apartment. the floors covered in rose petals creating a path to the balcony. he's standing by a candle lit table with a boquet of flowers in his hand. he chuckles quietly when he sees the look of surprise on your face, "happy lover's day," he says as he hands you the boquet. you go on your tip toes to peck his lips "did you do all this by yourself?" you smile at him. "eh yeah i know how much you love today, so i thought i'd surpise you" his says shyly looking away from you. you pull his face back to face you and kiss him fully "thank you". his cheeks hurt from trying to control his smile but a blush takes over his face. he didn't mind that you had that effect on him. after dinner he slides a box across the table "but i didn't get you anything," you pout as you look between the box and him. "it's okay. you don't have to. just open the box." you unwrap the box and find a key sitting in it. you look up at him confused, "will you move in with me?" he speaks softly. your mouth falls open at his question and your eyes fill with tears of joy. you nod feveriously getting out of your chair and moving over to him quickly. "yes yes" you mumble into the kiss, manuvering yourself in his lap.

sukuna

"what the hell is valentine's day?" he asks you his hand running through your hair.. "a day to celebrate love. and lovers." you chirp from your place on his chest. this would be his first time celebrating valentine's day (well frankly his first time being in a relationship too). he hums. "so you're my valentine?" your heart squeezes at the way he asks that question. "do you want me to be?" you retort giggling. "yeah," he blushes slightly. "okay, then lover boy. you're my valentine too," you tease. he wants to do this right he thinks so decides to surprise you. much to his dismay, things don't go as planned. you walk into the kitchen and smell something burning. "ah fuck" you see sukuna standing near the oven. a tray of burnt cupcakes in one hand. another hand on his forehead in disappointment and two hands on his hips as usual. "suki?" he yelps when he hears your voice. "you shouldn't be here" he huffs. "what's wrong? let me help." you approach him. he puts the tray of cupcakes down. and you notice piping bags filled with red and pink frosting. "this isn't how it was supposed to go. i remember you mentioned how much you loved chocolate cupcakes so i was going to surprise you but now they're burned. so much for doing things the right way, huh" he pouts as he rambles. "it's okay. they dont look too bad," you try cheer him up. he tilts his head at as to say 'we both know these are not edible'. "we can fix this suki, look" you cut off the burnt part of the cupcake and mash them into small circles. you grab some sticks from the drawers and place the circles on the sticks. "cake pops!" you wiggle it in front of his face with a satisfied smile. he pushes your hand down and pulls you in close to kiss you. his tongue slipping in your mouth as his four hands pulls you in tight. "can't believe you made me fall in love," he whispers into the kiss.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

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kimbap-r0ll · 5 months

Note

Hi!

Could I please request Ace, Deuce, Jack and Epel reacting to the reader wearing a cheering them on during a match/club event?

Hi, thank you for the ask! This is a really cute idea haha

Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel x reader who is cheering for them in a match/club event

Ace

Before the game, he probably kept telling you "oh it doesn't matter if you don't go, I'll be sad but you'll ultimately be the one missing out" but he was honestly really, really hoping you would go and see him. Besides, who doesn't love a guy playing basketball?

If there was a Twst version of High School Musical this might be it haha. The way you basically cheered him on the loudest when it seemed like he had lost focus at a pivotal moment of the game and everything low-key seemed like it was from a music video

He would be super pumped you got to see him, hell seeing you made him kinda flustered. Like, he feels extra-ready to play? You'll often see him giving you a smile or a wink while he runs across the court and he catches your eye.

After the game, he will pretend like he didn't have any struggles, sort of like "yeah yeah I'm just that good." He has a bit of an ego haha, but either way he will make sure you know he was super happy you got to see him during the match. Sure he might be a little sweaty and a bit out of breath, but he'll still hug you and might lift you up a little bit

Overall, his ego will have a boost and he will be super happy. Will he talk about how cool he was in the game to everyone? Yes. Will he talk about the game with you for the next few days? Yes.

Deuce

He does Track and Field! Which honestly covers a lot of different activities, but he likes doing it with others. Because of this, you might catch him in the relay race events. He happened to be participating in the game that was coming up and (in a slightly stammered way) asked if you wanted to go watch him. Of course, you agreed and he was super grateful

To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement. He was already a little antsy with the competition but he was like "omg they're going to watch me I can't fail" and people might notice he's more jittery than usual because of this

The track is super big, so he doesn't know if he'll see you. However, you bet he would glance towards the audience before his event. If he manages to catch you in the audience, expect him to give you a small smile, maybe a little wave too. He'll remind himself that you're there to see him when it's finally time for him to run too

I think after the event he'll be super tired so he might not be as energetic when you get to meet up with him. However, he'll be blushing, slightly out of breath as he drinks from his water bottle, and will give you a soft hug. "T-thanks for coming today," he might say. If he won, he'll be super elated but if he didn't then just let him know you're still proud of him ;-;

Overall he's grateful you got to be there and cheer him. He wants to just relax with you afterwards, which means you two might be having a cozy movie night together at Ramshackle

Jack

He too is a track and field guy! I imagine he would also be a runner, and while he wants you to see him he's also nervous you might not really enjoy the event or you might be busy. He'll bring it up quietly, just like a "it would be nice, I have a track event coming up." Just know he'll be super grateful if you do agree to go

He's super serious during the event, you might think he forgot you were there because he doesn't at all look at the audience when it's his turn on the track. But his hearing's good, if you happen to be cheering for him really loudly he'll hear. He might not react, but he'll have a small smile on his face

I feel like this might be one of the first times you see him racing, and omg he's so fast. Like, you knew he would be but like this? He might've been faster this round because he doesn't want to lose but also because he wants to, well, impress you a bit haha. Sure he's a humble guy, but sometimes he likes to boast ;)

After the event he definitely hugs you and lifts you up in his arms. He might be a little worn out from the event but he tells you "nope I'm feeling the best I can because I get to see you." Honestly just your presence is enough for him, whether or not he won in the event.

I think after the event you two might take a slower hang out, maybe you guys cook together or watch a movie. Either way, he'll just spend some time with you relaxing and if you happen to pamper him during this time he'll be flustered with all of the affection

Epel

Epel's in Spelldrive! One of the biggest sports in the school, and one that you've had first-hand account in haha. You've probably watched Epel practice from time to time, but when one of the big school games come up, he'll ask if you'll go. He'll be a little shy about it, but once you tell him you're going he'll be super energetic (expect a very strong high five haha)

During the game, he might go close to the audience just to say hi to you haha. He was one of the strongest players for Pomefiore, and many of his classmates were cheering him on with you. Who knows, maybe you led a whole cheer with them haha

I think he would be super serious when playing but from time to time he'll look around to see you. He might've waved at you once as well! He'll do some extra tricks on his broom if he can just to impress you a little more

Whether or not Pomefiore did well, let him know you thought he did his best and that it was a lot of fun. He probably just liked being able to play and he'll let you know he's super grateful you got to watch him. Taking a bottle of water, he might tell you "thanks for coming today, I'm starving though so did you want to grab dinner together?"

Overall, he was super pumped to see you and definitely played a little harder than usual with you in the audience. You two will likely have a really good dinner together and if you want to, you guys might go on a magical wheel ride as well.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #anon ask #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst ace #twst ace x reader #twst deuce #twst deuce x reader #twst jack #twst jack x reader #twst epel #twst epel x reader

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willalove75 · 10 months

Note

Being Rebecca's partner /gf ( younger like Keeley ) and some of the boys flirt with reader. Both remain professional and hide their relationship but there's just something about a possessive strict rebbeca ...

Loveeee thisss!! Thank you so much for the request!💕💕

Warnings: Smuttt (idk how to write a possessive Rebecca without it tbh LOL)

18+ only Minors DNI

Tension was at an all-time high. Sitting next to Rebecca, you can feel the stress radiating off of her. All you want to do is wrap your arms around her, kiss her on the head and whisper words of comfort into her ear. When she glances over at you, you know that's all she wants too. But the two of you were in public and you haven't told a soul about your relationship yet, both of you agreed to keep it under wraps for the time being. Plus the season was almost over, neither of you felt the need to make the end of the season more chaotic than it was already about to be.

What was not helping the tension, or Rebecca's stress, was the fact that you were at an away game at West Ham. The team Rupert recently purchased.

Laying in your arms last night, Rebecca told you how nervous she was to go to the game, that she was anxious about seeing her piece of shit ex-husband again. Running your fingers through her soft blond hair, you reassured her that everything was going to be fine, and that you would be by her side, no matter what.

"Howdy boss, y/n!" Ted pulls both you and Rebecca out of your spiraling thoughts.

"Hello Ted." Rebecca says.

"Hey!"

"How 'bout the two of ya'll come in for the team mixer, West Ham and the boys are all getting acquainted with one another before the big showdown."

Exchanging glances, Rebecca reluctantly stands up and you follow the two of them inside.

It was noisy and pretty crowded, also unusual for the two teams to be getting together like this before a match, but you decided to not think much of it and followed Ted and Rebecca to the bar. Just before you reach your destination, someone pulls Rebecca away to introduce her to some people. She shoots an apologetic look your way and you softly smile back at her, letting her know it's fine.

Walking up to the bar, you notice a couple of West Ham players make their way up to you. You do your best to not pay them any mind, but they make it impossible when they try and talk to you.

"This game was going to be a breeze, but knowing there's gonna be such a gorgeous woman in the stands, I think I'm gonna have a hard time focusing." One of the players says, flashing you a million dollar smile.

"If you get distracted that easily, you're gonna have more problems than the match." You retort.

"Pretty and quick, that's a rare combination."

"It's only rare when you give off the energy of an entitled football player."

The boys around him erupt in a chorus of "ohhhh shitt!" and you laugh, making the football player talking to you laugh as well.

Rebecca hears the commotion and looks over, immediately spotting you in the middle of a group of footballers. Her eyes are locked on you, there's a bubbling of, something, in her chest that feels foreign to her. Anger? Stress? Jealousy? That last one resonated more than she expected, what she jeal-

"Earth to boss, come in boss!" Ted says, pulling her back to reality.

"My apologies Ted, what was that again?"

Surrounded by the boys, you had no idea that Rebecca spotted the interaction. The player talking to you leans in a little more.

"May I buy you a drink gorgeous?"

"You're literally about to go play football, you're gonna drink?"

"Of course not, I have morals!" He says with a laugh and you shoot him a look, eliciting another laugh from the group. "I will be drinking water, what will you have?"

"I'm flattered, but no thank you."

"Please," he says, taking your hand into his. "I insist." He lightly kisses your knuckles and you stand there in shock for a second, never expecting him to be that bold.

Hearing laughter erupt, Rebecca looks over towards you again and see's the footballer lean in. Her eyes narrow when she see's him take your hand and place a kiss on it. Never in her life has Rebecca's body tensed up so much, seeing someone else's lips on your skin set something off in her that she's never felt before. Looking at your face, she knows immediately that you're uncomfortable. Even though she was in the middle of a conversation, before her brain can catch up with her legs, she's walking over towards you.

Walking straight through the group of guys, she stands next to you, an intense glare in her eyes directed at the player that was flirting with you.

"Don't you have a match to warm up for?" She says, her tone is cold and icy. It's taking every ounce of self control she has to not wrap her arm around your hip and pull you into a deep kiss, claiming you as hers.

With fear in his eyes, the guy mutters "oh right, yeah we gotta go." and walks away, the rest of the players following close behind him.

You let out a sigh of relief and turn towards Rebecca, you're surprised to see the intense look that's lingering in her eyes.

"Thank you- are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath and tried to ground herself.

"Yes, are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just the usual footballers acting like dogs. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I promise." She says, leaning into your ear. "Although it took ever ounce of self control I had to not show all of them that you're mine." She says with a low voice.

Your heart skips a beat and you feel your cheeks blush a bit.

"Well, that certainly would have been interesting, wouldn't it?" You joke.

"You have no idea."

"Rebecca Welton, I didn't know you were the jealous type."

"Neither did I, I suppose it's only when someone tries to take what's mine."

"Fuck." You whisper, your eyes meet hers. Her pupils are dilated just enough to know how sincere, and turned on, she is.

"I'm walking away now before I do something stupid." She says with a mischievous look in her eyes. She gives you a wink and walks back towards the group she was talking to before.

The players slowly leave and prepare for the match, leaving the room much emptier than before, although there's still a lot of people left. Walking around with a drink in your hand, you wander aimlessly, eventually landing by one of the windows and looking out onto the pitch.

Rebecca spots you from across the room and can't help but smile as she watches you gaze out the window. Her attention is pulled back into the conversation she was in and she turns back to the group.

