#Cryptic Studios | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missarchive · 17 days ago

Text

PORNSTAR ★

spencer reid

summary; struggling under the weight of student debt and barely scraping by on a minimum-wage job, Y/N is desperate for a way out. When an old college friend sends her a link to an unusual job posting—camera operator for a top-tier adult entertainment studio—she hesitates but ultimately applies. The promise of competitive pay and discretion is too good to ignore.

She’s even more surprised to meet Spencer Reid, a nervous and awkward man who she initially assumes is part of the camera crew. Spencer’s stammering and shy demeanour put her at ease, but when she learns he’s not behind the camera but the star in front of it, her world is turned upside down.

cw; 18+ mdni, pornstar!spencer, camera crew!reader, spencer is not straight (neither is the reader), face-fucking, doggy, unprotected p in v, masturbation (f), spencer is still a sweetheart, bodily fluids, cum swallowing, dom!spencer but also dom!reader, reader is not very good at her job to be honest, "good boy", unprofessional relationships, FILTHY NASTY, praise, finger sucking, sub!spencer 🤭, handjobs, "slut", overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), threesome (mmf), filming for porn, whiny spencer, oral (m. receiving), pure filth, cowgirl, cumming inside, slight aftercare, pretty much fade to black

an; lots of love from beyond the grave, im still very ill. i hope you all enjoy this, please do not mind the spelling mistakes! i tried my best to proofread in my current state 😭

wc; 8k

The sharp, acrid smell of burnt coffee weaves through your tiny apartment, clinging to the fabric of your couch and the cluttered corners of the room. It lingers in the air, an unshakable reminder of your life’s current state: stagnant, suffocating, and just a little bitter.

You sit at the wobbly kitchen table, staring at your laptop screen like it holds the secrets to the universe. Instead, it shows a spreadsheet that hasn’t changed in weeks, no matter how many times you open it, no matter how hard you will the numbers at the bottom to magically disappear. $89,563.47.

That figure is more than a debt. It’s an anvil crushing your chest, a constant shadow in the corners of your mind. It’s the dream-crusher, the thing that keeps you up at night, whispering that you’ll never escape. With your minimum-wage job barely covering rent and bills stacking higher every day, every road out seems endless and uphill.

You exhale shakily, pushing your chipped coffee mug to the side as frustration wells up in your chest. The universe, it seems, has no plans to cut you a break. You let your head fall into your hands, fingers pressing against your temples.

And then, out of nowhere, a soft ding pulls you from your spiral.

Your phone lights up on the table, screen glowing with a notification. It’s from an old college friend—a name you haven’t thought about in over a year, someone who faded from your life the moment you both graduated.

“If you’re desperate enough… this is worth a shot.”

The message is short, cryptic, and followed by a link.

You hesitate, thumb hovering above the screen as your mind races. It could be a joke. Or a scam. But the weight of your desperation gnaws at your common sense. Against better judgment, curiosity wins out.

The link opens to a job posting.

“Camera Operator Needed for Top-Tier Adult Entertainment Studio. Competitive Pay. No Experience Necessary.”

You blink at the words, half expecting the screen to vanish in a puff of smoke. It doesn’t. Your first instinct is to laugh, a sharp, incredulous sound bubbling in your throat. But then, you see the salary.

Your breath catches in your chest. The number is real. The kind of real that could actually change things. A few months, maybe a year, and you could obliterate a chunk of that debt.

You sit back in your chair, the idea burrowing into your mind like a persistent whisper. It’s insane. Ridiculous. But it’s also tempting. One word, bold and unyielding, flashes on the screen: Discreetly.

You read it again and again, the weight of it heavy in your chest. That’s the catch, isn’t it? The only thing holding you back.

By the time dawn filters through your dingy curtains, your application is sent.

The sleek office building feels completely at odds with what you imagined. Its polished floors and glass panels scream corporate professionalism, not… this. Even the receptionist greeted you like you were interviewing for a finance job, her tone cool and efficient.

Now, you sit in the waiting area, hands folded tightly in your lap. The quiet hum of productivity around you is unnerving, and your pulse drums in your ears.

When the door finally opens, you glance up.

A man approaches you, clutching a clipboard. He’s taller than you expected, with a mop of brown hair that looks like it has a mind of its own. His glasses sit slightly askew on his nose, and he exudes an awkward kind of energy—nervous but strangely endearing.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice soft and hesitant, with just the slightest upward lilt.

“That’s me,” you reply, standing and smoothing the wrinkles from your shirt.

“Great! Um, I’m Spencer Reid. I’ll be showing you around today.”

You blink at him, caught slightly off guard. This is Spencer Reid? His name had been listed in the email, but somehow, you’d pictured someone… different. More polished, more self-assured. Less professor who forgot his lecture notes.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, smiling politely.

He nods quickly, adjusting the clipboard in his hands. “Yeah, uh, you too. So, um, if you’ll just follow me, I’ll… show you around.”

Spencer leads you through the maze-like studio, his steps hurried yet deliberate. The place is a whirlwind of activity—bright lights overhead, cameras perched on sturdy tripods, people buzzing with purpose.

As you follow him, he rattles off bits of information about the space, gesturing to equipment and rattling through explanations. His sentences stumble over themselves, his words tumbling out in fits and starts like he’s rushing to get them all out before they escape him.

“So, what do you do here?” you ask, trying to break the tension.

Spencer hesitates, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Oh, um, I work… mostly in front of the camera. But I, uh, know how the equipment works too, so I can help. If you have questions. About cameras. Or lights. Or… yeah.”

You suppress a grin at his stammering, chalking it up to an attempt to make you feel at ease. He must work behind the scenes, you think.

Maybe he interviews the actors or films promotional material. He doesn’t strike you as someone who could handle the spotlight. The thought settles you. At least he’s not intimidating.

The director greets you with a curt nod as Spencer leads you to the main set. Before you can take in your surroundings, Spencer slips away for a moment, leaving you to absorb the controlled chaos around you.

When he reappears, your jaw nearly drops.

Gone are the glasses and sweater vest. Instead, he’s wearing a tailored button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled just enough to reveal toned forearms. His hair is neatly tousled, his posture more confident, though there’s still a faint awkwardness clinging to him.

You blink, struggling to reconcile this Spencer with the nervous man who had stumbled over his words minutes ago. And then it hits you like a freight train. He’s not part of the crew. He’s not here to run the cameras or adjust the lights.

He’s the talent.

Your mind scrambles to process the revelation as you watch him step onto the set, chatting easily with the director. Someone hands him a script, and he scans it with an easy familiarity before nodding in agreement.

Meanwhile, you’re standing frozen, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing.

“Y/N, you ready?”

The director’s voice snaps you back to reality. You nod stiffly, moving into position by the camera, but your gaze keeps flicking to Spencer. He glances at you once, his lips twitching into a nervous half-smile like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind. It doesn’t help. If anything, it makes everything stranger.

You grip the camera tightly, your heart pounding in your chest. You thought you were prepared for this job, but nothing could have prepared you for Spencer Reid.

You can’t believe you’re actually doing this. The scene in front of you is far more intense than you had imagined. It’s your first real day on set, and Spencer is working with one of the female talents. From this distance, all you can focus on is the way he moves—sure and confident, his hips snapping rhythmically against his co-star’s body.

You fumble with the camera settings, trying to ignore the wet, sloppy sounds of sex that fill the room. You can’t tear your gaze away from Spencer’s cock, slipping in and out of her pussy like a well-oiled machine. Her hands clawing at his back as she gasps around his cock when he pulls out to force it in her mouth.

He threads a hand through her hair, the movement almost… tender. As tender as you can be for bruising the back of someone’s throat, anyway. She looks up at him, a smile on her lips, before he presses his cock to the back of her throat and lets her work him over. His face tightening, lips curling up into a smirk as she brings a hand up to hold what she can’t fit in her mouth.

Your stomach tightens at the sight of them together. You’re not sure if you should be so… invested in this. But it’s hard to tear your eyes away when he moves like that. You can’t stop watching.

“Focus on the face,” the director’s voice rings out. “We need her face. We need reactions.”

Your head jerks up, camera lens refocusing on the woman’s expression. It takes every ounce of your control to keep it steady and ignore the fact that Spencer is still balls-deep down her throat. It’s surprisingly easy to tune out, at least, until he flips her over, pinning her face-down to the bed. His cock pummeling into the woman from behind, her head turned to the side with glossy lips and tear-stricken eyes.

Spencer leans down, then, and you watch as he murmurs something in the woman’s ear, something you can’t quite hear. Her response is immediate—she gasps, her eyes going wide before her lips stretch into a perfect O. Her fingers dig into Spencer’s back as his thrusts become more frantic, and then he’s groaning, hips slamming against hers as he fills her with his cum.

The moment he finishes, the spell is broken. The camera drops to your side, and you breathe for what feels like the first time since the scene began. The director calls cut, and Spencer pulls out slowly, being careful of the woman underneath him, a small smile on his face as he reaches down to help her stand on shaky legs. He glances over, and for just a moment, his eyes lock on yours before he turns away to clean up. It’s stupid. It shouldn’t mean anything.

But… you can’t help the fluttering in your chest at the realisation that he was looking at you, even if only for a second. You try not to think about it too much as the day goes on, focusing instead on your job and taking in the sights and sounds around you.

It’s far more fascinating than you anticipated—watching the director’s decisions play out, watching the actors navigate their roles with ease.

But then, as the afternoon wears on, Spencer appears by your side again. He’s back in the clothes from this morning, and the awkward, shy energy has returned in full force.

“So, uh, you get a lunch break. And um, I was wondering… if maybe you wanted to grab something together. If you’re not busy. I mean, it’s okay if you are. I just…” His gaze darts to the side, voice trailing off. “I figured maybe we could talk more about your job, make sure you know everything you need.”

You blink at him. “You don’t have to do that,” you tell him. “I’ll be fine.”

Spencer shifts on his feet, looking slightly disappointed. But he nods anyway, turning to leave.

“Wait.”

The word slips out of you before you can catch it. Spencer looks over, eyes brightening ever so slightly. “Yeah?”

“Lunch sounds… nice.” Your voice is soft, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him as you say it.

When you finally meet his gaze, it’s the most natural thing in the world to see his lips curve into a small, shy smile.

Spencer Reid is a walking contradiction.

On camera, he’s a vision of dominance and raw confidence—a sex god, to put it bluntly. Every movement he makes is purposeful, controlled, and exudes a confidence that seems almost unnatural. But off-screen? He’s a different person entirely. Awkward, shy, and endearing in ways you hadn’t expected. He stammers, blushes, and struggles to find the right words in nearly every conversation. But every time he does, it only makes you smile. It’s impossible not to be drawn to him.

You sit across from him in a small café just a few blocks from the studio, the warmth of your coffee mug grounding you. The café is quiet, a peaceful haven far from the chaos of the city, where the sounds of honking horns and chatter fade into the background, leaving only the soft hum of conversation and clinking cups.

“So,” Spencer begins, his voice still soft and a little unsure, “how do you like the job so far?”

“It’s… interesting,” you reply, a laugh bubbling up.

“Good interesting or bad interesting?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s just… not at all what I expected. The studio, I mean. It’s so professional. Like any other office.”

Spencer nods, the nervous tension in his posture easing slightly. “Yeah, it really is. Most people think it’s all…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “They think it’s just… sex all the time, you know?”

You snort at the absurdity of it. “Definitely not.”

The thought of Spencer—the shy, uncertain man in front of you—being the confident, sexual force he is on camera is hard to reconcile. You can’t imagine him ever making the first move with anyone. It seems almost… impossible.

“We have contracts with each other,” Spencer continues. “And there are all kinds of protocols to follow for the scenes. It’s actually pretty strict.”

“That makes sense,” you reply. “I guess I never really thought about it like that.”