You're not sure how much time had passed, since you ended up spacing out looking outside, but you're sure the match is going to start soon. Just as you're about to walk away you feel a hand wrap gently around your arm. Turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with no one other than Rupert Mannion, Rebecca's ex-husband. For a second you freeze, you can't stand this man. You're convinced that he's dedicated at least 75% of his life to trying to ruin Rebecca's - for whatever sick reason. Trying to keep your scowl at bay, you try and smile at him, hiding your distain.

"You must be from Richmond, there's no way someone so beautiful could be working at West Ham and get by me." He says, laying the charm on thick.

"Yes, I am from Richmond." You say, ignoring the last half of what he said.

"My name is Rupert Mannion, please, take a seat." He gestures to the two chairs near the window.

"Oh, that's okay-"

"I insist." He has a look in his eye that's telling you he isn't asking.

To avoid any more confrontation, you sit, trying to see if you spot Rebecca anywhere.

"I'm sorry, what was your name again?" He asks.

"Y/n."

"Oh yes, I've heard of you. You're one of the newer additions to the fine staff over at Richmond."

"Uh, yeah."

"So, y/n, tell me, what is it that you do?"

You begin to describe your job and what you do on a daily basis. The more you speak, the further Rupert leans in. If you didn't know any better, you would be smitten by his charm. He may be a bastard, but he's certainly a charming one.

"What a coincidence, we recently lost someone in a similar position here. You wouldn't be interested in it, would you? I can guarantee you a much higher salary here than you would be making over at Richmond."

"Uh, I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I really like it over there."

Rupert lets out an obnoxiously fake laugh.

"Oh you're a funny one. Well at least think about it, for me." He says, practically batting his eyelashes.

"Uh-" The words suddenly disappear from your lips when he puts his hand on your knee, slowly sliding it up to the middle of your thigh. You freeze, not having any idea of what to do. Well, you want to scream at him to get off of you and run into Rebecca's arms, but that's not an option for a plethora of reasons.

"I would love to have someone as gorgeous as you in my office every day, y/n." He says, leaning in.

As if she has a sixth sense for trouble, Rebecca turns back to look at you and see's you with Rupert. Her jaw clenches when she see's him talking to you. Shifting her eyes down, she see's his hand on your thigh, coupled with the look on your face, she feels like every cell in her body is bursting with anger.

Walking away from the group, Rebecca makes it over to you in an instant. You're pulled from your frozen state when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you up.

"Get your hands off of her." Rebecca snaps at Rupert.

"Rebecca, dear, how are you?" He says, glaring at her.

"Keep your hands off of my staff Rupert." She growls, pulling you behind her.

"Ah, always the protective one, must be that maternal instinct kicking in, isn't it?"

Rebecca's hand tightens around your wrist, that one had to have hurt, even if it was a little. She glares at him with an anger you've never seen before and Rupert puts his hands out in front of him, signaling he means no harm.

"Alright, alright, I was only getting acquainted with your new staff member, no need to get angry dear."

Rupert stands up and begins to walk away.

"It was so lovely meeting you, y/n."

Rupert walks out to the stands and Rebecca pulls you out of the room. Down the hall, she opens a random door and finds a supply closet, pulling you in, she closes the door and pins you up against it.

With her hot breath against your skin, your knees almost give out underneath you. Her pupils are completely blown as she stares down at you, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Rebecca-"

"Sh," she says, putting a finger over your lips. "those stupid football players I can deal with, but him, that fucking asshole, absolutely not."

"I didn't-"

"I know, trust me I know that was all him, but even still. You are mine."

Before you can even agree to her statement her lips are on yours, her tongue pushing it's way into your mouth. She kisses you rough and passionately, as if she'd die if she ever stopped. Her hands pull at the fabric on your body, pressing you into her as hard as possible.

"How I would love you take you bent over his desk right now." She pants as she kisses you hard. "But this will have to do."

Her hands travel to the waistline of your pants and she unbuttons them and pulls them down to your ankles along with your underwear.

Seeing her like this, so possessive, so protective, so hot for you, she didn't even need to touch you for the wetness between your legs to threaten to leak down your thighs.

Slender fingers find their way between your folds and you moan into her mouth as they circle your clit. Once you're stimulated even further and Rebecca's fingers are coated in your arousal, she slides two fingers into you effortlessly until she's knuckle deep. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite down on your lip to suppress the moan.

Rebecca begins to pump her fingers in and out of you, you know this is going to be fast and rough and the thought is only making your center drip even more.

"You are mine. All mine." She says as she fucks you. "Mine to do whatever I please with, mine to fuck wherever and whenever I want to."

Your nails begin to dig into her skin as she rushes you towards the edge, you won't last long, not with how she's fucking you and talking to you. She knows what gets you going and today she's pulling out every trick in her book.

"Say it, tell me you're all mine." She growls in your ear.

"I'm- fuck- I'm all yours, only yours, yours to do whatever you- ah! want with."

She picks up the pace and presses the base of her hand against your clit, grinding into it with every thrust of her wrist.

"You're such a good girl, letting me take you wherever I want. Watching those boys flirt with you, god I wanted to take you right then and there."

"Yeah?" You whine.

"Yeah, bend you over that bar and fuck you senseless."

"Oh fuck, Rebecca, I'm gonna-"

"Good girl, that's it, cum for me, I want you to cum all over my fingers."

She thrusts harder and curls into you, driving you right to the edge. You bite down on the collar of her blazer to keep your moans from ringing out into the building. Grinding down on her you clench and she shoves you over the edge into bliss.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your vision goes white. Your legs tremble underneath you, gripping onto Rebecca for dear life. She pulls the orgasm out of you for as long as possible before finally pulling her fingers out.

You fall into her arms, your body almost completely limp. She catches you and holds you tight, licking her fingers clean. Resting your head against her chest, you lay there for a minute as you catch your breath and come back down to Earth. Rebecca runs her fingers through your hair and kisses you on the top of your head.

"You were so good for me, thank you my love." She whispers into your hair, pressing another kiss into it.

Standing up straight, she holds onto your waist until she's sure you're steady on your feet. She pulls your underwear and pants back up, buttoning and zippering them again. Cupping your face, she brings her lips to yours and kisses you. This kiss is nothing like the last one, this one is soft, tender, filled with love. You kiss her back and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her close into you.

When your lips part she fixes the collar on your shirt and you fix her blazer and wipe away the smeared lipstick from her lip.

"I should get you jealous more often, holy shit Rebecca." You say with a giggle.

"Don't play with fire my love, you'll get burnt." She says, placing one last kiss on your lips.

The match started by the time you got back to your seats, you got a few questioning looks from Higgins and Keeley but you both ignored them and sat down and watched the game.

Richmond ended up losing, pretty badly at that. Even though the match was lost, both you and Rebecca left the match satisfied in a much different way.

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton x reader #rebecca welton #ted lasso #rebecca welton fanfic #wlw fanfic #ted lasso fic

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swayziiwriter · 10 months

Text

Petty | Jude Bellingham

summary: when your best friend Jude decides to avert his attention to a desperate blonde you decide to turn the tables on him with none other then Jadon Sancho.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

Amongst the blaring music in the club you can still hear his voice. I'm Jude, you're not bad yourself, I could use another drink. The obnoxious blonde who had found her way to Jude now had her hands on him, tracing the collar of his black dress shirt. The worst part about it was that he was letting her.

He didn't even taken a second glance at you, pathetic you thought to yourself. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebrations, Englands EURO qualifications games were spectacular. Though, you wanted nothing more than to go home. Jude was your best friend, your best friend who you we're undeniably in love with. So coming here tonight was supposed to be your chance of telling him how you felt, but instead you were watching from afar as Jude got felt up by some bimbo.

You were infuriated beyond extent, your emotions mixed with the alcohol that was coursing through your body was dangerous. All your feelings were heightened, including your sexual drive. You wanted to forget about this constant pain in your heart every time Jude turned up to end up spending the night with some girl. Tired of all the countless nights fixated on how to finally express your emotions you decided that it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. Jude wasn't clueless about your feelings, a few drunken kisses made sure he knew. But still he never brought it up, instead he avoided it like the plague and you were tired of it.

"Stare any harder and you'll burn a hole in the back of his head" a voice quipped. "That's sort of the point" you seethed, not feeling in much of a positive mood anymore. You recognized the voice immediately, it belonged to Jadon Sancho teammate and friend of Jude. You were across from the bar the huge dance floor in front view. Hundreds of sweaty, drunk and horny people rubbing up against each other hoping to get laid. "Why'd you let him ruin your mood?" He questioned with a smirk. "You can be an asshole sometimes you know that" you replied taking down another shot, the burning sensation in your throat causing you to forget about Jude for just a second.

"Dance with me y/n" Jadon proposed, "oh Jadon I don't thi-" he cut you off with a small chuckle."This isn't for me y/n, this is too show Jude just what he's missing" he continued. Your brain was telling you to say no, yelling at you to take the high road and just ignore Jude for the night. But you couldn't.

Smiling at his genius antics hand in hand you two made your way down to the dance floor. "The hills" starting to echo through the large building as your warm bodies were flushed up against each other, your back to his front. Jude was watching, he had been watching from the second Jadon left his teammate's side to be with you.

Watching as you lightly grinded your body into Jadon's, Jude was livid. Watching as his hands rose up your body had him squirming, a deep feeling in his gut enough for him to want to throw up all the alcohol he had consumed earlier in the night. Dancing with Jadon was funner than expected, he would occasionally whisper subtle "he's looking, ah there he goes squirming again" leaving you to let out genuine laughs, laughs that Jude could hear all to well over the blaring music.

The blonde who had been around Jude for longer than his own liking was soon kicked to the curb as he soon realized you had been doing the same mechanism as him. Making the other one Jealous. Jude let Jadon bring his hands from behind as far as your stomach before he marched towards the dance floor, drink in one hand and nothing in the other. He had left this go on for to long, he couldn't stand the feeling of another man touching you, feeling your soft skin, your perfect lips.

"Oh shit, he's coming over here" Jadon yelled over the music, leaning into your body. "Y/n" Jude yelled over the music, "what Jude" you spat back, still pissed that he had let that blonde touch him. Jadon returned glances between both of you before making the decision to get out of there, sending you an apologetic look as he left you to fend alone against Jude. Jude continued to look at you with wide eyes, expecting an answer. "Can't you take a hint Bellingham I was in the middle of danc-" "dancing?" He interrupted. "You were all over him y/n, fucking hell are you trying to kill me?" He yelled. "Me!?" You replied, "you're the one who's had a bimbo on your ass all night. Sue me for wanting to have some actual fun" you spat.

The air was becoming thick, the tension and smell of sex in the air was becoming suffocating. Your mind felt as if it was running a thousand miles an hour. "If you're not man enough to tell me that you want me, then there's no reason why I shouldn't go fuck around with someone like Jadon" you continued to hurl insults at him before he finally snapped. Crashing his lips against yours in a heated passion.

Your hands were roaming over his chest as his lips worked in sync with yours. Jude gives you a firm but still tender kiss the tension between you and him was killing you both. He's hard about it and tells you he's wanted you for so long, but his touch is still gentle. He is letting you know that he has also always liked you.

The music at the club doesn't bother you. You basically let his tongue investigate your own, and let your bodies press together among all the intensity, strain, and horniness.

Finally, when you both leave the room to get some fresh air, the following events that come after are neglected. In the midst of the sexual tension, horniness, and outright neediness, it is forgotten. The backseat of the taxi you are both in is a blur of hasty movements, hasty kisses, and long groaning awaiting to arrive. When you get to Jude's condo his movements are fast, your back hits his bed the midst of a heavy make out. Clothes, his tie, shoes, and your heels were all left on the floor in the trail of your exasperated needs.

He was hovering over you, taking in every inch of your body as it curved into his, his hard cock hitting your thighs as your body shuddered with pleasure. Jude brought his hand down to your core, teasing your folds as he spoke dirty words into your ear. He slipped two fingers into your dripping pussy, collecting your wetness in between his fingers.

Your hands gripped at the sheets as he worked on your pussy, fingering you fast to your release. His voice was thick with lust as he felt you clench around him and wrap your legs around his waist as he continued to press his fingers inside of you. "you look so pretty for me baby."

Your back arched from the bed as you watched his beautiful face, and it took all of your inner strength not to cum. "Gonna cum all over my fingers?" He questioned, "be a good girl and cum all over my fingers" you body shook with pleasure white noise talking over as the euphoric feeling took over your body.

You were moaning his name in an attempt to stop the overstimulation on your core. "Wanna feel you" you managed to gasp out between breathes. He pushed your body up the bed, spreading your legs just enough to settle himself in between them, "about to be so ruined for me" he tapped his cock against your wet folds, the action alone making you cry out in frustration. "I'm not going to stop until your dripping with my cum" he said pushing into your tight pussy. Because you didn't anticipate that movement, you let out a small cry of surprise mixed with a moan of pleasure.

To fully appreciate how his cock got inside of you and how your walls tightened around it, you had to close your eyes for a while. He moved inside of you briefly, using only one hand; He placed your leg and the other on his shoulder by lifting your leg; He gave your clit a rub. You had the impression that his thrusts were reaching deeper within you because of the angle your leg was at.

Jude stopped stroking your clit to wrap one of his hands around your neck. You were certain that your moans had already turned into tiny screams while he was deep within you. You arched your back with pleasure. Before you took that forearm and squeezed it, Jude gently stroked the skin on your neck. He probably accepted that as a sign since he applied a touch of tension.

You tried to complain, but all you got was a sound that sounded like you were gasping as his pace picked up. You tried to yell, or at least try to, because your lips were being caressed by his thumb as he continued to press on them. When you were already almost there, your pussy voluntarily tightened around his cock. You were in an orgasmic state when Jude let out a deep growl.

Your pussy continued to pulse around his cock as he followed you a few seconds later. Before rolling next to you, he took your hand out of the ring around his neck. Your lungs were asking for air, your mind was a finished wreck, and your vision obscured until you could slow down and rest. You could feel beads of Judes cum rolling down your sweaty thighs.

You and Jude had given into your needs and it never felt better. You wanted to feel him every where, all the time. He wanted it too, the way his eyes never left yours was evidence of it, the way his body connected with yours was beautiful. You and Jude were in sync, complete with each other.

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factorialsotherfandoms · 7 months

Text

They're back at that one bit of woodland again, with the strangely cut trees and the avocado sapling and an unusual number of birds. Fit hates it here, he hates what it does to his friend. He sees the distant look in Philza's eyes, the way his movements become softer, slower, almost floating. He sees the warpstone, and takes it, and knows it means that sometimes Philza comes here alone.

He sees the way Philza puts his parachute away too high, and does not bucket clutch when he lands. Hears the crunch of his ankles, too.

It's not the first time Fit's seen it either, though its novel in /Phil/. In the wasteland, in the many wars... Yeah, he's seen this before. People who can't face what they've done - what the world did to them - so their minds fade into a dream until reality crashes in with a knife through their spine. Nobody wastes an end crystal on someone who got lost in a dream, at least not the quiet ones.

(To kill those lost in a nightmare you want a bow, anyway - even if you dress in their colours, they might still consider you a monster in their dreams. Fit's almost glad Philza's brain cracked quietly - its safer, less likely to draw the Federation's ire, but it also means the pain goes unnoticed. He wonders, just how many islanders' suffering has been missed?)

The doubt in reality even when present Fit has seen less of, but it's not unheard of. In the wasteland people tend towards killing and being killed, but sometimes someone gets a grand idea into their heads.

Well, no, a lot of people do. Even if Fit only considers grand torture he can think of a good number of people, they're just not often met with success.

He has seen it, though, between one incursion and the next. There had been this one asshole up in the north eastern quadrant who took a delight in fucking with people's heads. One of the Veterans - Fit can't remember his name, why can't he remember even his allies-of-occasion's names? - had been caught. The guy managed to break himself out in a few days, but even that had been enough to have him clarifying reality for months.

Philza...

Well Philza was gone for at least twice as long, and, old crow that he might be, he doesn't have nearly the training against mind games and /human/ bullshit a Wastelander has.

He's still quick with the scythe whenever monsters appear, so at least the Feds haven't stolen that from him too.

"The birds are here, right?" Philza eventually asks.

"Yup," Fit pops the word a little, wanting to go home but not wanting to leave a trauma-fucked friend at ground zero too long. "Still here, still the wrong biome. The avocado sapling is still here, too. There was something here, they just took it down."

Philza squints at that sapling, and hums under his breath. Fit doesn't expect to be believed. It's just, despite everything, he has his own fucking eyes. This place is clearly fucked up, the Federation builds in an instant so why not destroy, and not /once/ has Philza asked him if something is real and the answer was no. His perception wasn't fucked with, just his faith in it.

Which is, in some ways, harder to deal with.

Fit would wonder why he's dealing with this, but he knows everything Philza has done for him and how, when its down to the wire, they're about the only friends either of them can really rely on. Seasons change, alliances are betrayed, lovers fight, and in the middle of it all is always black wings and Philza.

If after all these years all the man needs is an occasional reality check then, gods damn him, Fit won't even charge him for it.

He's nice like that.

"Alright," Philza eventually says. "Let's go home."

They warp back to his home - an empty home, but a home - and Philza hesitates at the hatch.

"Look," Fit says. "If you want to go out there again, or you see something you're not sure about? Just ask me. If I'm not about, take a photo and ask me later."

"Thanks mate," Philza says, with a smile reading 'I'll never do that, but the offer's appreciated'. "Sleep well."

"You too," Fit calls back, and really, he did expect that to be the end of that.

---

It is not, of course, the end of that. There's a few more times in the coming days when they're together, and Philza asks his opinion on the reality of a bird - almost always a bird, sometimes a shrub, and Fit is lining up what triggers he can to try convince his friend to avoid.

He knows Phil, and he knows people, and he knows that most people would rather claw their own eyes out than ask for help. Philza included. Himself included, to be fair to the man.

It's what makes what happens next more horrifying, and more of a surprise.

He is out with Pac and Mike when it happens. Mike is still acting a little odd, but so far he has attacked nobody, threatened nobody, and made no creepy comments about the eggs - Fit will take what he is given and call it a success. Mike is even acting a little more normal, herding Pac and Fit onto a picnic rug and serving them drinks.

Pac laughs and smiles, and Fit slips poison test strips into every single glass he is handed but laughs along with him.

So far, no poison - Fit knows better than to think doing nothing will have fixed the brainwashing (possession?), but maybe the level of control varies. It seems reasonable, then, to expect a chill day for the morning crew; Tubbo is offline, Philza is tens if not thousands of blocks out exploring, and Fit has a date with his two favourite scientists.

... A social engagement with one of his favourite scientists, chaperoned by the other.

Fit sits and listens as Pac explains some additions he and Mike wish to make to the Murder Mystery Arena, occasionally offering his admittedly uncreative takes. Fit knows what he's good for, and it isn't interior design. He just... did not quite expect his thoughts to be so bad that they managed to trigger a laughing fit in the still somewhat out of it Mike.

If only he could also help Mike like he tries to help Pac and Philza, but whatever happened to him, his green-eyed scientist no longer trusts him enough for that.

It's a shock, then, when Mike speaks over Pac, scowling at his communicator. "I don't think this message is for me," he says.

"What message?" Pac asks, already moving to look.

Fit leaves him to it - probably Aypierre asking about some newfangled machine, or Cellbit wanting some answers - before realising Philza is the only person both awake and not at the picnic. That has him standing, grabbing his own communicator, even as Pac is already reading it.

"It just says 'can you come over here a second'?" Pac frowns. "From Philza. Do you think he's okay?"

"He probably just hit the wrong name and didn't realise," Fit tries to keep his voice easier than he feels. Even while he's speaking, he types out a quick 'sharestone?'.

Almost immediately he gets a reply 'thanks mate' and then 'red, named parrot'.

Fit's brain clicks in as to exactly what that might be.

"Yeah he meant me. Mind if I just go check in with him? I'll be right back."

Mike shuffles a little closer to Pac, who in turn waves him away. Their sharestone today is blue, not red, but he takes it to Spawn, and then heads out again.

Sure enough, there's a new red sharestone connected to the network. It's named 'prart', however, and Fit really has to wonder just how badly Philza must be doing to let that happen.

---

Arriving across the link, Fit finds Philza sat on the grass next to the sharestone, knees curled up and hands shaking. It is the middle of the day, but he still quickly checks around for threats. Swamp, no crocodiles, sharestone and Philza tucked close to a tree. The only other living beings he can see are birds - hummingbirds, parrots, and a grey one pecking at Philza's trousers.

Given Philza is in a swamp, Fit has a good idea as to what he might be doing.

"Oi Philza," Fit calls, tossing himself onto the grass beside his friend. "You were missing me?"

"Hit me," Philza replies, still curled in the ball. "You're real, right? Then hit me."

Fit knows the queries about birds well enough by now, but the query about his own presence makes dread settle in his stomach.

"Alright," is what he actually says, before backhanding his friend across the arm.

At the contact Philza's breath stutters for a moment, before his fingers reach out and trace where he was touched. It's a slow movement, one alongside which he mouths words without sound, before the fingers dart out and grab Fit's hand. He clings, tight, for a long moment, and then lets go with an exhale.

"Thanks mate," Philza's voice shakes, far too quiet for comfort. "... You can see the birds too, right?"

"Yeah," Fit frowns - for all he doubts reality, Philza has /never/ said he's seen a bird that Fit couldn't also see. "Let me see. Five or six blue parrots over there, three hummingbirds, another parrot in darker blue, pair of red ones, I think there's a green one in that tree over there... Four chickens, and then there's a grey bird by your ankle."

At the mention of the grey bird, a shaky hand reaches out, and Philza begins to pet its head. Fit knows of some people back in the wasteland who take animals to help with the trauma, but he can't help but think a bird is, right now, a terrible choice for his friend.

"So you are real," Philza speaks so gently to the parrot, though. "Here you go, come on up."

Fit watches quietly as Philza uncurls, sprinkling a handful of seed on his lap to tempt the bird up. Sure enough, it goes.

"What do you see in this photo?" Philza then asks, handing something to Fit.

It's a photo of a tree. It's not a tree that Fit can see nearby, but it is one for sure. A single black bird sits in it, watching.

"I thought crows had been banished from the island," Fit frowns. "Wild ones, anyway."

"Okay, okay," Philza runs one hand through his hair, and another over his bird's head. "I'm only going a bit crazy then."

"They're fucking with you," Fit frowns. "Else I'm somehow reliably hallucinating the same as you."

Philza shakes his head - Fit wonders just what happened in that birdhouse, that his friend's brain would rather deconstruct reality than face that it could have happened, and just what purpose it serves the Federation to try.

"This bird... You remember the parrots by the museum?"

"The ones that vanished?"

"When I got back to the bunker, he was in a cage right next to the trap door." Philza's eyes are wide, a little wild.

"Well shit." Fit frowns at it. "Same bird?"

Philza gently lifts one of the bird's wings, showing Fit a very distinctive pattern on it. Same bird, else the Federation did something extremely fucky.

"I have to cage him to bring him places. Dumbass doesn't understand ladders, let alone warps. I don't like caging him. But keeping him in the house is just another, bigger cage. I can't do that to him, Fit, I /can't/." Philza's fingers twitch as he says it. "But I can't let him go either. What if the Feds take him again? What if they hurt him? They hurt our children, why wouldn't they hurt him?"

"He sure seems happy enough to me." Fit doesn't actually know much about birds, but its eating out of Philza's lap and has never made any attempt to get away. "Likes you well enough, too."

"But its a /cage/, Fit," Philza emphasises the word. "I know he's only little, but the cage is small too."

It's not about the bird. There is no way in hell that this is about the bird. There is no universe, here or anywhere else, where this is actually about putting a bird in a cage for five minutes while Philza teleports.

Fit just isn't sure if Philza actually knows it isn't about the cage, though, and with him teetering on a full breakdown, decides its better not to ask.

Instead, he offers an arm. Philza collapses against his side.

"They were just fucking with you," Fit tries to reassure him. "Everything you're asked about has been real, your reality is fine, I'm here, you're here, we're both real. So are the birds. The eggs? Real. Missing, but real, and we will get them back."

"I wish they wouldn't despawn my withers so I could blow the fuckers up."

Fit gives a laugh, noting how Philza's own wings fluff up a little at the words.

"Same," he says. "I want to see it."

"Do you know how many I tried to spawn?" he asks. "And they just erased them from existence."

"Yeah, we noticed," Fit agrees. "Assholes."

Philza is still shaking a little, but laughs as he falls against Fit's side. He's managing to talk normal enough, but Fit's been around both him and the mentally fucked long enough to recognise the way his fingers cling and eye flitter. It's not the usual paranoia, he's looking at all the wrong things to check for danger - not the swamp, but the birds, Fit's hand, the sharestone...

Fit's communicator pings. Looking down he finds a message from Pac, 'how much longer will you be?'

'Not long. Can I bring Philza?' he replies. Then, a moment later, adds, 'Feds are fucking with him.'

There's a longer pause than Fit expects before he receives 'yes.' and then 'is he okay?'

"Hey Phil," Fit says, rather than immediately reply. "I was having a picnic with Pac and Mike. Do you want to join us?"

"I shouldn't-" Philza looks up.

Fit raises an eyebrow.

"Fine," Philza sighs. "I need to get rid of some toast anyway."

"That's the spirit!"

It really isn't; Fit tilts his communicator away from Philza as he types back. 'Not really. I'm worried.'

Pac doesn't reply again, or at least not immediately; Fit shoves his communicator back in his pocket, before untangling himself from Philza and hoisting himself up. "We have a blue sharestone set up; meet you at spawn?"