Spencer shrugs, a flicker of unease crossing his face. “A lot of people don’t. It’s weird, I know, but… it’s still work. And if anything goes wrong…” He trails off, his expression growing darker.

A sudden curiosity prickles in you, but you don’t push for answers. Instead, you ask, “How did you end up doing this?”

He scrunches up his nose, looking almost embarrassed. “It’s a long story, but… my friend convinced me to try out once. And then I just… liked it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. The image of someone convincing Spencer to do something so bold is almost too perfect. It’s exactly the kind of thing you could picture him doing—reluctantly agreeing, then discovering something unexpected about himself.

“I can’t really imagine that,” you say, your laugh light and teasing. Spencer blushes, his cheeks tinting pink as he shifts uncomfortably.

“What, you think I’m too shy for something like this?”

You nod, not hesitating for a moment. “Maybe just a little bit.”

“Yeah,” he admits softly, “I guess I am. I’ve gotten pretty good at switching it off when I’m being filmed. But in my day-to-day life… it’s like I can’t move past it.”

The words linger in the air between you, a strange kind of tension rising. You can’t help but wonder what else he’s been talked into. But before you can say anything, the door of the café chimes as a new customer enters. Spencer glances at the clock, his expression shifting into a look of reluctant understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he says, standing up. “We should get back. But hey, maybe we can grab lunch again tomorrow?”

You smile up at him, your heart beating just a little faster. “Sure.”

For a moment, you think he might say something else, but instead, he simply nods and turns to leave. You watch him walk away, a quiet disappointment settling in your chest. It’s not what you wanted—not exactly—but there’s something about Spencer Reid that pulls you in, something you can’t quite place.

Maybe it’s the awkward energy he exudes, the way he fumbles over words yet still manages to be endearing. Maybe it’s the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, or the way he transforms so seamlessly into the confident, dominant figure on camera. Whatever it is, you want more.

When you get home that evening, your mind keeps wandering back to Spencer. His eyes, his smile, the way his cock had moved inside his co-star. You replay the scene in your head again and again until it feels like you can almost hear the sounds of sex, almost smell his cologne wafting in the air.

It takes you a while to realise your hand has wandered down your body, fingers slipping between your legs as you imagine Spencer touching you.

The thought sends a thrill through you. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve gotten off thinking about someone, but… this feels different. This feels real.

You press a finger to your clit, applying a little pressure. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but it’s better than nothing. The image of Spencer’s face appears in your mind, his lips twisting into a pained expression as he comes. You imagine him over you instead of his co-star, his cock sinking into your pussy, his hands gripping your hips as he fucks you.

Your muscles clench at the thought, and a wave of desire surges through you. Your hand moves faster, fingers pressing and rubbing over your clit. You picture Spencer’s lips on yours, his breath hot against your skin as he speaks. You imagine the way his tongue would feel on you, the way his mouth would taste if he kissed you.

You come quickly, the pleasure overwhelming and swift. You barely have time to process it before the orgasm hits you, your body quaking as you climax.

When you open your eyes, your gaze falls on the ceiling. You feel dazed and far away, like you’ve left your body behind for a minute. It takes a while to come back to reality, to process what just happened.

But as you do, a sudden guilt creeps in. It’s not like this is something you’d never done before. But with Spencer Reid… it feels different.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re groggy, still caught in the afterglow of last night. It takes a few moments to remember the job, and another few to get out of bed.

As you shower, you can’t stop thinking of Spencer. The image of him on camera yesterday keeps popping up in your mind—his hips pumping between the woman’s legs, his fingers digging into her hips as he thrusts. And when he flipped her over… fuck. You can’t believe how much that got you going.

The way his cock disappeared into her, the sound of her gasps as he pounded into her.

You think of him behind you, his cock filling you, the length of him stretching your walls as he thrusts in and out of your body. The feel of his hands on your hips, holding you steady for his pleasure.

The image makes you gasp, and a wave of heat surges through you.

But as you stand there, water pouring down your body, another image pops up in your mind. Spencer across from you at the café, his cheeks flushing pink as he talks to you. His eyes brightening when you ask him a question, his smile growing ever so slightly as he answers.

You can’t help but be drawn to the contrast. Part of you wants to know more about his confidence on camera, to see what it’s like up close. Part of you just wants to pull the awkward, shy version closer and tell him that everything is okay.

There’s a lot you don’t know about Spencer Reid. But one thing is for sure.

You want more.

It takes a lot longer than usual to get ready for work, your mind wandering to all the possibilities. When you arrive, you head straight to the set, a strange mix of nerves and anticipation churning in you. It takes you a while to spot Spencer, and when you do, he’s chatting with the director.

It’s different now, somehow, seeing him in this space. He’s still awkward, still shy, but there’s an air of confidence around him that you didn’t notice before. You wonder what it would be like to be his co-star on camera. What it would be like to feel his hands on you.

The thought is a little startling, but you can’t deny it.

You watch as Spencer finishes speaking with the director, then turns towards you. His steps falter as he catches your gaze, and for a moment, it looks like he might change direction entirely. But then he pulls his glasses off, setting them down on a table near the door. Slipping his button-up over his head, leaving him in nothing but dress pants and an undershirt. He moves slowly, each action deliberate, and his gaze lingers on yours for a moment before he ducks into a nearby room.

When he comes back, his shirt is gone, and all that remains is smooth skin. You try not to stare, but your gaze tracks him anyway, watching as he makes his way to the main set. When he passes you, he catches your eyes again, giving you the tiniest smile.

You try not to wonder what that means, but it’s hard to focus on anything else.

When the director calls places, Spencer steps into position next to the female lead, and you take your spot behind the camera. As you adjust the settings, you try not to think too much of yesterday’s scene, but it’s impossible. The image of Spencer fucking his co-star from behind is still etched in your mind.

The director calls action, and Spencer launches himself at the woman, his mouth descending on hers. But as he kisses her, another man steps into view, and your gaze darts towards him.

He’s not as tall as Spencer, but his body is toned and well-defined, his cock already hard. He pushes Spencer against the woman, then starts to strip his pants off.

Your cheeks flush at the sight, and your mind struggles to make sense of what you’re watching. This isn’t how you imagined it would go, not at all.

Spencer presses his body against the woman’s, his lips moving against hers. He shifts her slightly, spreading her legs so the other man can take position between them.

You fumble with the camera for a moment before your gaze returns to the action. The sight of them all together is almost surreal. The other man slips his cock into the woman’s pussy, starting up a slow rhythm. He leans forward, and Spencer’s mouth drops to his neck, sucking a bruise onto his skin.

The woman gasps, pushing her hips back against the other man’s cock. Spencer shifts her again, and this time, he pulls away slightly, his mouth drifting lower on the other man’s chest. He sucks another mark onto his nipple, and you watch as his tongue teases over it for a moment.

Spencer pulls back then, his eyes darting towards you, before he glances down at the woman. He doesn’t need to say anything—his intention is clear. And without hesitation, the woman turns onto her hands and knees, the other man pulling out and flipping her over in one swift motion.

You shift the camera to capture the new angle, watching as Spencer moves behind the woman and slides his cock into her pussy. The other man moves with him, his hand wrapping around the woman’s neck as he slides his own cock inside her mouth.

The sight of them both fucking her is almost overwhelming. Spencer’s hand clamps down on the woman’s hip, his thrusts growing more frantic as he pounds into her from behind. The other man’s fingers dig into her hair, holding her still as he fucks her mouth. And when they both pause, you feel yourself holding your breath in anticipation.

Then Spencer’s mouth descends on the other man’s, and everything freezes. The sound of their kissing is loud and wet, and you try to remember to breathe, to remember to keep filming as they move together.

The camera shakes in your hands as you adjust it, trying to capture all three of them. You move closer, trying to take in everything at once. The sight of Spencer fucking the woman, of the other man fucking her mouth, of the three of them together. It’s almost too much to take in.

Spencer’s hand drifts down the woman’s back, then reaches up to tangle in her hair. He pulls her head back, and you can only imagine the sensation of his cock stretching her walls as he fucks into her. The other man pulls out of her mouth, then, and Spencer guides her down to take his cock instead.

The image sends a wave of lust through you. You can feel your pussy clenching at the thought of Spencer fucking her like this, at the thought of feeling him inside you. A sudden need surges in you, and before you can stop yourself, you whisper, “Fuck.”

The word is quiet, but it echoes in the room. Spencer’s eyes dart to yours, a look of surprise crossing his face. He falters for a moment, then continues, his hand reaching up to guide the woman’s head back and forth on the other man’s cock.

But his eyes remain locked on yours. And when you don’t look away, he starts to fuck the woman harder, his hips thrusting against her ass.

You’re frozen, unable to move. The camera is forgotten in your hands, your gaze fixed on Spencer as he fucks the woman in front of you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

The sound of his breathing fills the air, along with the sound of the woman’s gasps as he pumps into her. Then, without warning, he pulls out, his cock dripping with cum and precum.

He reaches for her, his mouth crashing down on hers as he pushes her back onto the mattress. The other man positions himself above her, and Spencer moves to kneel at her head. Then Spencer’s lips drop to the woman’s clit, and your gaze is drawn to the sight of him eating her out.

He sucks and licks at her pussy, his mouth moving over her clit. The other man groans, his hips starting up a slow rhythm as he fucks into her mouth. Spencer’s fingers move to her tits, playing with her nipples as he continues to eat her out with fervour.

The sounds of their fucking fill the air—the sound of the woman gasping, of Spencer moaning, of the other man’s breathing growing more rapid. You’re frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from Spencer as he eats her out. He pauses for a moment to pull back and look at you, then his lips drop back down between her legs.

It’s hard not to imagine him like this over you—his mouth moving between your legs, his tongue teasing over your clit.

Your pussy clenches at the thought, and you realize you’re soaked. The sound of your own breathing echoes in your ears, and you try not to look at Spencer, but you can’t help it. He glances up at you, his eyes locking on yours.

The connection between you is sudden and intense. You want to do something, to say something, but before you can, the other man groans. His hips start to pump harder, and Spencer moves back, his body positioning between the woman’s thighs.

His cock is still hard, still wet with precum from fucking her before. He positions himself against her pussy, then pushes in, his body shuddering as he sinks inside her.

The sight of him fucking the woman is almost too much. His thrusts are slow and deliberate at first, but soon he’s pounding into her, his cock moving in and out of her pussy in quick, slick thrusts. His hand reaches down to play with her clit, and her gasps grow more frantic as he rubs her towards climax.

The air is thick with tension, your breath coming in quick gasps as you watch them fuck. You can barely hold the camera still, your fingers shaking with anticipation.

The woman’s gasps turn into a cry, and she starts to come. Her pussy clenches around Spencer’s cock, and his body shudders with pleasure. The other man grunts, his cock erupting in cum as he shoots onto the woman’s chest. And Spencer fucks her through her orgasm, his cock moving faster and faster until he comes with a cry, his cum spilling into the condom.

You don’t realize you’ve stopped filming until it’s all over. The camera hangs in your hand, forgotten as your gaze lingers on Spencer.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath. When he does, his eyes flicker towards yours, Spencer smiles, then ducks into the bathroom. He emerges a few minutes later with a towel around his neck and his glasses back in place. You try not to laugh at the sight—he still looks like the same awkward nerdy boy from before. But now, when you look at him, you can’t forget the image of him fucking a woman from behind, his cock sliding in and out of her as he sucked bruises into another man’s neck.

And you can’t help but wonder how it would feel to have him do that to you.

It’s hard to get any work done for the rest of the day. Your mind keeps wandering back to Spencer, to his mouth moving on the woman, to his cock fucking her from behind.

When it’s finally time to leave, you grab your bag and head towards the door. But before you make it, a hand reaches out, tugging you into a dressing room.