Philza doesn't reply as he collects his own sharestone and returns it to his inventory. He does, however, raise his portable warpstone as he traps his bird in a cage.

Fit waits to make sure Philza is actually leaving before raising his own as well. Spawn is far from beyond the Federation's influence, but its a hell of a lot safer than a random swamp... Fuck, 300,000 blocks out. Someone's always passing spawn, the Federation can't mess with it easily.

"Here," Fit points out the right sharestone as he arrives. "Mike hasn't even poisoned any tea yet! Or threatened to murder anyone today."

Philza's laugh is a little nervous, but he follows through anyway. Fit checks the map to make sure he got there, and follows.

He isn't surprised to get there and find the bird already free, sitting on Philza's shoulder, but how quickly he let it out...

It isn't about that bird and that cage at all.

"Fit!" both halves of Tazercraft at least are excited to have him back.

"I have wine!" Pac seems very excited about that, despite the concerned glance he throws at both Mike and Philza.

Fit does his best to give a reassuring one back - impossible given Philza's very quiet 'hi mate' before silently curling up under a tree. "Great! Sorry about the disruption, the swamp had crocodiles."

"Multiple?" Pac pulls a face - Fit would be Philza is convinced that Pac believes it, but Fit knows the tells. "Eesh."

"Bad luck," Mike passes Philza an entire bottle of wine before Fit can even think about subtly stopping him.

Philza does pour some into a glass before downing it. Right now, Fit will take what he can get. And if that is just he's going to need to play up his separation anxiety to keep Philza close and safe... He just hopes Pac and Mike understand, because he's not sure Philza will survive to see his kids again otherwise.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp fitmc #hurt/comfort #dissociation #angst #its a bit heavy on the dissociation but from an outsider perspective #also vague references to Fit's memory problems #a cage for a cage #or rather its aftermath #pac and mike are also here because I love them #oh god this got too long save me

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billthedrake · 8 months

Text

This one I started a few months ago but didn’t get too far yet. It started off as a spinoff of Dads I’d Like to Fuck and took on a life of its own.

THE SPORTS ILLUSTRATED JINX

Doing that cover was how I met my partner, my first one at least.

The Sports Illustrated issue had just dropped. A big cover photo of me, looking serious and posting with my bat, and the words "Miracle Worker" in big letters over my image. I was winding down my rookie season in the majors at the age of 21 and had exceeded high expectations. Life was good.

"Don't pay any attention to that jinx business," a man said as I was out a high-end steakhouse after a game, enjoying a drink in the bar area. "It's all bullshit."

The man was my type to a T. Late 40s, sturdy build, some gray in his medium-length hair, masculine dad-next-door looks. I am often guarded in public, but I gave him a big smile.

"Yeah?" I asked. "I sure hope so."

This man had an easy way about him. Confident, but not overly so. "It's definitely BS," he added. "Look at Trout. Didn't hurt his career one bit." His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he talked, and I had to wonder if I was reading too much interest in them. Sexual interest. "But you don't need me to tell ya that, man."

I shrugged. "Well given how many people have brought up that fucking jinx," I said, "it's nice to hear a different point of view." I extended my hand. "Luke... nice to meet you." I mean, the guy clearly knew who I was, but I wanted to know who he was.

"Dan Ogle," he said, as he clasped my hand with an equally strong grip. In baseball you judge a man by his handshake. Dan was used to being judged. "It's an honor to meet you."

"You in the business?" I ventured.

"It shows?" he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm a scout. Was with the Orioles organization and now work independent."

"Smart move," I quipped. "The Orioles seem a mess lately."

"Ouch," he laughed harder. "That's tough, man." He gave my shoulder a friendly, gladhanding pat for a second. "Listen... I'm here to meet an agent buddy of mine..."

Something about his eye contact made me wonder if I could make a move. "Let me give you my number, Dan," I said.

The way his eyes lit up said I'd made the right call. Maybe he was just star struck. But I'd work that in my favor if it meant seeing more of that sun-weathered face and those sea-blue eyes. He pulled out his phone, and I told him my number.

****

The first drinks I grabbed with the guy was basically a date. We didn't call it that. But we made the usual small talk. Dan knew a lot more about me than I did about him. So I had him tell me his bio. He'd played in the majors a few years and got into the coaching side in some single-A team. Was frustrated by the lack of opportunities there so went into scouting. Was married once, no kids, divorced at 38.

I talked more about what it was like to be a star. Even if Dan Ogle was never a magazine-cover caliber player, he understood me. The benefits of being idolized and famous, and the drawbacks. I didn't talk about the latter with a lot of guys, but I felt I could with this pro-ball veteran.

Our eye contact got heavier as we talked. Like we knew what we were dancing around without coming out and saying it. Finally, I asked, "So, Dan... you able to be discreet?"

Without missing a beat he nodded. "Oh yeah. Absolutely." Those sea blue eyes staring back at me, with clear expectation.

"It's been a couple of months since I've gotten laid," I said, laying my cards on the table.

He let out a playful whistle. "Way too long, Luke."

"What about you?" I asked, finally nudging his knee under the bar. This was gonna happen, and I knew, and I was throwing hard in anticipation.

"About the same," he smirked.

"We should go fix that," I hissed.

"Now?" It wasn't a question of surprise. More, Dan was trying to read what was on my mind.

"If you're up for it... yeah, now." I knew my voice was getting that horny edge to it.

We settled up our check and I went over to Dan's hotel room. I wondered if we were going to have more conversation, maybe figure out what each other was into sexually. I was strictly top or into getting serviced. I normally got my way, but sometimes older guys think it should be the other way around.

But we didn't talk. Instead we met for a kiss as we rapidly stripped off our clothes. I'd barely unbuttoned my jeans when Dan crouched down in front of me, pawing my crotch and reaching in to pull out my cock.

"Damn, that's a big dick," he gasped. And then revealing he did not find that a problem in the least, the middle-aged ex-jock leaned forward and started sucking me.

"Holy shit!" I laughed. I wasn't 100% surprised Dan Ogle sucked cock. After all, I'd met up with older guys who liked to fool around. But I was surprised he was so into it, so good at it. He sucked me fast and hard, like it was his last cock ever. I didn't think that the almost rough sucking would feel good, but it was incredible. Those long fast mouth strokes and that heavy suction were gonna get me to nut, too soon.

"Ease up, man!" I gasped. "I'm almost cumming."

The veteran ex-jock spit out my prick and sucked in some air, as he swallowed that excess spit. "Yeah?" he teased, now hand stroking my bat. "What would be wrong with that?" The man was horny, and I loved how thrilled he seemed to be about sex. No hang ups whatsoever. That was a first for me, actually.

"Come on, man," I almost complained. "Let me at least feel up your body for a bit, you know... enjoy this some."

That took Ogle by surprise. I think he thought I'd just want to shut my eyes and use his mouth or something. Maybe that's what dudes like me had done before with him. Leaning back, he showed off his bare chest. "Didn't think you'd be into all this, man," he smiled.

"You have no fucking idea," I growled. I could unload my daddy issues on Dan later and tell him how I was wired for men over 40, but for now, I just wanted that physical contact with that more mature muscle. "Let's get on the bed," I urged.

I stripped off the rest of the way and ate up the way Dan's eyes feasted on my nakedness and my erect state. Maybe it was the ego boost he needed to strip down all the way and almost pose for me as he got on the bed. His body wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn nice. Strong muscle, just the right amount of hair, amazing legs. Dan had been a catcher back when he played.

His body felt hot to the touch when we embraced. He was a good kisser and seemed to get into the sensual, slow approach. I matched his speed, even as I was horny as fuck and leaking against his furry belly. We made out and rolled around some, and I ended up on top of him. Heart pounding against his chest and his strong grip feeling up my lat muscle.

When I pulled back from our lip lock the 40-something scout had need in his eye. "You wanna be in me, Luke?" he asked softly.

"Hell yes," I growled.

He smiled. "I got some lube in my bag in the bathroom, if you wanna get it. Rubbers if you want, too."

I hoisted my athletic body out of bed and went to get the stuff, my dick sticking straight out like a divining rod. The stuff was easy to find. Indeed next to the small lube bottle there were two foil packets. I loved that a man like Dan came prepared.

I didn't take a condom, though, and I could read Ogle's silent excitement as he saw me empty handed other than the lube. I flipped the cap and squirted the slickness onto my fingers as I got up on the bed. Any other time, I'd enjoy more foreplay and rim him out some. I loved eating ass, and an ex-catcher daddy would be one hell of a feast. But I needed to fuck.

He hissed at the first finger but the second went in like butter. Dan Ogle wasn't a slut bottom, but this wasn't his first rodeo. As I lined up my cock, I was excited to be topping such a hot guy. It was still sinking in that I was a lucky bastard.

"That's good," Dan said softly as I pushed in. His sea blues were looking up, and he was nodding slightly as I pushed on. I knew why. He was tight as fuck and he knew I wouldn't be able to read if he was good to go. Thankfully, he was.

"You have an amazing ass," I grunted as I bottomed out. He was hot and snug and his insides felt alive around my cock.

Dan was horned up, and his dick twitched on his furry belly. He had some love handles but otherwise was total DILF. "I can't believe you're here fucking me," he almost laughed.

I held my body steady for him, his legs on my shoulders. "You ever fantasize about me?"

"Didn't dream to," he admitted.

"But a player like me, right?" I nudged him mentally. "You always wanted to get nailed by a guy like me." That second part was now statement, not a question.

"Jesus," Dan growled, a deep belly growl. "Fuck yes."

"You got it, man," I said and just started fucking. Not hard, but it was a deep steady fuck and I was hung enough for him to feel it.

He stroked as I railed him then let go when he was getting too close.

"Go ahead," I urged. "I'm pretty close, too."

I watched him stroke and I watched his hand work up his pleasure in tandem with the internal stimulation I was giving him. Then I watched the 40-something ex-catcher spew his pearly white seed all over that gorgeous daddy fur.

"FUCK!" I grunted and felt my own cum rising up, all of a sudden. Two months was a long time between lays. I held his legs tightly and humped his ass with a couple of final fast strokes.

I was flush red and breathing fast as I came down. Dan laughed at me some, and I laughed with him. "I needed that, buddy," I said, giving his meaty chest a playful dual fist bump before I leaned back and slowly pulled out.

I had to watch the slight creampie in his hole before it shut back up. A conquest trophy.

"I could tell," Dan grinned as he lowered his legs and shook out the stiffness. "I don't normally like it missionary, but that was hot as fuck."

I grinned, plopping down on the bed. "It was."

Dan gave me one last look, like he still couldn't believe his luck and still couldn't believe this happened. I got that look a lot, and I always ate it up. "Gonna shower off," he announced.

He was back to normal when he got back. A little quiet, maybe moody. I didn't know his deal, but I wasn't gonna find out. I took a piss and got dressed.

"Take care, man," I said as I got ready to leave. He was on his phone, checking on texts or something.

He looked up. "Yeah. Have a good one."

I got the message. One time thing. OK by me. I was a player, a hunter, always onto the next lay. One time things were my MO.

Only the next morning I awoke to a text. Dan Ogle's text, sent fifteen minutes earlier. "I got an 11AM plane to catch. But maybe I can interest you in a morning BJ before I go?"

I texted him a thumbs up and my hotel and room number.

****

It's not as easy having groupie sex when you're into guys as when you're straight. But it happens for me far more than you'd imagine. I just have to be cautious with my approach, feel a guy out. The thing is, if a guy has a remote bi-curious streak, it's almost a sure thing that a star athlete will be able to exploit it. The star struck thing goes a long fucking way, and guys felt excited to be close to me. Even if only for an hour or a night, they were getting one-on-one Luke Fulton time.

My first groupie was when I was still in the minors. But I was clearly a top prospect in the farm system and come Spring Training I had a chance to practice and play with the big league guys.

I was gathering up my stuff after an afternoon game versus the Tigers when I saw him. A few of the guys would meet with fans after, but this man seemed to be waiting for me. He was very much a typical corporate looking dude. Medium height, golf shirt, golf tan, khaki shorts, ball cap, expensive watch, dad sneakers. Meaty dadbod build filling it all out and looking pretty good for a man in his 50s.

"Hi Luke," he said, polite but also forward. "Can I get your autograph?"

That was my first request for one, actually. I smiled. "Yeah?" I said, registering my surprise. "Um, sure."

I walked up and set down my bag. He handed me a pad and a pen. "You're gonna be the biggest star," he said, referencing the pro team name whose roster I was vying for. His gaze was on me, like he was trying to memorize the whole encounter for later. That was my first taste of groupies, the way they might not even be showing sexual interest but they clearly are into me and being around me.

"I'm not 21 yet," I reminded him.

"Well, I've been watching your progress. Ever since the draft." OK, Corporate Dude was one of THOSE fans.

"Who should I make this out to?" I asked, maintaining equally heavy eye contact. Corporate Daddy was good looking in a normal way, and that turned me on, too. He reminded me of the men in my hometown. I even flashed a wink, nothing too over the top, but doing as much flirting as I dared.

"Jim," he said. "God..." he continued as he watched me write my dedication and sign my name. "This is really cool."

I looked up and flashed my grin. "Isn't this what you come to Spring Training for?" I asked. "To meet the players?" Maybe I was starting to lay it on thick.

Jim was gung ho, though. "It's my second year here, but yeah... the chance to talk to you guys is incredible."

His eye contact was heavy and his wedding band made me think he wasn't the blabbing type. I still consider a band the best insurance when hitting on a guy. I took another paper out of that pad and wrote my number on it.

The man seemed embarrassed. "What's that for?" He asked.

Goddamnit. I guess I misjudged. "Never mind," I said, maybe a little curtly. After all, it wasn't any guy I gave my number. I started to grab the paper back.

He blushed, getting it, really getting. "Oh. That's cool, that's man. I'll keep it. If that's OK."

I nodded. "Just keep it private, OK?" I meant my number but also the fact that I'd given it to him.

"Oh yeah," he said.

I gave him one more wink and picked up my bag to walk back to the locker room.

It was an hour later when I got a text. "Hey. It's Jim. Thanks for giving me your number."

"Thanks for using it," I typed back. I was hanging out with some of the guys from the team, about to get some dinner.

I didn't hear back for a few minutes, then I got another text. "I don't normally do this kind of thing."

"It's cool man. I don't bite. No strings no expectations." I didn't have my mojo down, but I knew with a guy like this corporate dad you had to reassure him.

"What are you looking for?" I could almost sense his nervousness on his end.

"That's something better talked about in person," I wrote.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. Then "I'm around all week."

"Tonight?" I wrote. "9?"

"Yes."

He gave me his hotel info, which worked better. I was in a good mood when I showed up and gave a soft knock.

Jim had a nervous, naughty look as he ushered me in. "Hey..." he said as he shut the door behind me. "I shouldn't be doing this."

I got it. I'd met married men with misgivings before, but none as strong as this man's.

I paused and looked at him, giving him my best friendly expression. Giving him an out. "It's up to you, man. I'm not gonna pressure you."

He thought for a second. It was like I knew what he was thinking. Wondering if he'd ever get another chance at this. "I wanna," he replied.

"Cool," I said and stepped up to him. I'm used to seeing athletes and coaches all day, so sometimes a normal build like Jim's pales in comparison. But now that I was there, up close, he looked pretty damn fine. My hand touched his chest through his golf shirt and moved down to feel up his sides. I drew him closer to me, being forward now to claim a kiss off him.

He grunted as our lips met. I slipped my tongue forward and felt his excitement grow as his lips part and accepted it. We made out for a minute, which is the surest way to get my motor running. I was rock hard now, for sure.

I pulled back and examined his handsome face. "I guess I should have asked if you kissed," I said.

He exhaled a breath he'd been holding. "Yeah... that was my first kiss with a man, actually."

I cocked a grin. "Whaddya think?"

"'s pretty wild," he answered honestly. "But good."

My fingers now caressed his side, and I could sense he was getting majorly hard, too. "You done anything with a guy?" I needed to know where I stood.

He shook his head. "Back in college. You know some fooling around with fraternity brothers. A couple of blow jobs, that kind of thing."

I cocked my eyebrow. "You ever give one?"

Jim blushed some, making his reddish tan redder. "Yeah... it was years ago."

I pulled him closer to me, so he could feel my hardon against his own. "I'd very much enjoy getting one, man... if you're up for it." He was warming up to the idea, I could tell, but I wanted to head off any hesitation. "It's just us here. No one's gonna know."

"I don't know if I'm any good," he objected.

I moved my hand up and patted his shoulder. "Trust me, I'll love it." I didn't throw in a "pretty, please," but I was being as gradual and coaxing as I knew how to be. "Come on, why don't you sit on the bed?"

He nodded and stepped back from me. He was rock hard in his khaki shorts, which was a good sign. And as he settled on his hotel bed, his look was one of excitement more than nervousness.

I didn't want to spook him, but I was getting crazy horny. Jim was pushing my buttons big time. I stepped up till I stood about a foot in front of him. Then slowly, I undid my shorts and pulled out my boner.

Some guys comment on my size when they first see my endowment, but Jim just silently watched, eyes going wide.

"It's OK, bud," I assured him. "Just take what you feel comfortable with." I scooted closer so my hardon was an inch or so away from him. His licks were tentative, then less so. I could sense the novelty for him, and the thrill that came with that. I knew this was the last thing he expected to be doing on this trip.

"You've done this before, man," I urged. "You got this."

He nodded and then opened his lips to take me in. He bobbed up and down on a few inches. Jim wasn't lying. He wasn't any good at this. But I loved the feeling of his warm mouth and the wet tongue against my steel-hard dick. And I loved the rush of seeing this regular married daddy servicing me. I let him do his thing for a minute then spoke again.

"Feels nice," I encouraged him. Then, "Just suck me like you enjoy being sucked, man."

That seemed to make something click for him, and he adjusted his blowjob. Jim wasn't gonna be a pro cocksucker any time soon, but THIS was a lot better. He flenched when my hand touched his hair, but when he realized I was just gonna stroke his head in encouragement he relaxed back into it.

"Take your time, bud," I hissed, spreading my stance a little. "Takes me a good couple of minutes to work up a head of steam. But this feels awesome."

It did, and the physical sensations were starting to build up. But I also imagined this guy sucking dudes back home, showing off what he'd learned on me. That was the trigger that got me off.

"You better swallow, man," I growled. Mr. Easygoing was gone. I didn't want him pulling off. Maybe my fingers curled around the back of his head to keep him from retreating.

He grunted. Agreement, I guess. But he kept sucking as I spurted into his craw. I heard a choked sound, but it wasn't an actual choking. Mostly a grunt of excitement as he tasted, then swallowed, as fast I was pumping more sperm into his mouth and throat.

"Damn, that was nice," I hissed as I let go of his head and finally stepped back out of his sucking mouth.

"Did I do OK?" he asked, voice thick with my cum still. Something about that question was adorable and exciting both.

I smiled. "Fuck yea you did." I nodded down to his hard crotch. "You need to get off?"

He unzipped. Clearly, sucking me had worked him up. He spit into his palm and I watched him start pulling his pud. It wasn't gonna take him long, not from the excited look in his eyes and the fast fist motion. I stepped closer and let my dong sway in front of his face.

That got him going. "You got a great cock," he admitted.

"And you sucked it," I reminded him.

"Yes," he grunted, and like that he was cumming.

"That's it, man," I urged.

Our release complete, I stepped back and tucked back in as he wiped himself with a Kleenex. His mood shifted some.

"We good man?" I asked. He could have all the guilt pangs he wanted, but I didn't want a full-on freak out.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Thanks for that.... I'm gonna remember that for a long while."

"If you wanna make some more memories this week, you know where to reach me."

#drakestories

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thesweetnessofspring · 8 months

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I'm convinced that Snow was the one who came up with the "rule change" in THG (idc what the movie did with it--they didn't know TBOSAS and it was less than convincing they way they did it).

Just think about it. We start off the Games with Katniss's courageous action volunteering for her younger sister. Then Peeta did something radical. He decided to follow through on his declaration of love to Katniss and did everything he could in the arena to save her. Getting sponsors, teaming up with the Careers, getting Katniss to leave and fighting Cato for her. Can you imagine what that was doing in the Capitol? In the Districts? How could you watch someone do that and not hope for a happy ending, even as Peeta lay dying in the mud, whispering Katniss's name?

And then Katniss teams up with Rue and is devastated by her death. She stays with her, sings to her, until she dies. Bolstered by Peeta's words about not being a piece in their games and finally getting what he means, she decorates Rue with flowers. She honors her life and her unnecessary death. District 11 recognizes this and even though they have another tribute alive in the Games, send Katniss the bread.

In Snow's mind, everything about the games is starting to crack. Young love being selfless, sisterly affection defying the Capitol, comradery fostering between districts. He simply can't let it go on. He has to remind people in the Capitol and the Districts that this is not human nature. He is going to prove that. So he tells Seneca Crane to announce the rule change.

He expects Cato and Clove to make it to the final two. In their new advantage, they will become a deadly, mostly healthy team. Meanwhile, Snow can see that Katniss doesn't hold the same care for Peeta that he does for her (she had tried to kill him with tracker jackers, after all). Even if she goes to find him, she'll abandon him once it gets too hard, too dangerous. The hope of love triumphing will be met with annoyance at his injuries and agreeing to stay behind and not get his medicine. And even if she does, he'll still be too injured to truly be useful.

But things go awry. Thresh saves Katniss because of her kindness to a little girl he, too, saw as a younger sister. He kills Clove, bringing about Cato's wrath. And Katniss Everdeen turns out to be a better actress than expected.

No matter, though--once the rule change is revoked, the truth of the stripped-down human nature will come out. Oh, Peeta will throw out the ravings of a teenage boy high on hormones, but people will remember how awful they truly are when Katniss puts an arrow through his heart. After all, Snow's made that decision before. His lover or himself. Death in the woods or life with riches in the Capitol. It's easy, really, to make that decision. And people will remember even the best among them, even she who willingly risked her life to get medicine or volunteer for her sister, won't avoid killing in order to survive herself.

But Katniss calls their bluff, and Peeta goes along with it. They've chosen to protest the Hunger Games with their deaths. Seneca makes the call to announce two winners. Really, Snow was going to kill him either way. Someone has to be publicly accountable for the place he's in now, and Snow certainly isn't going to take credit for his idea. After this, he tries and tries to get Peeta and Katniss to have to kill each other. The Quarter Quell. The hijacking. But it never works. And not just because of them, but because a whole nation finally stands up and says Enough. We won't let this go on anymore. In the end, Snow was entirely wrong because he never truly understood love.

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas #thg headcanons #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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active-mind-15 · 3 months

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I've got some more chronic Akashi brainrot for y'all...

I had re-watched parts of Last Game not too long and I remember the scene after Team Vorpal Swords won when Riko's dad bought a bunch of snacks and drinks for everyone to celebrate. While eating, Midorima asked Akashi (referring to the haphazard way snacks were spread across the table), "Are you sure you're okay with something so sloppy, Akashi?" And Akashi looked at him and said, "What are you talking about? We used to sit around and celebrate like this in middle school all the time."

It really stuck in my head for a reason I kinda mentioned the other day, when I was talking about Akashi's dynamic with Hayama. I won't explain that entire post, but I was mainly discussing how Hayama is touchy with Akashi but Akashi never minds, and the last sentence of my post regarding that was, "Akashi seems to be very unfazed whenever he's manhandled by his Rakuzan teammates which shows that he was never really that uptight about people touching him to begin with and people just assumed he was". This brings me to the main topic of this post: Akashi Seijuro and the assumptions the KNB cast has about his personality.

As I love to point out on this godforsaken app, Akashi has been done dirty by every adult in his life with the exception of his mother. So much of what went wrong in his 3rd year at Teiko was due to high expectations and the idea that Akashi was not allowed to be anything less than perfect at whatever he did, but at the root of all of this are assumptions.

False assumptions that he was able to handle such a heavy workload. False assumptions that he was ready to be captain in his second year. False assumptions that he was coping with stress well. False assumptions that he wasn't already cracking before he even enrolled in Teiko. He was let down so many times by so many people because people assumed he was okay when he wasn't and hadn't been for YEARS.

And I think it's a big reason as to how and why the rest of the Teiko gang unintentionally isolated Akashi back in middle school. They put Akashi on a pedestal and assumed that there was some sort of invisible barrier between him and the rest of the team. In the same way when, during Last Game, Midorima assumed Akashi would stick his nose up at... eating chips and drinking juice with the homies... everyone has this idea that Akashi is more haughty than he actually is? Akashi isn't haughty at all. In fact, the Replace Plus Chapters highlight the fact that he's the complete opposite. This boy saved a baby in one chapter, and as the mother of the baby profusely thanks him, he says "Anyone could have done that." As if he didn't showcase superhuman reaction time and reflexes by pulling a baby out of a runaway stroller coming down a hill at high speed right before the stroller was obliterated by an oncoming truck. 💀

These assumptions make even less sense when Akashi has already shown people how much he doesn't want to be put on a pedestal. Again, back to the scene in Last Game, Midorima assumed Akashi wouldn't be down for the "sloppy" afterparty, but Akashi had to remind Midorima that they'd already done things like that in middle school. Momoi has cute nicknames for every member of the Teiko gang except Akashi, who she refers to simply as "Akashi-kun". Maybe that was her assuming Akashi would never accept being called by a cute nickname. Never mind the fact that he already was being addressed as "Akashicchi" and "Aka-chin" by Kise and Murasakibara, respectively, and then later was being addressed as "Sei-chan" by Mibuchi. And you can't even argue that she didn't want to make Akashi uncomfortable, because Midorima has outwardly expressed before that he didn't wanna be called "Midorin" but Momoi just kept calling him that.