You stumble as you enter, nearly crashing into the person who pulled you in. But when you turn around, you realize it’s Spencer.

His cheeks flush a deep red, and he shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I just… wanted to talk to you.”

A small laugh escapes you, and you smile at him. “It’s okay, I didn’t mind.” Then you add, “I guess this is your dressing room?”

He nods, looking around. “Yeah,” he says, “They gave me my own room.”

It’s not hard to see why. The room is small, but there’s enough space for a bed and a bathroom, and there’s a table near the door with a couple outfits laid out on it. You move towards the bed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress as you look around.

Spencer takes a seat next to you, his fingers picking at a loose thread on the bedspread. The silence grows thick between you, but instead of feeling uncomfortable, it feels strangely intimate.

You lean back, shifting your body slightly so your thigh is brushing against his. He looks up at the movement, his cheeks flushing again.

A smile plays across your lips. “Did you like me watching you fuck her?” you ask.

Spencer shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flickering towards yours for just a moment. “Yes,” he says finally, his voice low. “I really liked it.”

You lean in then, your shoulder brushing against his. “You wanted to fuck me instead, didn’t you?”

Spencer swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Yes.”

You smile at him, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. He shivers at the touch, and a little thrill of power shoots through you. “You were really hot today.”

He ducks his head at the words, but you can still hear a whisper of “thank you” from him.

You move closer, your arm winding around his shoulders and pulling him against you. His head drops to your shoulder, and you shift slightly, letting your lips brush against his ear.

“I really liked watching you,” you say, your voice soft and low. “Watching you eat her out, watching you fuck her like that. I wanted to be underneath you.”

Spencer swallows again, his breathing growing shallow. His hands move to your thighs, squeezing your legs slightly.

“I wanted to feel you inside me,” you continue, “To feel your cock stretching me open. I bet you’d fuck me hard, wouldn’t you?”

He moans at the words, his fingers tightening on your thigh. You can feel his body shudder against yours, and the knowledge that you’re turning him on like this is intoxicating.

“Do you want to fuck me?” you ask.

He groans again, and this time there’s a yes, yes, please.

You reach up, running your fingers through his hair. “I want you to touch yourself while you think of me,” you say. “While you think of me underneath you, of your cock sliding into me.”

He moans, and you can feel his cock growing hard against your thigh. “And if you’re good,” you add, “Maybe I’ll let you fuck me.”

Spencer groans, and his hips push forward slightly. You can feel him growing more aroused, and for a moment you’re tempted to give in and let him fuck you now.

But then you remember the quiet, nervous boy who took forever to approach you at the café. And the idea that he’d let you control him like this—both in front of the camera and in private—is too enticing to ignore.

You lean back, taking your hand off him. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even let you cum inside me.”

Spencer gasps, his breath catching in his throat.

His eyes drop to yours, filled with a desire. You smile back at him, but you know this isn’t over yet.

“Tell me again,” you say. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

He swallows, and you can see the hesitation in his eyes. “Please,” he says finally. “Let me touch you. Please let me fuck you.”

The words send a rush of power through you, and you have to work to keep from smiling. “Keep begging,” you say instead.

Spencer nods, his eyes wide. “Please let me fuck you,” he says again. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He’s growing more desperate by the second, his fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt tightly. You can hear the whine in his voice now, and you wonder how long he can hold out.

“Please,” he says again.

You watch him for a moment, studying him. He’s looking more and more desperate by the second. You wonder how much it would take to push him over the edge.

“You have to promise to do whatever I say,” you say finally. “Whenever I tell you to.”

Spencer nods so fast it’s almost funny. “Anything,” he says. “Whatever you want.”

A thrill of excitement shoots through you, and for a moment, you forget about anything other than the power he’s giving you. You could make him do anything—make him get on his hands and knees and beg for permission to touch you. Make him eat you out until you’re screaming and dripping with cum, and not let him stop until you’re satisfied. Make him fuck you until you can’t walk straight, until you’re sore and aching from taking his cock.

You shiver at the thought, your pussy growing slick with arousal. But you don’t stop, not yet. You reach for him, taking his face in your hands and making him look at you.

“You’re mine,” you say. “Do you understand?”

He nods again, his breath coming in quick pants. “Yes,” he gasps. “Whatever you want.” Then he adds, “Please.” The word is a moan, filled with desperation and need. “Please, fuck me.”

Your fingers tighten on his jaw, and you lean in closer. “Say it again,” you say.

He nods, his eyes growing desperate. “Please fuck me,” he says again, his voice a low whine. “I need it.”

A soft laugh escapes you, and you move closer to him, your lips brushing against his forehead. “I love the way you beg,” you say. “It makes me so wet.”

He shivers at the words, and you can hear the breath hitch in his throat.

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” he says. “To feel you fuck me until I’m raw.” He pauses, then adds, “Until I can’t take it anymore.”

The words are almost too much. You can feel your own arousal growing, your pussy aching with the need to be fucked.

“Maybe,” you say, “If you’re good enough, I’ll let you.”

Spencer whines at the words, his body shaking slightly. You lean in, your mouth moving to his neck. “Will that be enough?” you ask.

“Yes,” he gasps, his fingers clenching against your thighs. “Whatever you want. Just please let me fuck you.” The words are a moan now, filled with need.

The word sends a rush of arousal through you, and before he can say anything else, you pull back. “Good boy,” you say softly.

His fingers tighten on your leg, but he doesn’t say anything.

You smile, reaching for his glasses and pulling them off his face. “Get on your hands and knees,” you say then.

Spencer nods, moving to do what you said. You watch as he gets into position, his hands and knees on the mattress, his ass in the air. You move behind him, running your fingers over his hips, teasing his skin.

“Spread your legs,” you say. “I want to see how desperate you are for my cunt.”

Spencer does as he’s told, spreading his legs for you. And you can’t help the groan that escapes you at the sight. His cock is already leaking with precum, and you know he’s aching to be touched. To be fucked. To have your pussy wrapped around him, to feel him sink inside you until he’s balls deep.

The thought sends a rush of lust through you, and you lean forward, running your hands over his back. You move up to his shoulders, then run your fingers down his arms. When you get to his hands, you reach for the lube on the table.

“Get yourself nice and wet for me, baby,” you say, squeezing out a generous amount on his palms.

He does as he’s told. And when he looks back at you, you nod to his cock. “Touch yourself,” you say. “Show me how much you want to be inside me.”

He nods, and without hesitation, he reaches for his cock, his hand wrapping around it. You watch for a moment as he strokes himself, his movements slow at first. But it doesn’t take long for his hips to start pumping, his hand moving faster and faster as he strokes.

“Mmm,” you say, smiling at the sight. “I like that.”

Spencer moans, but he keeps going, his hand pumping his cock until he’s fucking his fist. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and you can’t help your own arousal from growing. Your pussy is slick with need, and all it would take is one touch from his hand and you’d be cumming.

You shift closer to him, reaching out to run your fingers over the small of his back. Spencer gasps, his hips stuttering for a moment. But then he continues, his hand stroking his cock until it’s almost too much.

“Can you cum like this for me?” you ask.

The words are enough to push him over the edge. His hips thrust into his hand, and you can hear his breathing grow ragged. “Yes,” he whines. “God, yes.”

A smile plays on your lips. “Then do it,” you say. “Cum for me.”

He cries out at the words, his cock pulsing in his hand as he cums. The sound of his orgasm fills the room, and for a moment all you can do is watch him in wonder.

When he’s finished, he collapses back against you, his body relaxing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, holding him to your chest as you smile.

“Good boy,” you say. “Just like that.”

And when Spencer nods, you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the thought of your obedient little slut. You’ll break him in slowly—letting him touch you and taste you until he’s desperate for your pussy. And then, when you’re ready, you’ll let him fuck you.

And once he has your pussy, he’ll never let go. He’ll be obsessed with it, with the feeling of being inside you. With the way your muscles clench around him, with the way your cunt grips him tight as he fucks into you. With the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his hips, with the way your pussy milks him until he cums deep inside you. With the sound of your moans as he fucks you until you’re aching and raw. With the taste of your pussy on his tongue as he eats you out until you cum on his face.

Spencer whimpers against you, and you run a hand through his hair, petting him. “Shhh,” you say. “That was good. You’re doing so well.”

He moans against you, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods, leaning back against your chest.

You smile, your fingers moving to his hair again. “There’s my good little slut,” you say.

He groans at the words, his breathing growing faster. You move your hand to his cock, running your fingers along the length. “Look how hard you are,” you say, stroking him lightly.

Spencer moans again, and you can feel him shudder against you. “Are you ready for more?” you ask.

“Yes, please,” he gasps.

You smile at the desperation in his voice. You pull back, looking down at him as you run your finger along his lips. “Open your mouth,” you say.

He does as he’s been told, and you push your finger between his lips until he sucks it into his mouth. You pull your finger away, smiling at him. Then you reach for a condom, and stand up. “Take off your clothes,” you tell him, tearing open the package.

Spencer’s eyes flicker to yours, but he moves quickly to comply, pulling off his pants and shirt until he’s naked. You take a moment to study him, to study the way his cock is hard for you, the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes.

Then you reach for him, guiding him back onto the bed. You push him down, spreading his legs as you move between them. He whimpers as you pull his thighs up, and for a moment, all you can do is look at him like this.

He’s beautiful—spread out on the bed for you, his thighs spread wide and his cock hard. His eyes are glazed with lust, and he’s breathing hard. You can see the way he’s shaking slightly, and you know how much he wants to be inside you.

A soft smile plays across your lips, and you reach for your clothes, pulling your skirt up around your waist. You can’t help the moan that escapes you as you sink down onto him, the feeling of his cock filling you almost too much to handle.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasps as you sink down further.

You moan at the words, your head dropping to his shoulder as you take his cock deeper. You can feel him stretching you, filling you until you’re almost too full to move. When you’re finally seated on his hips, you pause, looking down at the sight of his cock disappearing into you.

Spencer groans again, his hands moving to your thighs. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers. “Your cunt is so perfect.” His hands tighten on your thighs, and he pushes up into you, making you moan.

You nod, and then lean down, taking his mouth in a kiss. You move slowly at first, your hips shifting back and forth as you grind down on his cock. But it’s not long before you’re fucking him in earnest, your body riding him until you’re gasping with pleasure.

He’s so good, you realize. He feels so good inside you, better than anyone you’ve ever had. His cock is thick and full, and you can feel the way it’s stretching you until you’re aching. The knowledge that he wants you—wants to fuck you and fill you with his cum—only makes it better.

You move faster, your body grinding down on his cock as you fuck him. Spencer is moaning now, his breath hot against your ear as he groans. His hand moves to your ass, his fingers gripping tightly as he pulls you down onto him.

“Yes,” he moans. “Like that. Fuck me like that.”

You nod, your hips picking up the pace until you’re bouncing on his cock. You can feel yourself building, the pleasure growing with each thrust until it’s almost overwhelming. You cry out as you cum, your body shaking with pleasure as your pussy clenches around him.

Spencer cries out with you, his hips bucking up into you as he cums. You collapse against him as he finishes, his cock throbbing deep inside you. You stay there for a few moments, until the last tremor of pleasure fades away. Then you pull off him, reaching for a cloth to clean yourself with.

When you look back at him, he’s watching you with wide eyes. “Was that…good?” he asks finally.

You smile at him. “It was amazing,” you say, and you mean it.

Spencer smiles back at you, then nods. You can see a little blush on his cheeks, and you can tell how pleased he is with himself.

You reach for his hand, taking it in yours as you smile again. “You were perfect,” you add. “Just like I knew you’d be.”

He flushes a little more at that, but you can see how happy he is. You squeeze his hand once more, then let go. “Come on,” you say. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

You help him up, then reach for his clothes. He watches as you hand them to him, and you can still see how aroused he is.

He moves to put his pants on, but pauses when you stop him with a hand on his shoulder. “Not those,” you say. You point to the corner of the room, where you can see his boxers. “Those.”

Spencer pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering to yours. “Okay,” he says softly, and he moves to do as he’s told.

You can’t help the smile that comes to your face at the sight, at the way he obediently puts on the boxers you tell him to.

“Come here,” you say when he’s done.

He moves to you, and you take his face in your hand. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” you say.

His eyes widen at the words, but he nods. “Yes,” he says, his voice soft.

You pull him closer, your lips moving to his ear. “And what do I want?” you ask.

“To fuck me,” he whispers.

You smile at that. “And you’ll do anything I want,” you say.

“Yes,” he agrees.

You run your thumb along his jaw, smiling at the sight of him standing there in boxers and a tee-shirt, waiting to do your bidding. “Good,” you say. “My good boy.”

Spencer moans at the words, leaning into your touch. “What do you want?” he asks.

You study him for a moment, then smile again. “For now?” you say. “Nothing. Just you.” You lean in, taking his mouth in a soft kiss. “I’m so lucky to have you,” you whisper against his lips.

Spencer makes a soft noise, then kisses you back. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispers against your mouth.

You smile at that, then pull back and take his hand. You lead him to the bed, then guide him onto it. “Stay,” you tell him as you pull the covers back.

He nods, watching you as you climb in next to him. You reach for his hand, then settle back against the headboard.

“I don’t have to leave?” he asks.

“No, baby, of course not, ” you reply. “You can stay.”

You watch as a smile spreads across his face, and he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder. You can feel his fingers tighten on yours, and the knowledge that he wants to stay with you like this—that he wants to curl up in your arms and let you comfort him—is so sweet it almost hurts.

You wrap an arm around him, then move to pull him close. “Sleep,” you tell him softly.

“You deserve it.”

He doesn’t reply, but you can feel him relaxing against you, the tension in his body easing as you hold him. He’s warm against your side, and you can smell the scent of soap and lube on him. You hold him for a moment more, then reach to turn off the light.

“Rest now,” you say. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

Spencer nods, his fingers tightening on yours one more time. Then he drifts off to sleep, and you stay with him until you fall asleep too. You dream of the next time you’ll fuck him, of the things you’ll do to him until he’s begging for your mercy.

★

#missarchive #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader

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fantasticalleigh · 2 years ago

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i love mcr and always will but please....for the love of god...stop being cryptic...stop with vague phrases and tweets...announce shit or dont i’m so tired of hoping and waiting it’s been an agony since 2019 idk how much more i can take

#YOU HAD YOUR MOMENT TO BE CRYPTIC WITH THE RETURN CAMPAIGN #IT SLAPPED #and then you dropped it and don't ever acknowledge the occult theme/concept anymore wtf happened?????#leigh speaks #i'm too tired to track all these breadcrumbs down you know?#you could release a three hour loop track of the guys ripping ass in the studio and i'd listen to it and thank them for it at this point #but stop playing with my feelings :'( i couldn't take it if these crumbs are for anything else than new music

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f1girliefics · 4 days ago

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The Red Thread of Love

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: When Lewis Hamilton celebrates his new chapter with Ferrari, he plans a little surprise for you.

The invitation had arrived with little context, just a brief message from Lewis.

“Be ready at 3. Dress comfortably but leave everything else to me. You’ll see.”

You’d spent the morning wondering what he had planned.

It wasn’t unusual for Lewis to organize surprises, but the cryptic tone left you more curious than ever.

When the car came to pick you up, you were greeted by a cheerful assistant who offered no hints as you were driven to a grand studio in the heart of the city.

You were both nervous and excited.

Stepping inside, your jaw dropped.

The entire space was bathed in shades of crimson and scarlet, from the backdrop to the plush seating area adorned with roses and candles.

A rack of dresses stood in one corner, each more breathtaking than the last.

Red.

All over. Everywhere.

Red.

“Lewis... what is all this?” you asked, turning as Lewis walked toward you.

“Welcome to the celebration,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Celebration?” you asked, your eyes scanning the room. “This looks like something out of a movie. What are we celebrating?”

He stepped back, spreading his arms to gesture at the room.

“Ferrari,” he said. “A new chapter. And I couldn’t think of a better way to make it perfect than with you by my side.”

You smiled at just how sweet he was. “So, a photoshoot?”

“A photoshoot,” he confirmed, his excitement unmistakable. As if he was a child in an ice cream shop. “But not just any photoshoot. This is for us. To capture this moment, this feeling. And if the pictures come out half as stunning as you, I’ll call it a win.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, Lewis.”

“Impossibly in love with you,” he took your hand and led you toward the rack of stunning dresses.

A stylist and her team appeared and took you away to work their magic.

Lewis disappeared to get ready, leaving you in awe as they helped you into a stunning red gown.

The fabric hugged your body perfectly, the intricate beadwork catching the light with every movement.

When you were ready, Lewis was waiting near the set, now dressed in a deep red suit that complemented your gown and his skin tone perfectly.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes widening slightly.

“Wow. Just... wow.”

You smiled at him. “Not so bad yourself, Mr. Ferrari.”

He laughed, offering his hand to you. “Shall we?”

The photoshoot was filled with laughter, stolen glances, and playful banter.

The photographer guided you through poses, but most of the magic happened naturally.

Lewis was used to the camera, and there were moments when you almost forgot that there was a camera.

“Lean into him a bit more. Yes, perfect. Now, look at each other like you’re sharing a secret.”

You tilted your head toward Lewis. “Secret?” you whispered.

“I was going to say how stunning you look,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “But I don't think that is a secret.”

The photographer’s shutter clicked furiously as you laughed, unable to contain your joy.

Another setup featured a velvet couch, with you perched elegantly while Lewis sat beside you, his arm draped protectively over you.

“Let’s try something more candid. Maybe a moment of celebration?”

Without missing a beat, Lewis leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Remember when I said this was for us?”

You nodded.

“I lied. This is also for me. Because I get to show off the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You smiled at him, your genuine happiness lighting up the frame. It was heartwarming to see Lewis so proud and happy.

As the session wound down, the photographer prepared for the final shot. “Let’s end with something intimate,” she suggested. “A kiss, perhaps?”

You turned to Lewis, your heart full as he cupped your face gently.

The kiss was soft, tender, and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the love you shared.

The camera clicked, but the world around you seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled back, Lewis pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here. For always being here,” he said, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me.”

You smiled, your eyes misting over. “You already do, Lewis.”

The photoshoot ended.

But now you have the pictures to always remember these moments.

Each photograph captured the joy, love, and hope that was your relationship with Lewis.

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crypticsim · 4 months ago

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GLIMPSE // OCTOBER

beyoncé and sharelle stop by cryptic studios. here’s a glimpse of what’s coming in october.

#ts4 edit #ts4 portrait #maxis match #ts4cc #beyonce #**#c

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silkscream · 10 months ago

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pure smile snake venom

ੈ✩ suguru geto x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, dom!suguru, emotional manipulation, fingering, dubcon, blood, yandere behavior, edging, multiple orgasms, choking, loss of virginity, religious imagery

ੈ✩ wc: 5.1k

ੈ✩ a/n: oooo i am soo normal about cult leader suguru. art by @/wonowono__3 on twitter

He finds you unconscious.

He feels you before he sees you – your cursed energy permeates the air with dread. He can feel it in his throat, as if the hand of his past self materialized to strangle him, reminding him of desperation. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, not anymore.

It also felt like death.

When he finds you, your body would have easily been looked over, small as you were compared to the vastness of the forest around you. Insignificant, left to rot.

When he’d looked at your face, there was recognition in his chest despite not seeing you before. He hadn’t been drawn to anyone in a while. He barely had anyone that wasn’t at arm's length to him, even his closest devouts, yet something about the delicateness of your face enticed him. A predator finding lost prey.

He finds it mildly sacrilegious to touch you when you’re in this state, but your shirt was saturated with so much blood that it took him a bit to realize that the color of the fabric was supposed to be white and not merlot-red. He lifts your shirt, grimacing at its dampness, and finds a wound that looks fatal.

He looks at it and feels the residuals of a nasty curse. By the time he tracks it down, he tortures it with all of the energy inside of him.

You wake up on a futon you don’t recognize. You don’t remember a thing.

You wince as you attempt to rise, clutching your side. You’re topless, clothed only by gauze covering your chest and ribs.

You exhale, closing your eyes. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you see a face with a vacant smile. You are met with that very smile when you open your eyes again.

“Welcome back.”

You blink. He must be the stranger that saved you from — well, what did he save you from? You were used to spirits, took years to adjust to that fact, and have even killed a few yourself. But when you feel the pain in your side, nothing comes to mind.

“You… saved me?”

“I suppose so. It was pure luck that I happened to stumble upon you.”

“Where — where am I?”

He tells you it’s his temple, then he tells you his name. When he asks for yours, you’re reluctant. Eventually, you tell him. If he was luring you into his trap, you suppose you had fallen into it against your will by pure chance. It was probably better than bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you have anyone who will miss you?”

You don’t say anything. You think of the dingy studio apartment you’ve been subletting for a few months. You try to conjure up a narrative of belonging in your head that would give you any reason for you to leave. Nothing comes.

You shake your head.

Geto Suguru is the first person to tell you that you’re magic.

You knew that, in some way, ever since you were a child. Your intuition made you a strange child, always slightly cryptic with a sense of maturity that made you seem like a vessel for a sad ghost. Your visions would only get stronger – small bursts of light whiplashing through your mind into images, rapid like a supercut. The things you saw would come true.

This is what makes you a good weapon. Ironically, you had always thought of yourself as weak.

He was captivating the way a cult leader should be, and you had fallen under his spell. It was his robes and the regal way he carried himself, maybe. You don’t think he’s bad — he’s made you important, and you’ve never felt wanted before. You were a recluse before Suguru found you. Barely the shape of anything, so he found it appropriate to mold you into something to call his.

Suguru doesn’t tell you much. You know that he probably lies to you.

He holds too much power for you to question it. His cursed technique is daunting and his grace is enviable, but he’s mostly kind. You help him when he finds curses, usually the more powerful ones that could threaten him. Able to see into the near future, you can sense their next move each time. It makes it easy to subdue them to Suguru’s advantage.

You also find that he is regarded as something of a saint to non-sorcerers. Something twists in your gut when you watch his exorcisms, seeing the immediate relief in the faces of his followers. They look at him with so much adoration that it makes you self-conscious that you share the same disposition.

He tells you you’re his favorite and the feeling dissipates.

You like how ritualistic living in the temple is. Breakfast at the same time each day. Tea in the garden. Rolling in the gross with bruised knuckles.

You take a liking to his girls. They remind you of yourself, but they lack the meekness you had as a teenager. The twins adore you almost as much as they adore Suguru. They are endlessly fickle, as most teenage girls are, but their devotion is worn candidly in the way they carry themselves. You wonder how they can be so obedient, but you realize that they have known nothing else.

It’s a quiet luxury. You like to pretend that you’re some sort of priestess, sometimes. You had never been as reverent as your mother, but you think that there is peace in serving a God. If not Suguru, then some higher power must’ve granted you another chance at life, even if your new life meant mundane piety.

You liked routine – it fit you. You did your part in the temple and Suguru would reward you with gentle praises. You were only one of few sorcerers in his current entourage, so you felt special.

Despite this, something felt messing. You often wish Suguru could cast out the malaise inside of you, but you’ve carried it in the pit of yourself for as long as you could remember. Even in your pious bliss, you start wondering if the curse that nearly killed you left a part of itself within you. Each day is the same until you wear thin.

When the string finally breaks, you find him with blood on his hands in the temple’s omoya.