And don't get me wrong, I'm not saying they're shitty friends for doing this. I just think that there was a lack of communication within the Teiko gang, and in an attempt to respect what they assumed were Akashi's boundaries, they unintentionally excluded Akashi from activities that he would absolutely participate in if he had just been given the chance.

This post is long asf so I'll just conclude here, but one of my delusional headcanons for the Teiko gang post-Extra Game is that Akashi becomes more open with them about how he feels and also about wanting to be included in more of their activities, and so he finally gets to experience having a regular hangout with friends like a regular teenager. I just think he deserves that so bad after feeling alone for so many years.

#wee woo wee woo this tumblr user is posting dissertations about akashi again #and i still have a reflection paper to finish before class tomorrow #i hate it here #kuroko no basket #knb analysis #akashi seijuro

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cafeacademia · 2 years

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𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're having a bit of a rubbish day, you feel horrible and you don't know why and when you reach for a soft, warm jumper for comfort, you accidentally give the rest of the team a not so subtle clue to yours and Spencer's odd behaviour as of late...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Secret relationship between Reader and Spencer, some unfriendly comments made by teammates and a local cop (honestly from the team it's nothing too bad, it's all just because the tension is running high), period mentions, frustration, a little bit of tears, fluff.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 1.1k

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hi everyone!! I've been looking forward to writing this one ever since @reidsbookclub sent me the request. It took me a couple of tries to write this the way I saw it in my head, but I'm really happy with it. I hope you enjoy!

Spencer knew that you weren’t having a good day. If the several more cups of coffee than usual wasn’t a hint, then the deep sighs, constant deep frowns and temple massages were enough to tell him that you were struggling to keep focus. And because you were struggling to keep focus, people were getting impatient with you. Morgan double checked a file you read through and picked up on a few things you missed, but proceeded to tell you that you needed to be on top of your game. JJ told you that you needed to be faster when delivering assessments you had done on the unsub, but the reason it had taken you so long was because you were given a task that was so information heavy and you were expected to complete it alone. Normally things like that were given to Spencer, especially because he could finish it all in a quarter of the time you did.

It was only when an officer made a second comment about your efficiency that day that you snapped. “We should just save the documents for the other kid, you are not delivering fast enough.” “Well excuse me for not being able to read as fast as a one of a kind genius. If you want to compare me to him, fine but don’t set me up to fail next to him when you know he’s faster.” You snapped, slamming the papers down onto the table.

By the time you had walked out of the room, the officer knew he had messed up. The tensions were high on this case, but it was no excuse.

“Hey, come on, come with me. I think you need a minute.” Spencer intercepted you in the doorway, having overheard the officer’s comment and your outburst. “I wasn’t wrong.” You were defensive, but Spencer didn’t try to stop you. “I know, I’ll sabotage his stuff later.” He whispered so only you could hear. At least that brought an amused smile to your lips, even if it was small.

Spencer pulled you away with him and into the back room where he had been looking over some evidence from previous cases that were originally thought to be unrelated. “Come here,” He said, sitting down in his seat and opening his arms for you. “Sit in my lap.” You easily obliged, doing what he told you to do and sinking onto his lap, melting into his arms as Spencer pulled you against his chest. “It’s okay, let it out. I know you’re frustrated.” He soothed you, his hand rubbing up and down your back. You weren’t even sure why you were so wound up, but you just couldn’t focus, you were slow and tired and everything ached and-, “I have pads and painkillers in my bag if you need them, sweet girl.” Oh. Oh. How did Spencer pick up on that before you did? Honestly sometimes you got so caught up in feeling awful but trying so hard to push through it that you forget that it might actually be caused by something.

“Spencer, I was so out of line with that guy.” You suddenly wailed, tears pooling in your eyes. “Oh no, no, sweetheart you weren’t, he was out of line with you. He’s just as tense as all of us, but he took it out on you, I promise you didn’t do anything wrong.” Spencer reassured you, hugging you closer. “But everyone keeps looking at me weird and making comments at me today and-.” You were interrupted by your own little sob, letting all of the frustration out. You felt a little silly to be crying over something so insignificant but Spencer was reminding you that it was okay to feel upset about silly things sometimes.

“Everyone’s looking at you weird? What do you mean?” Spencer asked softly, gently cupping your cheeks in the palms of his hands and wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Your lip wobbled as he waited for a response, but it was only when he looked down at you that it suddenly clicked. “Oh.” Spencer whispered. “Oh?” “Is that my jumper?” He asked, eyes fixed on the warm, beige wool jumper that you had put on that morning and worn so proudly to work. You hadn’t been able to resist, Spencer had left it in your hotel room by accident the other day when he had walked you back to your room and you had reached for it that morning in need of some comfort. “Hmm, maybe that’s why the team had been acting weird. They know.” Spencer theorised. You didn’t respond, but your eyes suddenly widened and you let out a groan under your breath, how could you have been so stupid? Of course they would pick up on you wearing Spencer’s jumper, no wonder Emily and JJ had been making strange comments and making hearts with their hands at you all day. God you really were out of it, you hadn’t exactly been subtle about it.

“Ah shit.” You sighed. “I’m so sorry, Spence.” You let your head fall onto his shoulder, half using it as an excuse to hide out of embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” Spencer spoke softly, fingers gently lifting your chin so he could meet your gaze. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months, I feel really good about what we have. Maybe it’s time we tell them.” Spencer proposed. “Besides, it’s really hard to hide how I feel around an entire team of profilers.” “It is difficult.” You agreed. “Maybe it is time we told them.”

“Mm, later. First, I think I need your help with these old cases. I’m going to go and tell Hotch that I’ve asked you for help and I’ll go and accidentally spill my pencil shavings over that guy on the way.” He said, picking up his full pencil sharpener. God, he could be really petty when he wanted to be and you loved it, as long as you weren’t on the receiving end.

“Where do you want me to start, Spence?” You asked quietly as you stood up so he could leave the room. “You can start by getting comfortable, sweetheart. There are things in my bag for you and here,” He paused, standing up and digging about in his blazer pocket for a moment. “Tell Rossi to get you a hot chocolate, he can’t say no to you.” He said, handing you some money. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, my sweet girl. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got you.” Spencer spoke gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@reidsbookclub @russian-potatoes @hallecarey1 @deanhisbaby @alexxavicry @hoshinokurasa

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid blurb

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yuzukult · 9 months

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yours, but not yours 06 || csc & reader

title: yours, but not yours 06 pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader/oc genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut, fake dating!au, bad influence!seungcheol, nice guy syndrome!namjoon, mechanic!seungcheol wc: 6.7k (1k per month i disappeared lol) warnings: profanity, mentions of sex a/n: ... hopefully y'all didn't forget me,, if this chapter is mediocre i am so sorry i'm trying my best here T_T i had to rewrite the chapter a couple times & ended up going with a different route (which may be slightly unexpected) but the series isn't over yet !! this is the calm before the storm ok

There’s nothing worse than being proven wrong.

It’s like when you’re a toddler, your mom tells you to not eat the spicy slice of pork belly, knowing very well that you wouldn’t be able to handle it but you still beg her anyways. Then when you’d finally get a bite, your face contorts into a pained one, desperately wishing that water would be more relieving to the tongue as it is to a house fire. Or like when your high school best friend told you to maybe not get involved with the guy who has quite the reputation, but your constant urge to break the rules practically drowns you, so you go for him anyway. Then, when he left you crying outside on his porch, beseeching him to come back after you clearly saw him cheating on you with that other pretty girl in your Art class with that cool hot pink dyed strip of hair, you’re yet proven wrong again, only to be running to your best friend’s house after you regained your senses.

This is probably another one of those times. And truthfully, maybe you’ve evolved, but there’s this part of you that wishes you’re wrong.

Seungcheol is definitely nothing close to what you’d ever expect to be your type. He’s not the traditional kind of guy—office job, either living alone and saving for a house or lives in a house he owns, has a car, wears business casual clothes on the weekdays, maybe even into different types of beers, occasionally plays a gaming console—instead, he’s a mechanic with a motorcycle and likes to flirt with you whenever he gets the chance. He favors the torn up and stained attire, despite having money (which… you’d only find out not too long ago) but he does love alcohol. Whiskey being on the top of his list; beer is more of an option for social events, he mentions it the one night he stayed late in the garage when you came down with two bottles in hand. “I had leftovers. They were gonna go bad if I left it any longer,” you said as you handed over the Miller Lite. He popped the cap off on the edge of the workstation, swapping it with you after, then opening his own in the same way. “Let’s not put it to waste.”

And here you are, two days after the event, groggily putting laundry into the washer with your head full of—you guessed it!—Choi Seungcheol.

The last encounter was left with you exiting his childhood bedroom with disheveled hair, wet panties, and awkwardly adjusting the fabric of your dress. No phone call to follow up, no text—nothing. Fucking radio silence.

How does someone fucking rail you into the mattress, whisper the dirtiest things in your ear, then claim you as their own and suddenly just go off the grid right after? You didn’t see him for the rest of the night, and when you went back to Rowoon, he didn't interrogate you on your relationship with Seungcheol after he shut him up. The whole thing was eating you up inside to the point that you were fucking wishing that Rowoon would ask, just to have a soundboard for this dilemma.

Was that the finale of it all? Is this the end of You & Seungcheol: The Not-So Love Story? He hasn’t even been back to the garage yet, and it’s got you pondering why he didn’t even bother to send a fucking text. A text! It’s not that hard to send a text.

But maybe this is what that whole “karma” thing people keep talking about—what goes around comes around, right?

You groan. Slamming the door shut, you pull out the dispenser drawer of thr washing machine aggressively. Just like when he pushed you against the wall that night, knee shoving your legs apart as he looked at your lips with furrowed brows. You couldn’t help but grip onto his biceps—he was so thick in that shirt, hugging every curve of his body in waves you didn’t know would leave you breathless from the sight. How is he so hot when he’s angry? He didn’t even have a right to be, you weren’t his (even though he continuously thrusted his hips into yours, heated breath against your neck with the word, “mine,” constantly falling off his tongue effortlessly), but god he was good at convincing you that you were.

You shake your head. Fuck! This is frustrating. Not sexually frustrating, (you’re lying, that’s definitely part of it), but frustrating in the fact that you don’t know where this leaves you. Are you still fighting? Do you make up? What… now? And why the fuck do you keep finding yourself asking the same goddamn fucking question with him?

Nearly overflowing the compartment for the detergent, you quickly grab a wet rag to wipe off the excess that spills as you mutter a couple curses underneath your breath.

He’s got you in a chokehold; how is it that a guy who wasn’t even on your fucking radar suddenly the only one you can think about? Even when you’re vacuuming your living room, you don’t even recall grabbing it from the closet. All you have infiltrated your mind is Choi Seungcheol.

Honestly, you’re a dick.

For one, you’re finally coming to your senses that disregarding Seungcheol’s feelings isn’t fair. He’s been nothing but helpful the entire time you’ve known him; last month, he replaced your windshield wipers when he noticed the rubber was tearing off. He ended up pulling out the weeds from the front of your house after the awkward attempt to water them, and not to mention, he came up to your home when he heard a screech (you’re afraid of cockroaches, and you didn’t admit it even after Seungcheol killed it with a flip flop).

But who really is the dick here? He hasn’t called you, texted you, or anything really. Quite literally have given you the post-nut clarity you needed, only for him to ghost you.

To fucking ghost you! The guy who said he’s head over heels for you, swooning all your friends into believing he’s your boyfriend, and well—also pretending to be your boyfriend, even when he knows what the consequences for it are.

Then again, who cares… right? He’s just some buff mechanic, a fuckboy, and a tenant.

(You almost used the “tenant” excuse to text him, but you hold yourself back and don’t. Only because when the 25th rolls around, you actually have to ask him for rent.)

As you’re making your bed, throwing the sheets up to float down and align with the mattress, your phone rings.

At first, you think it’s your mom, so you let it ring for a little. She has the tendency to never pick up the phone, and although you never have the audacity to ignore her call, you let it ring a couple times out of pure pettiness.

That is, until you realize it’s actually Seungcheol’s name on the lockscreen.

“Hey,” he greets; it’s a mixture of uncertainty and excitement, probably because he knows what he did wrong in terms of leaving you hanging but he misses hearing your voice. “Um, how are you?”

“Not great.”

“Oh? What’s wrong?”

You roll your eyes, despite him not being able to see the action right now, he could feel the burn through the phone. “Actually, don’t answer that. I know, I—”

“What happened?” You snap, pacing in your bedroom. “You fucking told me that you were anything but a fuckboy, and the moment that I let myself be vulnerable, you just leave me hanging? What the fuck was that? Am I just wasting my time with you, Seungcheol?”

It stings.

Of course, everything with you stings. In both a good and a bad way, the words you say always seem to ache, tighten, and sting his chest, all from a variety of emotions you spew out so transparently. You’re so real and raw in the way that if he fully commits to you, that’s it—he’s done. There’s no going back to the lifestyle he had before, no fucking around and dicking around.

And as scary as that is for him, hearing that it’s with you, he’s okay with it.

But he’s now in the position where he doesn’t know how to make that happen. Not after all the current events.

“I got caught up,” he says, unable to even believe himself despite it being completely true. The night of the event, you found yourself scrambling out of his bedroom after sex and his dad called about some emergency with the company—Seungcheol has been in Malaysia since. “I really wanted to call and text—really, I just… didn’t know what to say.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Anything would’ve sufficed. I don’t know where that leaves us now. I’m trying, Seungcheol, I admit I was a jerk for disregarding your feelings and never taking you seriously. But when you pull a stunt like this, it doesn’t really make me believe that you’re not just setting me up.”

He stays silent for a moment; you could almost hear the ringing in your ears from the quietude, and you wonder what’s going through his mind.

“Seungcheol?”

“Yeah,” he says breathily. “Yeah, I—I’m still here.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Can you—Can you take off? Just the Friday. Can I get you on a plane on Thursday night, and you come meet me for the weekend? My treat.”

Choi Seungcheol never really lived an average life.

It all really started when his mom met his dad back in college; this innocent, bowl-cut boy with the thickest glasses of the century, eyesight nearing partial blindness had a crush on the prettiest girl in his economics class. His reputation was practically nonexistent other than for the fact that he looked nerdy, and hers was being… almost every positive adjective in the book. He’d gather the courage to ask her out, expecting a rejection, only for her to turn his way, those chocolate irises sparkling underneath the hallway lights while she said the word that was opposite to his predictions. Yes.

She stuck with him through all of college—even though she had a line of suitors waiting for her, she was always in love with the reputable nerdy boy. Despite what people thought of him, Seungcheol’s dad never failed to make sure she felt loved and supported through the entirety of their relationship. Even when he had these big goals to build a company from the ground up, he kept her as his priority and that never changed.

It’s a love story for the ages, one that his mom reiterated as she tucked Seungcheol into bed during his youth, but he didn’t quite resonate with it because how could someone like his dad be the one to make his mother swoon in that way? The man who sat at the end of the dining table, reading glasses at the tip of his nose even after getting lasik to rid himself of those stocky lenses, physically there but not… present.

Even now, as he’s sitting beside his father at his hotel room’s dining table, he still doesn’t feel him.

But to be fair, can anyone find comfort in a room full of stone tiles, high ceilings, and a chandelier that probably costs more than the average car times eighty?

“Tell your brother that he’s coming tomorrow,” he says, eyes never leaving the screen of his iPad. His father has since graduated from a newspaper to a tablet. “He has a presentation Friday, and he needs to rehearse everything he says. Can’t believe he fucked up the last one.”

Seungcheol sucks his cheeks. He clicks send on the message meant for his brother, feeling more and more like an assistant than someone who was next in line for the throne of the company. “Aight. Sent. Why am I here, by the way? You just so happened to drag me here? I thought there was a company emergency.”

He finally puts down his tablet. “There is. I’m dying.”

Seungcheol’s heart drops. “You’re… dying?”

“Well, not that I’m sick—god forbid, but you never know when I’ll die.”

That pretty much explains the origin of the majority of Seungcheol’s traumatic childhood.

“Dad, I don’t think it works like that,” he retorts with the quirk of his brow. “I thought it was a literal emergency. I left—”

“What? The garage? Come on, don’t act like I don’t know. I keep tabs on all my children—like right now, your brother is at his girlfriend’s house. The one he has yet to introduce to us, and in fact, I don’t think I like her.”

Seungcheol’s face contorts in confusion. He knows his dad like the back of his hand; if he didn’t know about the garage, Seungcheol would’ve been surprised. It’s almost an expectation that he would track both Seungcheol and his brother, and truthfully, it wouldn’t be totally out of character if he was tracking Seungcheol’s mother either.

“You’re always pressuring us to get married and run the company—isn’t him having a girlfriend just him going the right route? I’un get it. Isn’t that enough?”

Maybe that’s why Seungcheol only had flings; the girls weren’t ever disappointed in sex, and they never stuck around enough to figure out that he carried so much baggage. The wealth in his pockets might’ve been the reason for the hearts in their eyes (and his dick), but if they knew the weight of expectations from his parents that came with it, they’d run in a heartbeat. He didn’t want to bring anyone close enough that they’d meet his family, have to deal with the burdens he did, and it’s mostly why he’s been hesitant about telling you… everything. Even when he wanted to.

“I wanted him to date that girl, the one whose father owns KS Bank.”

Of course, everything loops back into business.

“Well,” Seungcheol begins, getting up from his seat. “He’s happy. Regardless if his girlfriend is a stripper or her dad owns KS Bank. If you want both of us to run the company, we should at least come home to a companion that we love and care for, shouldn’t we?”

His dad returns to his iPad, adjusting his glasses once again. “It’s not beneficial for the family business.”

Deja Vu hits—that same feeling he got when Namjoon swung at him returns, except the courier this time is his own father.

But just as he reacted with Namjoon, he remains cool.

Seungcheol probably rehearsed it a million times in front of the mirror, all the possible things he could say to refute his father’s beliefs. If his brother wasn’t in love with the girl he’s supposed to marry, sure, her status would definitely benefit the company, but… would he even want to help out anymore? Isn’t his happiness the priority?

Nonetheless, he knows that fighting back isn’t worth it.

Instead, he figures channeling that energy toward you would be more productive.

Although, with the last encounter the two of you had, it’s a bit doubtful he’d be able to achieve anything from being miles apart. For one, asking you to come see him when he had absolutely no plan whatsoever on what would happen when you arrive is… bold. Not to mention, you rejected his offer, saying something along the lines of, “that’s not how asking for forgiveness works,” and “things don’t get resolved on some ‘vacation high,’ Choi Seungcheol.”

And by all means, you’re 100% right.

This is an entirely new territory for him—he’s never actually had to ask or beg for forgiveness before because quite frankly, he never cared to. Burning bridges wasn’t a new concept for him, it was something he frequents. His mom never seemed disappointed, so he never felt the need to be apologetic, even if he felt the guilt, the words never emitted. Or when his father made that signature displeased ‘tsk’, Seungcheol had always been below the expectation that forgiveness wasn’t even worth chasing after.

But you—this experience with you, is a whole other thing.

That guilt gnaws on his insides brutally; he could physically see the impact that you have on him from his disheveled hair, bags underneath his eyes, and the sullen look on his face. Do you hate him? Do you want nothing to do with him? Did he ruin all his chances with you?

He’s never really had a serious relationship before—well, rephrase, Seungcheol has only ever had one serious relationship. “The Classic Couple,” was what they were called; they were the pair that the wealthiest parents would arrange for their children. The only thing wrong with them was that they didn’t work—or well, Seungcheol couldn’t make it work.

With a click of his tongue, reality settles in. If he really wants this, truly feels like there could potentially be more with you, then he has to make it work. This isn’t like the woman before you, you’re… you. Whether or not it lasts forever or just a couple months, he likes you—shouldn’t that be enough? Especially when you’re finally opening the door and hearing him out, stepping out of your own comfort zone?

“I’m gonna head back home then, since it seems like I’m not needed here,” Seungcheol says, grabbing his phones with a soft ‘thanks’ to the staff as they clear the plates. “I’m sure you two can handle things from here. If there really is an emergency—”

“You should’ve stayed with that girl,” Seungcheol’s dad interrupts, infamously cutting him off as usual. “The girl you dated a couple years ago. Margaret.”

“Maeri,” Seungcheol corrects. “Her name’s Maeri.”

And for the first time, his father’s lips curl into a smile. “So, you remember her.”

“Well, we dated for a while.”

“Shouldn’t have lost her,” he says, inhaling deeply. “I think I can reach out to her father and make an agreement. I’m sure she’d be happy to have you again. I ran into her at the banquet and when I brought up your name, her face lit up.”

Seungcheol stares at his father in disbelief. “Again, I feel like we should have more control over who we end up with, not you. I’m more than happy to try assisting you with whatever it is you need but I should be the one who chooses who I want to be with.”

“And? You chose her before, you can choose her again.”

Seungcheol quits this time, reminding himself again that he needs to preserve his energy for you.

There are a mixture of emotions that are flowing inside of you, eagerness and confusion, unsure of which to display. Do you showcase your excitement and elation or do you express the frustration and annoyance? Normally, it doesn’t really matter which you decide to promote; it��s only because this time, your reaction will result in what happens next.

Seungcheol sits on the hood of your car; in a leather clad jacket that hugs his arms so tightly, you’re almost tempted to spill an insult from between your lips on how he should get a size up (even though you most definitely can’t even stop staring), hair slicked back, and baggy black jeans, it’s the signature look of practically every label that Namjoon had given him. Seungcheol doesn’t say a word—instead, he watches you attentively, trying his best to determine what the expression on your face depicts.

He can’t quite tell what you’re thinking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, finally shattering the silence. “Get off my car.” You don’t really mean that, you like him here, and the fact that he’s back, still himself with that smirk on his face, only comforts your heart.

“Come on, baby,” he calls out, ignoring your sharp words with his fingers barely grasping onto yours, tugging you in close. The pet name that’s disgusting from a stranger is somehow sweet when it slips off his tongue, luring you in like some hypnosis spell. “You don’t miss me?”

Of fucking course you do—if it’s one thing that you admit, it’s that you were wrong about him. He’s not what those labels people whispered through the grapevine, completely different from an unattached, apathetic guy who doesn’t want anything that lasts longer than a night.

But you’re not gonna let him know that. At least, not that easily.

“No,” you retort through your gritted teeth, almost as if it’ll filter the insincerity of that response. “What’s there to miss?”

His hand slips into yours, interlocking your fingers before pulling you nearer. “Everything. Was it quiet down here? Were you lonely? Did it feel weird not to see my motorcycle out front? Or the garage open? What about my company? I know you hate the way I chew on gum, but I’m sure you missed hearing it in the background.”

You chew the inside of your cheek.

He’s so cute, and you feel like an idiot for being another girl that ends up on the list of falling for his irresistible charms.

“I felt like a one-night stand, Seungcheol,” you confess, his full government name slipping off your tongue with bitterness that hits his ears. He couldn’t get a pet name out of you, but his nickname is enough and his smirk is wiped from his face within seconds. “We fucked then you suddenly pick up a phone call then I just—I never hear from you again.”

“I admit that it didn’t help my case,” he sighs, pushing himself off your car. You’ve got your arms crossed against your chest, a shield to protect yourself from him. “And I can fully explain.”

He starts off with his dad—this cold, distant man somehow ended up with a woman that’s the opposite. Underneath that hard facade, he’s a father who wants his two sons to run his business, only that neither of them inherited the drive to push the company the way that he does himself.

“… That night that I left, I didn’t come back to the party ‘cause my dad made it seem like the company was goin’ under,” he discloses, deciding that now, he isn’t going to hide anything from you anymore. “I thought I had to go into this big board meeting with my brother and sign off to sell shares of our company ‘cause my dad fucked up or something.”

You roll your lips. There’s a bit of regret for making him feel bad, but it doesn’t discount how he made you feel either. “And then?”

“It was some stupid trap,” he groans, shaking his head. “He’s really good at doing that ‘we’re blood,’ guilt scheme. But uh, listen… I don’t expect you to forgive me or for this to fix up overnight.”

“Then what do you expect?”

“Honestly, um,” and for a moment, he pauses before chuckling. “I really contemplated asking you to be my fake girlfriend. My dad has this thing where he’s constantly trying to set me up with other women—”

The fronts of your brows shift together.

“—but,” Seungcheol adds, hoping you pause your thoughts from going in a direction where you’d stray from him. “To me, there’s just you.”

You blink blankly. “And what does that mean for us then? Where do we go from here?”

He slowly eases his arms to wrap around your waist, hesitant in his movements to confirm that you’re okay with his touch, only to then feel the anxiety lift from his shoulders when the weight of your arms replaces it. “We can… fix us. If you can push aside all the prenotions you’ve had of me, view me as someone that could be your boyfriend, then I want this if you do.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks; Seungcheol always manages to make your heart skip in its beats and cause that churning in the pit of your stomach. “Okay… but—” his smile fades the moment the second word appears, “—but we have work to do. You can’t exactly say we started off on the right foot.”