It’s not the blood of a curse, either. It’s dark crimson, such as the same blood that is inside of you, and on the tatami mat lies the lifeless body of a servant.

Shin, his name was. He wasn’t much younger than you, but he had the spirit of a boy, always able to make you laugh before he served you breakfast. He had arrived only a few months after you had, citing suicidal ideation as a catalyst to seeking Suguru’s services. Once treated, he had felt larger than life.

And now, his face is frozen in time – the look of sheer fear.

“Useless monkey,” Suguru tuts, wiping the blood off his face. You’ve seen that look on his face before — when he’s cruel and callous in battle. When he snaps the neck of a special grade curse before he eats it.

You run to the bathroom to vomit.

When you emerge, one of the twins looks at you curiously. Mimiko. She smiles at you serenely, her eyes flickering with taunt.

“Is everything alright, Y/N-san?”

“Y-yes,” you nod. “Just a bit under the weather.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Her eyes light up for a second. “Oh, could you be pregnant? Nanako and I really wish there was another kid around—“

“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” you cut her off, shocked. Did she think you and Suguru were… together? Did she think you were his concubine?

“Ah. I can get the servants to prepare some ginger tea for you.”

“No need, Mimiko,” you shake your head, smiling sheepishly. “I just… need to get some air.”

She leaves you alone as you walk towards the pagoda. You feel another wave of nausea when you remember Shin’s lifeless eyes. The blood on his throat.

You stare at the sunset. It’s been a long time since you’ve left the temple of your own volition. Suguru keeps a tight leash on you nowadays, blaming the unpredictability of your power. Bitterly, you realize that you’re only ever in town alongside him.

Sometimes, you miss being a stray.

His presence is immediate. When you turn, his long hair sways in the breeze as he flashes you a cat-like smile.

“Thought you were trying to run away from me,” he murmurs, walking towards you. “But you’d never do that, would you?”

“Just… enjoying the view.”

He looks at you, amused. It feels belittling.

“I apologize. I thought Nanako had locked the door.”

Your blood stills. He saw you.

“I thought you only killed curses,” you stammer. For the first time, his presence makes you feel unsafe.

“I never said that, sweet girl,” he chuckles. He plays with a loose strand of your hair. “Humans are beneath us, you know that. Humans are the reason curses are created. Curses just like the one that nearly killed you.”

You don’t have it in you to protest. He’s gotten closer to you now. A hand on your waist. His lips kissing your hairline in a way that makes you feel like a child again.

“I— I liked him,” you stutter.

“Mm,” he hums. “He liked you, too. A bit too much if you ask me.”

You stay silent. Only the sound of cicadas fill the air.

“It’s not your fault,” he grins. “You charm anyone you meet by default, you know. But sometimes, these followers… they want to threaten our mission. Sometimes, they’re paid off by sorcerers who are targeting me to gather intel. And darling, when there’s a target on my back, there’s a target on yours.”

You pull away from him with wide eyes. His face is neutral. So naive, you are. He was only doing you a favor, but a sheltered girl like you trusts too easily.

“Just remember. I will be the only one to protect you.”

He finds you in the garden.

You’re surrounded by wildflowers, your yukata loose enough on you that it falls off your shoulder when you sit up to greet him. The sight of your bare skin tokes the fire in his stomach. He’s dressed more casually tonight, in a plain kimono as opposed to his usual gojo-gesa.

“Enjoying the fireflies?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He notices the dark circles under your eyes. Your smile is tired now. You stare blankly as if you’re in a trance.

“You’ve been a bit off lately,” he muses. “Something on your mind?”

You blink at him in surprise, almost regretting it once you make eye contact. The hint of a lazy smile is there while his eyes scrutinize you. It always feels like he can see right through you, observing you just before he eats you whole.

“No, Geto-sama,” you shake your head.

He laughs, rubbing your shoulder. “So formal with me.”

“Shouldn’t I be?” you knit your brows. You had been at the temple for less than a year. You weren’t intimate with him enough to warrant that. You weren’t intimate with him in the way your heart longed for.

“Not with me. Never with me.”

“Suguru.” You mull over the taste of his name on your tongue. The shape of it in your mouth. “I’m okay, Suguru.”

You feel pathetic under his gaze. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, sensing the apprehension in your voice. The slight quiver of your bottom lip as you avoid his face.

“I’m just… recovering. From my technique, that’s all,” you say hoarsely.

It’s not a complete lie — the intensive training with Suguru led you to discover that you could bend time and space to your will in small aspects. Teleporting short distances became a new tool for your arsenal. It was still difficult to manage and exhausting to exert. The other day, your nose had bled so much that you almost thought your membranes would burst completely.

“You’re exhausting yourself,” he says gently, rubbing a hand to the small of your back. “But you’re improving rapidly. I’m proud of you.”

Warmth floods your body at his praise. It was too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, and you were starting to hate it.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“Do you feel powerful?”

You take a moment of reprieve when he asks this. Powerful? Despite being a sorcerer and wielding the ability to exorcise the monstrous manifestations of human suffering, you did not feel powerful at all. You never have. If anything, you only felt useful.

“Not really.”

“You should,” he smiles. “You’re getting stronger. We’re untouchable together, you and me.”

You and me echoes loud in your brain. Stitches itself into every crevice unwittingly.

“Ge– Suguru,” you swallow thickly. “Is that why you saved me? Because you wanted me to get strong?”

“Yes,” he nods without hesitation. “I saw potential in you.”

“Is that all I am? Potential? I’m just– just a vehicle for you?”

He leans over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His own hair is down, for once, and you can smell his white tea shampoo as his shoulder touches yours. It almost soothes you.

“You aren’t just a tool to me, you know that,” he sighs, looking at you with intent. “I like taking care of you.”

You nod slowly as you look towards the sky. His words aren’t enough to fill the emptiness inside you. His proximity to you makes your chest constrict in the slightest bit, creaking the floorboards of your ribs inside a haunted house body.

You shiver when he pulls down your yukata and presses a chaste kiss to your collarbone. It must feel the same as when humans get their curses exorcised by him. Lightness in their being instead of dead weight. Blessed by a god.

“Come inside,” he purrs. “You’re getting cold, yeah? I can see your goosebumps.”

No. His hands were just colder than you expected.

He gathers his hair into a half-up bun before he brings you to his room for the first time. It’s rather bare, save for the kotatsu across from his futon and the talismans that are hanging above it. The calligraphy is messy, unintelligible, as if the text was written manically.

He sits you down at the kotatsu and pours you bergamot tea. You cough nervously in anticipation.

“Suguru.”

“Yes?”

“Um.. how long do you intend on keeping me here?”

He raises a brow. Looks at you like you’ve asked something stupid.

“You have somewhere else to go?” he asks sarcastically.

You triple-blink at his bluntness. He isn’t taking you seriously.

“Well, I have a friend or two in my hometown. I was thinking about—”

Your breath hitches when he grabs your chin. His gaze bores into your face, his lips in a hard line.

“You’re unhappy,” he says plainly.

“No, I’m just not sure if I can completely fulfill the purpose that you—”

“Do you think anyone else will take you in?” he spits. “You told me yourself. You have no family. You were barely scraping by when you lived alone. With the amount of cursed energy you possess, you think you’ll be able to protect your friends from all the curses you’ll attract?”

You sink into yourself. As if a switch is flipped, his expression changes completely. There’s that familiar softness in his eyes again. God, the tea was making you feel so warm, too. One look from him and you find yourself melting. Even the Devil would swoon.

“Don’t you think fate brought us together?” he whispers. “Don’t you know how valuable you are to me?”

He almost sounds like he means it. Your rabbit heart speeds up when he strokes your collarbone with his thumb. A heady feeling consumes you and you force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“Look at me,” he demands, grabbing your chin again. He crowds your space, not leaving you any room to breathe. Your gut aches from sudden heat.

“God made you for me. Don’t you know that?”

Your mind goes blank as you nod slowly. He looks at you like he’s starved. No one’s ever looked at you like that before. No one has ever really looked at you before him.

“I’m— I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper.

He caresses your cheek, his breath tickling your jaw as he leans in.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand what it’s like to feel a little stir-crazy. I’ll take you out more often, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

He grins and it comes off as sardonic.

“Such a spoiled girl. Only the very best for my girl, hm? I clothe her, feed her, make her stronger. And what do I get in return?” he scolds, thumb swiping over your quivering bottom lip. “She tries to run away from me.”

“I’m not,” you pout.

“You’re not?” he scoffs.

You don’t know what to do other than apologize. You were weak like that.

“You’re so good,” he sighs. “And you want to keep being good, is that right?”

“Yes,” you mumble.

You shiver again when he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand undoing the ties of your yukata. You sharply inhale at the cool air hitting in your nipples, the rest of you trembling at the prospect of being so bare in front of him. God or prophet, you didn’t know. All that you know now is that there was no coming back from this.

“My good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “My best girl.”

You whimper when you feel his tongue on your jaw. His kisses are tantalizingly slow. Teasing. He marvels at the flutter of your lashes in response to his touch.

He had tried to deny those feelings in the beginning, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He feels as though he’s created you. He liked you delicate, lace winged. A butterfly caught in a jar.

Suguru thinks this is fair. He has always believed in fairness, and although one might argue that his philosophy is a direct contradiction to that, he could beg to differ. Different people had different values, that was all. You just happened to have an advantage in the hierarchy he holds in his head. A precious thing, his treasure.

When he turned his back on Jujutsu society by becoming a curse user, he would avenge the suffering of the sorcerers around him. Years of adapting to the taste of shit and vomit would eventually earn him something that made it all worth it. He’s convinced that something was you.

He was your savior, therefore you were his blessing. It was only fair that he could take you the way he wanted. You were meant to be found by him. You were meant to be kept.

You barely put up a fight.

You whimper when he parts your legs with his hands and finds you embarrassingly wet. Every stroke of his hands on your inner thigh has you twitching involuntarily.

“Oh,” he coos. “Look at that.”

You look away in shame, trying to close your legs, but he forces them open with a bruising grip. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“What’s wrong, baby? You want to be good for me, right?”

You nod without a word, trying to control your breathing. Your brain is telling you that you want this — you’d wanted to be his from the moment you saw him. Your body tells you the same, but dread creeps up your spine.

You gasp when he grazes your clit with his fingers. He plays with it, stares at your cunt through your underwear like it’s a prize.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid. I’m the only person in this world you can trust.”

He slips your panties off easily and you wince at the sound of your wetness sticking to the fabric. He applies more pressure to your bud, distracting you with his mouth on yours. You mewl into his mouth without realizing and he grins against your lips, slipping his tongue inside.

When you feel a finger push into your walls, you convulse in surprise, though you don’t pull away like he expects. You merely clutch him harder, your hands wrinkling the sleeve of his haori.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he rasps. “No one’s been here before, is that right? Just me?”

He groans when you look at him with innocent eyes and nod meekly. Of course he would be your first. You were nothing but a wounded dog when he found you, barely had a life of your own before he took you. You were pure and the world was keeping you for him. It was meant to be.

“S-Suguru…” you breathe. He’s pulled you into his lap now, your cunt getting his kimono wet. The slick of your cunt around his finger is enough to make blood rush to his cock.

“So pretty,” he mumbles. In one fell swoop, he takes you in his arms and carries you to the futon. You squeak in surprise at being lifted off the floor so quickly and so easily.

He takes the pause in his actions to undress himself, slipping off his robes, and when you see the thickness of his length prodding against his toned stomach, your mouth goes dry.

“C’mere,” he beckons. You obey.

He kisses you sweetly on your mouth and then down your jaw, squeezing your breasts. Your breath hitches as he takes the time to rub his thumb over your nipples. Suddenly, his teeth graze your chest. Biting, tasting. Forbidden fruit.

You let out a quiet moan and he chuckles. “So sensitive.”

Without a warning, he plunges two fingers into your cunt and you nearly cry out. There’s a choked noise, something in between pleasure and resignation. It’s all too much. When he adds a third finger and feels much less resistance, he laughs.

“Taking me so well. You’re doing so good,” he encourages before lapping at your chest again. When his fingers curl at just the right angle, your vision starts to get fuzzy. His thumb on your clit only intensifies the feeling.

“I c-can’t—”

“Hm? Use your words.”

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

His movements still and you nearly scream. He pulls back to see tears brimming your eyes and he kisses them away gently despite his cruel smirk.

“Nonono, please—”

“Please what?” He feigns innocence.

You bite your lip, your face too hot to feel comfortable expressing what you want. You feel the ghost of your curse wrap around your throat again. Once again, you find that the ticket to salvation has silky black hair and snake eyes. The artillery of a fallen angel disguised as something pure.

He can tell you’re frustrated but too afraid to voice it. You’re as pliable as he knew you would be. Endlessly easy to coax a reaction from.

“Do you expect everything to be handed to you? Just because you’re mine?” he taunts.

His. His. His.

You shake your head, whimpering.

“Then ask nicely, baby.”

Your cunt is on fire even though he isn’t touching you. When he strokes your lip and pushes his thumb into your mouth, you let him. Your tongue tickles his fingertip.

“Ah, so you still have a tongue. You can still speak.”

He laughs when you pout.

“Please touch me,” you say, your voice as quiet as a breeze.

“What was that?” He grins even wider.

“Pleasetouchme,” you whimper, your voice light as air.“Please… please make me cum.”

“Good girl,” he chuckles, licking into your mouth. His fingers fuck you in earnest now. You feel so full that your eyes roll back. It’s cute.

Poor thing. Suguru is a patient man, but he’s not sure if he has it in him to wait. He could make you cum three more times so that you’re truly ready for him, but he doesn’t want to. He supposes that if he breaks you, you’ll thank him anyway. No one else wants you more than him, you had to understand that.

His cock throbs at the sight of you coming undone. It’s nearly animalistic, like provoking violence from weak prey. Cataclysmic like a falling star. He’s consumed with it, with the fact that he can do this to you and no one else can.

He fingers you through the aftershocks, too, until you sob loud enough that his other hand has to cover your mouth. You squirm underneath him, shaking your head in desperation.

He admires the slick of sweat on your chest, your glowing figure. When he releases you, he thinks briefly that you’re on the verge of passing out. But you tremble, rapidly breathing, eyes unfocused as your lashes flutter.

Suguru licks you off of his fingers and you stare in horror, returning to yourself. It makes him giddy, how even your spirit is infinitesimal.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs. He kisses you roughly, tongue prying your mouth open and making you moan. “See? Sweet. You’re perfect.”

He likes seeing you all flushed. Glaze on your cheekbones. He thinks he should make you his wife, memorialize your fucked out form with a commissioned painting and hang it above his bed. A good luck charm among the talismans. You look too good to ruin with his cock, but he knows he’d already taken all of you anyway.

He’ll put you back together after. Pamper you with yuzu slices in a hot bath. Play the part of a boyfriend instead of a master.

He pins you down even though he doesn’t need to. You let him settle in between your thighs, his aching cock slapping against your stomach.

“So cute when you’re scared,” he chuckles at the look on your face.

“It’s… big,” you say meekly.

“It’ll fit. It won’t be so bad, yeah? I changed my mind about punishing you for trying to run away.”

Panic paints your features.

“I wasn’t trying to run away! I promise.” Your lip quivers again. Maybe he should make you beg.

“Is that right?” He leans in, precum spreading on the skin above your cunt, tip grazing your clit just slightly. You bite your tongue so you don’t moan from the sensitivity.

“Yes. I want to stay.”

“And why’s that?” he jeers.

“Because— because you’ve given me everything.”

He waits for you to elaborate.

“Because I’m yours. I’m… your good girl,” you slur through tears, voice above a whisper.

“Poor baby,” he hums. “Of course you are. Always will be.” Whether you like it or not.

You moan at the same time he prods his tip inside. When he sinks in even further, right to the hilt, he becomes delirious with need. It takes everything in him to not pound into you recklessly.

“Pretty fucking cunt,” he groans. “So warm.”

More hot tears, but your dread is replaced with rapture. He fills you up, already poking at the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your body ripples with pleasure as he moves and digs into your guts, an ocean of tender heat.

It’s a branding. You don’t exist if it isn’t for him.

“Suguru,” you moan.

He kisses your neck, teeth hard on your flesh. Pulling it taut while his tongue rolls in it and leaves mouth-shaped blessings.

His hips drive into you with more force, cock reaching places that your fingers could never reach. You shut your eyes and phosphenes float through the static of blackness. They linger when you open them again, Suguru’s face illuminating in grainy color.

It takes you a bit to realize his mutters, the way he’s babbling through moans.

Good fucking girl. All mine forever. I’ll die with you.

You let out a pitched moan as Suguru wraps his fingers around your throat. Every part of your body feels like it’s bursting. You cum like that, your walls outstretched by his thickness carving you out in the shape of him.

“Take it,” he grunts. “Take my cock. Fuck, I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

He’ll probably obsess over your cunt for ages. The face you make when you’re being used. Your ragdoll body.

His bun had come undone. Even if his cock wasn’t in you, your stomach would ache from how beautiful he looked. Eyes focused on you, nearly deranged at the way he was blistering you raw. The cascade of tears down your cheeks. It made him impossibly hard.

He pulls out quickly to flip you onto your stomach so he can rut into you from behind. The angle makes it so that his cock is even deeper.

“Oh, Suguru—”

“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again?”

You whine, all high-pitched and girlish.

“Tell me you’re mine. That you’ll never leave me,” he grunts.

“I’m yours,” you hiccup. “I’ll n-never leave you.”

Your cunt was starting to burn, even with how wet you were. Suguru cums with a rough thrust at your words, nose buried in between the lovebirds littering your shoulder. You’re full of him. He doesn’t stop, his dick still hard inside you.

“Shit,” he hisses, looking down to see his cum oozing out of your pussy, all mixed up in your arousal. “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He grits his teeth when he feels you squeeze around him. You can barely form words now, crying as you can feel yourself about to cum again.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Cum for me, princess. Cum on that cock for me.”

You’re twitchier this time. Your moan tapers off into squeals as you bury your tear-stained face into the pillow. He follows after you with a gasp, his large body covering you like a cocoon.

He kisses the nape of your neck. Between your shoulder blades. His cock stills inside you, but he doesn’t pull out until he softens completely. When you stop shaking, he turns you over.

“There’s my angel,” he says fondly. “Thought you passed out on me.”

You shake your head. He smiles lazily, leaning to kiss you all over your face.

Your bones feel like jelly, but you still switch your positions with intent, and to your surprise, he lets you. Naked and breathing heavily above him, you examine him with his hair spread out on the pillow, cheeks flushed and cherubic. He almost looks innocent.

He groans at the way your leaking cunt grinds on his crotch, prompting him to get half-hard already. He grabs your hips at the same time you grab the base of his throat. He laughs.

“Do you feel powerful?”

You blink twice and your eyes glaze over.

In your vision, you see Suguru’s face flashing you his usual grin, this time showing all his teeth as blood drips from his chin. When you look down at your hands, they’re saturated in the same red. He kisses you despite it all and you understand.

“Yes,” you breathe. “I do.”

#geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #ree.writing

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kayewrite · 5 months ago

Text

blue sticky note (part 2)

OT8 x reader!! stray kids x reader!! word count: 5.9k

stray kids fic wherein, you know the answer of the mystery of the blue sticky note in your binder, but then keep denying it.

AN: i literally love this guys. please tell me your thoughts also im crying.

(part 1 here!!)

Does Bang Chan like you?

Why did he create a song for you?

Your mind raced as you held the blue sticky note, staring at the familiar handwriting that had been haunting your thoughts for days. You replayed the moment when you confronted him, hoping for a straightforward answer.

“Are you the one who put this in my binder?” you had carefully asked, showing him the sticky note that had left you sleepless for nights.

Bang Chan didn’t answer right away. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something deeper in his gaze. But instead of responding to your question, he gave you a gentle smile, one that made your heart skip a beat.

“Did you know we all made this song?” he said, his voice calm, almost as if he was leading you from the truth you were seeking. “We all helped to do this.”

His words left you more confused than before. What did that even mean? Was it some kind of cryptic message?

“You know what,” he suddenly said, his tone shifting to something more casual, “you should really attend Changbin’s party this weekend. I’ll be the one to pick you up.”

And just like that, he left the studio without waiting for your reply, leaving you standing there with a thousand questions swirling in your mind. The mystery you thought you were close to solving only seemed to deepen, the answers slipping further from your grasp.

You tried to focus on your upcoming presentation in class, but Bang Chan's words and that blue sticky note kept intruding on your thoughts. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you wondered why this was all becoming so hard to figure out.

Suddenly, a knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it to find Felix standing there, a soft smile on his face as he greeted you.

“Hi,” he said, holding his favorite yellow plushie—a chicken. “I’m back again.”

You let him in, and without a word, he walked in and instead of heading to the sofa like usual, he went straight to your bedroom and flopped down on your bed..

You followed him, sitting at the edge of the bed as you pulled the blanket over him. You felt a pang of sympathy for your friend. He always seemed so worn out whenever you saw him in the mornings at school, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. You knew it must be because of his noisy neighbor.

“I think my neighbor is angry with me,” Felix mumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow.

“Why?” you asked, your voice gentle.

“He only makes noise whenever I’m about to sleep.”

“Maybe we should complain to the landlord,” you suggested, but you knew Felix. He was too kind-hearted to make a fuss about it. He’d rather suffer in silence than cause trouble for someone else.

"I’ve decided I should move out here," he said quietly.

"Really? Finally," you replied, a bit of relief in your voice. You’d wanted someone to share your apartment with for so long. Living alone had become so lonely.

"But I’ll be moving next door," he added.

Oh. That was fine too.

You couldn’t help but smile as you lay down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. The silence was comfortable, but your thoughts were still tangled up in the mystery of the blue note.

“I think I should talk to someone about this,” you finally said, breaking the silence. The questions were too much for you to keep inside anymore.

“Talk about what?” Felix asked, his voice calm but curious.

“The blue note…” you began, turning your head to look at him. “Do you know who owns it?”

Felix took a deep breath, clearly expecting this conversation. He didn’t answer right away, instead asking, “May I ask you a question? Who do you think owns it?”

“I don’t want to assume anything,” you admitted, “You guys are giving me a hard time. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Felix’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “What would you do if you found out who owned it? Would it change things between you and us?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I see all of you as my brothers. But if it really was one of you… then…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the thought.

“What if it was all of us?” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“What—” Before you could react, Felix leaned in and pecked your lips, the suddenness of it leaving you frozen.

“Do you know how hard it is?” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. “Loving you means risking our whole friendship. But as long as I could hold it in, I thought I should. But right now, I can’t.”

His confession hung in the air between you, heavy and filled with emotion. He searched your eyes for a reaction, his heart clearly on the line.

“Please,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly, “when tomorrow comes, forget what I did. And I hope… you’ll forgive me.”

And then, before you could process everything, he claimed your lips again, this time with more urgency, as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

The next morning, you walked to class feeling like you were floating. Felix was already gone when you woke up, leaving behind only a note saying he had to go.

The memory of last night's kiss made your cheeks flush as you touched your lips, but you quickly shook the thought away.

Why does this feel so wrong?

You've been friends with these guys since middle school, and now, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

You slumped into your seat next to Yuji, dropping your head onto your table.

“Girl, you look stressed,” she said, combing her fingers through your hair.

“I know. I think I should just die.”

“No, not yet! We still have that concert to go to, remember? Physics might make you want to drop dead, but focus on the bright side—concert!” Yuji playfully shook your shoulders.