That stupid grin pulls on his lips once again as he settles back down onto the hood of your car, legs parting for you to sit yourself in his thigh, arms never leaving your frame. “I agree, pretty. I’m ready to do this when you are.”

And with a soft kiss planted on your nose, the comfort and warmth it brings makes you feel like this… is right.

Seungcheol admits that within the last month, his life has been pretty mundane in comparison to what he’s used to.

For one, he hasn’t received a call from his parents. Maybe they’re way too occupied to be concerned about him or that there wasn’t enough going on for him to tag along for, but all he knows is that it’s been radio silent on their end. Plus, the garage has been rather busy lately—he credits you for the increase in foot traffic, recalling how you rolled your eyes and snatched his phone from his hands on a Saturday night lounging on your couch, muttering “how are you supposed to get any business if you don’t advertise yourself?” Truthfully, he’s been banking on word-of-mouth from your neighbors that found out he does car maintenance, but this newfound array of customers isn’t so bad.

He likes the simplicity of this—in the mornings, he’d get to the garage early in the morning and park his motorcycle right by your steps. Pushing the overhead door with a rumble, he’d brush his hands off from the dirt residue left on the rubber at the bottom before placing his hands on his waist to take a good look at his shop—yes, his shop. He’d gotten so accustomed with calling it a literal garage that he forgets that it’s really a shop. Brew a pot of coffee, turn on the little TV he got for waiting customers (really, it’s for himself) before he got to business.

Then, around 6PM, you’d be back from work, dragging your legs up the steps into your home and he’s behind shortly after closing up. He enjoys how domestic everything with you is—cooking dinner together, eating dinner together, and then washing the dishes with one person scrubbing and the other rinsing before settling onto the couch to watch something on TV. Last night, you suggested, “King the Land,” which he normally isn’t a fan of watching K-Dramas, but with you, he finds anything entertaining.

Although the old version of himself wouldn’t ever confess this but… he likes being a boyfriend.

Maybe it’s just specifically that he likes being your boyfriend, considering in his last relationship, he didn’t favor that title as much. But now, he finds himself getting a little giddy inside when you introduce him in that way, almost like little kids get when their crush approaches them.

There’s something about the way you’ve given him a spot in your dresser for him to leave his spare clothes in case he unexpectedly stays the night, and how there’s a toothbrush residing in the cup beside yours, or even the fact that you’ve bought another set of slippers that’s just for him… it makes him feel more at home than at his own home. Seungcheol didn’t sleepover during his wave of late night escapades, but with you, he finds that the left side of the bed unspokenly assigned to him is something he didn’t know he craved for.

Seungcheol loves it. He loves all of it. And truthfully, if he didn’t catch himself before spilling it, he would’ve said he loves you, too.

Today is slightly different than usual, deciding that he would leave the estate earlier (and weirdly enough, living under the same roof as his parents didn’t tempt them from bugging him recently, but they did live on the opposite side of the home) so he could stop by the local coffee shop and grab you a cold brew.

You’re so pretty when you look surprised to see him outside your front door thay morning.

“Hey gorgeous,” he greets, that cheesy smile never leaving his face. You grimace at the term of endearment, but your expression juxtaposes how you feel inside. “I thought you’d like a change of pace and enjoy something from the cafe instead.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, grabbing the drink from his hands. “Vanilla?”

“Three pumps. Just how you like it, baby.”

You’re still so awkward when he says things like that—it used to be so easy to roll your eyes and push him away when he’d do it in such a sleazy way. But now, knowing the genuinity behind the words, he leaves you flustered. Even if he’s annoying and it’s the grossest thing he’s ever said.

“I have about six appointments today,” Seungcheol reaches over to open the lid of his black coffee, the steam rising from the paper cup. “You said you had a doctor’s appointment? So you’ll be back earlier?”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, zipping up your backpack. “I’ll grab lunch for us?” And shortly after, he watches you drive away to work before getting back to the garage so he could greet his next client.

If this is what it’s like to be part of the working class, Seungcheol could get used to this.

He acknowledges that ever since the two of you had resolved your issues, he got a bit carried away. Investing in his makeshift shop has become a whole ordeal, only because the constant drilling, clanging, and unnecessary constructing noises from the equipment installers weren’t exactly what he thought was going to come out of it for the first two weeks—but the realization that he could grow his business from the new customers made him excited. For the first time, Seungcheol felt like he was doing something he was proud of.

So yes, driving or walking by this garage in the middle of a city suburb underneath a house with a whole jacking up station for cars looks futile, but the abnormally high ceilings of your garage should be taken advantage of.

He likes this—beneath a car, pushing aside the plastic tray from this 2018 Honda Accord after unscrewing it and unplugging the drain plug before it falls into a bucket he uses as an oil receptacle. This is nice. This is calming. There’s no hollering from board members, no backhanded compliments from his father, and no attempts on pressuring him into doing things he doesn’t want to do like date a girl whose father has a monopoly on owning property the next town over.

Seungcheol just wants to watch a gallon of old oil release from a crankcase and into a bucket.

And honestly, he thinks his thoughts have spoken too soon when he notices a Rolls Royce Boat Tail pull into your driveway.

He hasn’t met everyone in your life, but one thing he knows for sure is that even the wealthiest people you know (Namjoon and Yubin) don’t flaunt their money in front of you. The rest of your friends are middle class, average working people, and the only way someone is driving to your home with a $28 million car is if they’re part of his life.

“Choi Seungcheol,” the person calls out; the door is shut behind him with a thud, Louis Vuitton sunglasses sitting comfortably on his nose with his long brunette hair combed away from his face. He dresses in a flamboyant shirt, the first couple buttons unraveled, and in sandals that cost four times your car. “I heard you do mods over here.”

Seungcheol comes out from the garage, brows furrowing when he realizes who makes an attendance at his shop. Juxtaposing in a stained white tank and the upper half of his overalls tied around his waist, for a moment, he felt like the two of them were part of two different worlds. “Yoon Jeonghan–do you really think you want to mod your car? Do you even know what that means?”

Jeonghan takes off his shades and slides it into his shirt pocket. “Absolutely not, I heard some guy mention it in a movie once,” he grins cheekily. “So, I heard you got a new place.”

“Well, I’m renting a garage.”

Jeonghan blinks blankly. “What’s renting?”

Seungcheol chuckles, walking back to his station as Jeonghan follows in suit. “It’s when you pay someone to use their space,” he grabs a rolling chair from behind a desk and gestures to Jeonghan for him to sit down. “What’s up? What are you doing here? You didn’t come here to get a lesson on renting.”

“I’m more surprised that you don’t own this place,” Jeonghan stares at the chair skeptically before glancing over at Seungcheol who points to it again. “And… not owning any new furniture.”

“It’s an autoshop, Hannie.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t afford clean chairs.”

“Alright, alright,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, grabbing a rag to wipe the opening for any residual oil. “You come here to lecture me about my place or are you here with an actual reason?”

His friend sighs, finally deciding to plop onto the old swivel chair. “I know you briefly told me that you’re ready to move on from your parents…”

Seungcheol scrunches up his face, grabbing a cylindrical tool from off his cart as he eyes Jeonghan carefully. “Something like that, yeah.”

“And rumor has it, your dad hasn’t been happy about your brother and his new girlfriend.”

“I wouldn’t say new, but my dad has been acting new about her.”

“Well, he’s been making moves to target you instead.”

The tool wraps around the oil filter, and with a bit of strength, it loosens as more oil spills from the sides, flowing into the bucket in unison with Jeonghan’s news.

“He’s targeting me? Stop being so ominous and go straight to the point.”

“Maeri’s back,” Jeonghan finally spills, and Seungcheol pauses in his movements. “Your dad met up with hers the other day—I have this bad feeling he’s gonna try to set something up.”

Out of all the people that Seungcheol has met through his parents and from their “community” (aka the rich people cult), Jeonghan is the only person he trusts. Although Jeonghan will never cut ties from his generational wealth, his loyalty as friend and unconditional support for Seungcheol has always been admirable.

“I mean, he hasn’t called me and—”

“Hey! I’m back! I brought—” you stop in the middle of your driveway, staring at the car you could never afford in your lifetime before looking at Jeonghan and Seungcheol. “I—Oh, uh, hey.”

Jeonghan grins mischievously, stealing a glimpse of Seungcheol then back at you. “Hey, I’m Jeonghan. Seungcheol’s friend.”

You mimic his smile, and something in Seungcheol eats him up whole because he’s quick to speak before you do. “Jeonghan meet—” he says your name, then for a brief pause, he calls you by a label so confidently, he even surprises himself. “—my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. He hears Pomp and Circumstance play inside of his head, the image of him receiving his diploma at the podium while in a cap and grown flashes before his eyes. Choi Seungcheol has finally graduated from the school of fuckboys, reaching that point in his life where he looks at the prettiest girl who manages to make his stomach tie into knots and call him his—truly his.

“Wow,” Jeonghan clicks his tongue. “Your girlfriend? Insane. I thought you said you weren’t gonna settle.”

He shrugs with that smirk on his face. “Wasn’t. But when you meet a girl like her, who are you to say no?”

Your cheeks heat up as you place the bag of food on the coffee table. “It’s uh… nice to meet you. I didn’t know Seungcheol had friends other than the girls he met at the club.”

Seungcheol shoots a glare but Jeonghan snickers. “I like you already,” he compliments, hand sliding into the pockets of his shorts. “I actually came to convince Seungcheol to attend a fundraiser that my mom is hosting this weekend,” the look Jeonghan gives his friend for a brief moment is suspicious, but the next inquiry gives it away. “… You should come too! Be his date.”

“Oh, um—”

“I’m not sure about that, Hannie,” Seungcheol interrupts, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think she’d want to see that part of our lives.”

Jeonghan quirks a brow. “And why not? She’s dating you, right? I’m sure she can answer for herself, and I’m sure she wants to see that side of you and your family.”

Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan divert their attention to you.

“You know, you didn’t have to say yes to Jeonghan,” Seungcheol’s standing outside of your bedroom door, leaning against the wall while waiting patiently for you to get dressed. “It’s a whole thing if we go—it ain’t like going to a work party.”

“Well, he—he made a, ugh,” you grunt, and he could hear you shifting inside with a struggle. “He made a point, if I’m dating you, I’m dating all of you.”

“Baby, why are you getting ready in private again? You’re acting like I haven't seen all of you.”

“I’m just—gah,” you knock your foot into the bed frame and wince. “I feel awkward.”

Truthfully, ever since the two of you had made it official, things haven’t… escalated, ironically. The nights he sleeps over are all pure and innocent; he’d nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, shower you with kisses, and wrap his arms around you to pull you close, resting your head on his chest.

But that was it.

Nothing more.

He hasn’t asked for it or initiated it, mostly because he’s slightly afraid you’d take it the wrong way but quite frankly, he’s been holding himself quite a bit. From when you come out the shower, the thin oversized shirt that hangs from your body is no match for your nipples protruding through the thin fabric, how you bend over to grab something and your sleeping shorts barely covering any skin, and there was even a time where you’d reach over his lap to grab something, breasts brushing against his thighs and ass up, he was wrestling with his sweatpants to hide his raging boner.

Trying to be a respectful gentleman, he keeps his distance. Normally, he’d be bold in his attempts to sway you—just as he did several times, including that night in his bedroom back at home, but now that you’re his girlfriend, it… feels inappropriate?

Weirdly enough?

A part of him is afraid you’d leave, especially when he’s got you now, but he admits that those cold showers aren’t doing any favors for him anymore.

“…Hey,” you call out again, this time it halts his train of thoughts with the door swinging open. Clutching onto the fabric of your dress in the front, his eyes immediately focus on your cleavage. Fuck. “The zipper is kind of low. Can you help me?”

He swallows that brick inside of his throat when you turn around.

Pushing your hair aside, you give him a view of your entire back. The zipper latch is right where your ass curves, and with a sharp inhale, he places a hand on your waist before pulling it up. It feels brutally slow, not to mention when he reaches up higher, he realizes where he expects your bra—there isn’t one. The smoothness of your skin is exposed and his dick twitches in his pants.

“Uh, um. I’m done,” he steps back, clearing his throat. “Ready?”

He feels like a vacuum sucked the air out of his lungs.

To him, you’re gorgeous all hours of the day. But something about today, in that tight fitting dress that hugs the outline of your body so well, and the makeup you applied only amplifies your beauty. He can’t help himself when he’s sneaking glances at your chest then back up to your eyes to the point he needed to get the fuck out of the house before he oversteps a boundary.

“Wow, uh, you look great!” Way to act natural. “Let’s uh, let’s head out.”

“Mkay,” you make your way before him to the front door, rummaging through the closet for your heels, and he turns away when your ass sticks out while you slip on your shoes. “Can you start the car?”

It’s going to be a long night.

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