“What concert? Why didn’t you invite me?” Seungmin’s voice interrupted as he approached, handing out papers.

"Oh! it's seungmin." Yuji immediately straightened up, trying to play it cool. “I have two tickets. One for me, and one for her.” She pointed at you with an exaggerated modesty. “But she can always buy new her own, so I’ll give you hers.” She smiled sweetly at Seungmin like a puppy.

Seungmin didn’t even look up as he continued distributing papers. “Never mind. I’ve got plans with her, anyway.”

You blinked, confused. Plans? He hadn’t mentioned anything to you.

“What plans?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s a surprise.” He finally looked up, flashing a small, knowing smile before moving on to the next student.

Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, is there something going on between you two?” she asked, crossing her arms and pouting. “You betrayed me?! I thought you were on Team Seungmin and Yuji!”

You barely registered her words, your mind suddenly flashing back to what Felix said last night.

“What if it was all of us?”

Was there a chance that Seungmin… liked you? Or were they all just playing with your feelings?

The stress of it all made you tug at your hair in frustration. But then you remembered Felix’s kiss, making you feel even more confused.

After class, you were about to leave when Seungmin called out to you.

“Hey,” he said, jogging over. “Let me treat you to the cafeteria.”

Normally, you’d jump at the chance for free food—who wouldn’t? This was just how you and Seungmin usually were. But after everything that happened, you found yourself questioning his intentions.

Still, you plastered on a smile and nodded. “Sure.”

As you both sat down, Seungmin played with his spoon, eyeing his food. “Do you think short hair would suit me?” He ran a hand through his hair, “I’m thinking about getting a haircut.”

You looked at him, trying to picture it. “Honestly? I think everything suits you.”

“Oh really?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if it turns out ugly, I’m blaming you.”

“It won’t,” you assured him. “Promise. Trust me, just imagining it, I think it’ll look great on you. And why would you blame me? I’m not the one asking you to cut it; I already think it’s perfect.”

You forced yourself not to think about what Felix said, focusing on keeping the conversation light and normal, just like always.

“Hey, why are you two eating alone without me?” Changbin suddenly appeared, sliding his tray onto the table like some kind of cool bad boy—though you knew he was a softie at heart.

“Because according to Seungmin, you eat too much,” you teased, even though Seungmin hadn’t actually said that. Changbin shot Seungmin a playful glare, his expression saying, ‘How dare you?’

“Why? It’s true,” Seungmin teased back with a casual shrug.

“Well, it is,” Changbin admitted with a grin. “But do you really think you can get away without buying me food? I put it on your tab at the cashier.”

You laughed, enjoying their playful banter. This is what you wanted to keep, this easy friendship with them. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Hey, don’t laugh! You owe me, too!” Changbin suddenly turned his attention to you.

“What? I don’t remember owing you anything. If anything, you owe me,” you shot back, munching on your food.

“Well, you’re right about that.” He chuckled, then leaned in closer, his tone turning serious. “But you owe me a promise. You have to come to my party. And you too.” referring to Seungmin.

“Tell me why I should attend instead of going to my weekly seminar,” Seungmin challenged, always enjoying a good tease.

“There’ll be lots of food.”

“Valid, but not enough,” Seungmin replied, feigning disinterest.

“I’ll be there,” Changbin said. Seungmin just rolled his eyes before standing up.

“I’m done eating,” he said, grabbing his tray. Then he looked at you, “Finish your food and eat well. I’ll go ahead.”

“What happened to you?” Hyunjin asked, concern etched on his face as he glanced over at you.

You were lying on one of the beds in the school clinic, feeling utterly drained. “I think I’m coming down with a fever. Can you give me some medicine?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar sigh escaping his lips. “Again? Don’t tell me you’re pulling that trick to avoid PE.”

It was Wednesday, and Hyunjin was on clinic duty again. It seemed like every time he was here, you somehow managed to find your way to the clinic as well.

“I just really dislike playing volleyball,” you complained, curling up under the blanket.

“You know it’s part of the curriculum,” Hyunjin said firmly, reaching out to help you sit up. “Now, get up and get moving.”

But you stayed put. “I’m serious this time. My head is pounding.” You pressed your fingers against your temples, trying to relieve the discomfort.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, though he still looked slightly exasperated. “Alright, alright. Just stay here.” He walked over to the medicine cabinet, opening it and rummaging through the various bottles.

You watched him, admiring how he looked in his white lab coat. He seemed so professional and competent, and it made you smile despite your discomfort.

After a moment, Hyunjin returned with a small bottle in hand. “Here, take this.”

You examined the label. “Gummy vitamins? Really?”

Hyunjin grinned. “Yep, gummy medicine. It’s actually quite effective.”

“But… isn’t this for kids?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re never too old for gummy vitamins,” Hyunjin said with a teasing smirk. He leaned closer and playfully tapped your forehead. “And besides, you’re basically a kid.”

“Ouch!” you said, rubbing your forehead as you accepted the bottle. You popped a gummy into your mouth, making a face as you chewed. The taste was oddly medicinal, and you struggled to hide your reaction.

Hyunjin chuckled, his laughter bright and genuine. “You look like you’re eating something terrible.”

“It’s not as good as the regular gummies,” you said, grimacing slightly. “But I guess it’ll do.”

Hyunjin shook his head, his smile softening. “You really need someone to take care of you. I swear, you can’t even handle a gummy without making a face.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” you insisted, stretching your arms out as if to demonstrate your health. “Look, I’m perfectly okay.”

“Yeah, right,” Hyunjin said, sitting down on the chair next to you. “But even if you can take care of yourself, you don’t need to do it alone. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here to look out for you.”

His words were meant to be comforting, and they were—though they took on a new weight as you recalled what Bang Chan and Felix had said. It suddenly seemed like there might be a deeper layer to Hyunjin’s concern.

You pushed those thoughts aside, forcing a smile. “I’m really glad to have you guys around. It means a lot.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he returned your smile. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, try to get some rest. You need it.”

“Hey, Han,” you called out as you entered the library, spotting your friend among the sea of students hunched over their books. Probably finished of his schedule in the counter as a librarian assistant.

“Oh, hi!” Han looked up from his desk, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. His eyes were bright with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. You often wondered how he managed to juggle work, study, and his other responsibilities so effortlessly.

“I finally finished that novel you recommended,” you said, making your way over to his table. “..And it was so boring.”

Han’s eyes widened in mock horror, his hands flying to his chest. “What? Don't do that to my most favorite book!"

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction. “Just kidding. It was actually really good.” You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice low but full of mirth, mindful of the quiet atmosphere in the library.

Han let out a relieved sigh and shook his head with a smile. “You almost had me there. What did you think of the ending?”

You shrugged, a hint of frustration in your tone. “I’m still confused. How can the main character like her but never pursue her? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Han’s face took on a look of mild exasperation as he leaned back in his chair. “Did you read it with your whole heart, or were you skimming through it?”

“Of course I read it!” you protested, feeling a bit defensive. “I just didn’t get it.”

Han’s expression softened into a more thoughtful one. “Well, sometimes love isn’t as straightforward as we want it to be. The character had reasons for not pursuing her, even though he wanted to.”

“What reasons?” you asked, genuinely intrigued. You leaned forward, eager for an explanation.

Han sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, can't believe he has to explain it to you. “It’s not always easy to explain. Sometimes, there are external factors, personal struggles, or circumstances beyond our control that affect our decisions.”

“Oh, I see,” you said slowly, trying to digest his explanation. “I still think the ending was a bit of a letdown, though.”

"Me too." Han chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it’s definitely not the happiest of endings. But that’s what makes it memorable, I guess.”

“So, why is it your favorite if it’s so depressing?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Han hesitated, a thoughtful look on his face as he stared into the distance. “Because…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, leaving you hanging. You could guess what he might mean, understanding more than you let on. Sometimes it was easier to pretend you didn’t get it than to face the deeper implications of his words.

“Why would you need another cat when you already have three?” you asked, following Minho around the animal shelter. The space was filled with the soft meows and playful purrs of the cats, and you tried to keep up with his purposeful stride.

“Having one more won’t make me poor,” Minho replied, his gaze fixed intently on the cats. He seemed completely absorbed in the task of finding the perfect feline companion, his focus unwavering.

You chuckled softly, “Based on your face, you don’t look like someone who’s a father to a bunch of cats.” well he does look like a cat but you'll never tell him that, it might boost his overflowing confidence

“I don’t take opinions from anyone who’s trailing behind me,” Minho said with a smirk, still not turning to look at you.

“Oh, so you brought me here just to hear my complaints?” you sighed dramatically, trailing behind him. The endless walking was starting to wear you out, and you couldn’t help but think about the stack of assignments waiting for you at home.

Suddenly, Minho stopped in front of a white cat who was sitting calmly, watching him with wide, curious eyes. Minho crouched down and began speaking to the cat in a soft, melodic tone that seemed to mimic the cat’s own meows.

“I think I already found it,” Minho said with a satisfied smile, glancing up at you.

Back at the shelter’s counter, Minho was busy with the paperwork, preparing for the adoption. You watched him efficiently handle the forms and place the cat into its carrier. As he completed the final details, he turned to you with a beaming expression.

“Let’s go,” he said cheerfully.

You both headed to his car. Once inside, you buckled up, only for Minho to place the cat carrier on your lap. You opened it gently, letting the cat come out and stretch. Its beautiful white fur was soft and silky under your touch.

“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking the cat’s fur as she nuzzled closer to you.

“I don’t know,” Minho said, adjusting his seatbelt. “Why don’t you name her?”

"why would I be the one to do that?" you protested,

“Then, I’ll just name her after you,” Minho teased, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oh no, don’t do that,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Right? She seems to like it.” Minho chuckled as the cat responded positively to being called by your name. “She’s our daughter now.”

You felt a flutter of surprise at his words, but you tried to keep your emotions in check.

“Well, now you’re officially the baby of our friend group,” you said, hugging the cat gently. The little creature purred contentedly in your arms, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome to the family.”

You were about to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from Jeongin. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you fixed your hair a bit and answered.

"Hey, what's up?" you greeted, trying to sound awake as you adjusted the phone to make sure you looked presentable.

"Hey!" Jeongin's cheerful voice came through, though his face was momentarily obscured as he set the phone down. The background of his room appeared on screen: a collection of action figures and band posters. He returned, holding his guitar. "Got a minute? I have a performance evaluation tomorrow, and I was hoping you could listen to my song and give me some feedback."

"Of course," you replied, leaning back against your headboard. "Why me though? You have plenty of musician friends who could help."

Jeongin laughed softly, adjusting the tune on his guitar. "Well, I think I’ll get the most honest comments from you. Han just tells me I sound like bread—whatever that means—and Changbin mostly just laughs at me."

You smiled at his playful tone. "Alright, hit me with it."

With a nod, Jeongin began to strum his guitar and sing. His voice filled the room with a soothing melody, performing Day6's "Afraid." His rendition was as captivating as always.

When he finished, you sighed in appreciation. "That was beautiful. Seriously, the song fits your voice perfectly."

“Really?” Jeongin’s face brightened with a hopeful smile.

You nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up. “Absolutely. You did an amazing job.”

Jeongin chuckled. “The truth is, that wasn’t the song I intended to perform,” he admitted with a playful grin. “but i hope you enjoy that song. It's for you.”

You laughed softly, feeling grateful for the unexpected late-night serenade. “I did. Thanks for sharing it with me.”

You enter Bang Chan’s studio, balancing a coffee cup in one hand. The studio is buzzing with activity, but Chan looks up with a smile as you walk in.

“Hey, thanks for the coffee!” Chan says, taking the cup from you with a grateful grin.

“No problem. I figured you’d need it. I’ve heard you’re practically living here these days,” you tease, slipping into the casual banter you’re used to with him.

“Yeah, it’s the price of fame,” Chan chuckles, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie. “I’m basically a coffee addict now.”

“You’ve always been one. Remember that time you tried to make your own coffee blend and nearly set off the fire alarm?”

Chan laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I’m still convinced it was a conspiracy by the coffee machine.”

You laugh along, feeling a comfortable ease in the familiar exchange. “So, are you busy today? Or can you spare a few minutes?”

“Earlier, I was buried in work, but now I’m taking a break. What’s up?” Chan asks, settling into his chair.

You nod, setting your coffee down on a nearby table. “I actually came to talk. And, well, I left my glasses here the other day.”

Chan raises an eyebrow playfully. “So it’s a dual-purpose visit: coffee delivery and a retrieval mission?”

“Exactly. I’m multitasking,” you reply with a wink.

“Impressive. I’d expect nothing less from you,” Chan says, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, what’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, shifting your focus from the lightheartedness to a more serious tone. “You know, Chan, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About everything that’s been happening with us.”

Chan’s expression shifts to a more serious one, sensing the change in tone. “Go on.”

“You know I’m always proud of you and everything you’ve achieved,” you begin, your voice softening. “And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But lately, I’ve been worried. I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have.”

Chan looks at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I just hoped that everything you’ve said, and everything I thought, is wrong,” you continue. “I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with you guys.”

Chan’s smile is gentle but sad. “You know, now that everyone likes you?”

You look down, fiddling with your coffee cup. “Well, I hope it’s because you all care for me as a friend and not something more.”

Chan’s eyes are filled with a warmth that both comforts and troubles you. “You’ve always been special to us. And we’re okay if you have to choose one of us. We promise it won’t ruin anything.”

“I don’t want to choose any of you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re all special to me.”

It was Changbin's birthday, and you were carefully wrapping the gift you had bought for him—a watch. You knew it wasn’t as extravagant as the ones he usually wore, but it was thoughtful and sincere, a gesture from a poor uni student to a friend who seemed to have everything. Still, you hoped he would appreciate the sentiment.

A knock on your door startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. You were expecting Chan, who had offered to pick you up for the party, so you hurried to answer the door.

But it wasn’t Chan.

“Hey.” Felix stood there, a small, familiar smile on his lips. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, especially after everything that had happened between you two in the past few days. You had promised yourself to forget about it, to push those feelings away, but seeing him now made it all come rushing back.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Felix greeted you, his voice as smooth as ever. He looked effortlessly handsome in his suit, his charm radiating as always.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You appreciated the compliment, but there was an undeniable awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. “You look great too.”

Felix chuckled softly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looked away. “I try,” he said, his tone light, but you could hear the underlying edge to it. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, grabbing your bag. “Chan’s waiting downstairs.”

Together, you walked down to the first floor, where Chan’s car was parked outside. He rolled down the window as you approached, flashing you both a bright smile. “Finally! I was about to start the party without you guys,” he joked.

“Wouldn’t be much of a party without the birthday gift,” you teased back, holding up the wrapped box.

Chan laughed, unlocking the doors. “Get in, then. Can’t have you showing up without it.”

In the car, the three of you quickly fell into easy conversation, laughing about inside jokes and reminiscing about old memories.

“So, what did you get Changbin?” Felix asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.

“It’s just a watch,” you said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nothing fancy.”

Felix shook his head. “It’s the thought that counts. He’ll love it.”

You smiled at his reassurance, but the heavy tension lingered, especially with Felix sitting so close to you. You could feel his presence, his warmth, but there was a wall between you—one neither of you seemed ready to address.

As the conversation continued, you found yourself getting lost in the sound of Chan’s voice, trying to push away the awkwardness. But no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the moment, you couldn’t shake the heaviness in the air.

Finally, you arrived at the party. The venue was stunning, elegant in every way. All your friends were already there, looking beautiful and sophisticated in their formal attire. As soon as you entered, they complimented you, making you feel like you belonged in that glamorous setting, even if you often doubted it yourself.

Yuji, who had also been invited, greeted you with a warm hug, her energy infectious. “You look amazing!” she gushed, her eyes wide with excitement as she took in the atmosphere. “This party is insane, right?”

“Yeah, it’s something else,” you agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. “You look great too, by the way.”

She grinned, doing a little twirl. “Thanks! I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

The party began, and you found yourself seated at a table with your friends. Minho, who had always been obvious about his feelings for you, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin whispered in your ear.

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jeongin didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he casually wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Just let me know if you need anything,”

You smiled gratefully at him, though the tension between the table was palpable, and you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze even more acutely.

Then there was Han, who had always been more subtle about his feelings. He had never made it obvious, but tonight, when the air began to cool, he quietly draped his coat over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so.

“Thanks, Han,” you said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“No problem,” he replied, his voice low and warm. “Can’t have you freezing out here.”

As the evening went on, the program began, and Seungmin took the stage to offer a song. His voice was beautiful, capturing everyone’s attention as he sang. But as he performed, your heart began to race. He kept looking at you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel both flustered and vulnerable.

Yuji, sitting nearby, was practically glowing with happiness. She leaned in close, whispering, “I think this song is for me!”

You forced a smile, unable to bring yourself to tell her otherwise. “Maybe,” you replied, but your heart knew better.

Hyunjin, ever perceptive, seemed to pick up on the tension in the air. He observed quietly, his sharp eyes darting between you and the others, before taking a long sip of his wine. “Quite the night, huh?” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Then, out of nowhere, Changbin appeared at your table. His face lit up when he saw you, and without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine joy.

You laughed softly, hugging him back. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Everyone at the table watched the interaction closely, some with smiles, others with unreadable expressions. But as you stood there, enveloped in Changbin’s embrace, a strange feeling crept into your chest.

And in that moment, you realized that perhaps it was better not to know. Ignorance, as they say, might be bliss.

As the night deepened, the more you wanted to go home. It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your friends—quite the opposite—but with the tension growing thicker by the minute, you’d rather be curled up under your blanket, away from the chaos.

You were about to take another sip of your wine when a hand gently stopped you.

"You should stop drinking. You shouldn't get drunk," Han said, his voice soft but firm. He took your glass and, without hesitation, drank it himself.

The loud music continued to play in the background, filling the air with a vibrant energy that contrasted sharply with the underlying tension. Everyone else was getting more and more absorbed in their drinks, except you—Han never let you have another sip.

"Hey, do you want me to sing a song on stage?" a voice asked, leaning close to you to be heard over the music. You turned to find Jeongin grinning at you.

You laughed, feeling a bit lighter in his presence. "Why would you ask for my permission? You should go up there and do what you want. I'm just here to support you."

Jeongin nodded, his smile growing wider. "That's the reason I like you." He stood up from his chair, leaving you momentarily stunned by his words.

As the seat beside you became vacant, Seungmin slipped into it, his presence bringing a different kind of tension. He smiled at you, his eyes soft and warm as he said, "You look beautiful tonight." Then, almost as if he couldn't stop himself, he added with a slightly slurred voice, "You know, I realized I should have kept you to myself."

You went quiet, not sure how to respond. Seungmin had been the reason you met all of his friends, the one who had introduced you into this complicated circle. Now, his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

He rested his hand on the back of your chair, and you let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off what he said by teasing him instead.

"Hey, Seungmin!" Felix called out, drawing everyone's attention. He smirked as he teased, "That song you sang earlier—it didn't sound like a birthday song at all. Are you sure you weren’t serenading Changbin?"

Seungmin, who was still looking at you, replied without missing a beat, "Well, it wasn't for him."

The tension at the table thickened, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Hyunjin, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Changbin, you were the one who put the note, right?”

It was the question you were asking, but then you suddenly don't want to know the answer now.

Changbin, who had been busy entertaining guests earlier and was visibly tired, looked up with a blank expression. “Yeah, that was me,” he admitted, his voice flat.

Minho scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. “That was weak, Changbin,” he remarked, his tone dripping with disdain.

You could sense the unease building, the tension wrapping around you like a vice. Jeongin returned, plopping down in the seat Seungmin had vacated, his carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the heaviness in the air. “The band didn’t want to let me sing,” Jeongin said with a laugh, though even he seemed to feel the strain. “I think Changbin didn’t let me.”

“Well, it’s true. I put it in there,” Changbin confessed again, this time with more emphasis. He looked at you, his gaze heavy, and you realized how exhausted you were by this whole ordeal.

Chan, ever the mature one, noticed the growing tension and tried to intervene, but before he could speak, Felix’s voice rang out. “I kissed her.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything that had been said all night. The atmosphere at the table grew unbearably thick, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Yuji had left earlier, and suddenly, you wished you had gone with her.

You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I… I need to go to the bathroom,” you muttered, not waiting for a response as you made your way through the crowd, your steps unsteady.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your heart pounding in your chest. This couldn’t go on. You had to do something before everything fell apart, before you lost the friendships that meant so much to you.

Determined, you took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be pulled into a dark corner. Before you could react, Minho’s lips were on yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with emotions you didn’t want to face. You pushed him away, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Minho, stop!” you cried, your voice breaking. Minho stepped back, his expression one of shock and regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to…”

Without another word, you turned and hurried back to the table, grabbing your bag as everyone’s eyes followed your every move. “I’m going home,” you announced, your voice steadier than you felt. Chan offered to drive you, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine.” You left before anyone could argue, the night air cold against your skin as you flagged down a taxi.

As the car sped away, tears streamed down your face, each one heavy with the realization you had been avoiding all night. You knew why you were crying, why you wanted to run away. Because deep down..

you already knew who you wanted to choose. But the thought of hurting the others, of breaking the delicate balance between you all, was too much to bear.

an: who do you want to choose?

@hpnsfwaddict @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @tonkatesuramen @spearbinnie0327 @leezanetheofficial @furioussheepluminary

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x oc #lee know x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #felix x reader #skz jeongin #skz #skz smut #skz imagines #seungmin

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hornyfor-redacted-onmain · 5 months ago

Text

You, Me & My Boyfriends

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 18 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Part

The JYP building felt like something out of a movie. Or a dream. Or both.

The hallways seemed never ending, all branching out from one main area and filled with doors on both ends. The small kitchen area near the elevators was nice, you had to admit. You were never far from a coffee machine, or a studio, or a small circular table with plastic chairs to sit in.

It was one of those notoriously uncomfortable chairs (seriously, the company was worth millions. They couldn’t get comfortable chairs?) that you currently find yourself anxiously shifting around on, trying to look normal. You weren’t doing a very good job, judging by the curious look a passing girl gave you as she made her way to the coffee machine, picking up a cup with perfectly manicured hands and swiping long glossy hair over her shoulder- holy shit! Was that Sana?

Sana, THE Sana from Twice, poured a cup of coffee as your phone vibrated noisily on the table in front of you. You frantically picked it up to quiet it, catching the idol’s eyes once again. She smiled at you in amusement, and you flushed.

Oh my god she was so pretty.

Felix Img.png

It took you an embarrassingly long time to focus on the image Felix had sent you long enough to realize it was a meme, and by that point the lounge/waiting area (you weren’t even sure what to call it) was once again empty. You wanted to bang your head against the table.

You checked the time once again, making sure that the 15 minutes Seungmin asked you to wait hadn’t passed by already.

Nope, only 9.

When the singer had asked you out on a date, you assumed it would be similar to your outing with HyunLix. He’d pick you up, you’d go do something, and then you’d head back to the apartment afterwards. But he was determined to take you out before any of the others, and with both Jeongin and Changbin fighting to have you on their next free day, he had to reschedule your plans.

That meant the very next day, apparently.

You had woken up to a cryptic message telling you to be ready by noon. It wasn’t until you were being picked up by a company car that Seungmin finally admitted he wanted to take you out to eat on his lunch break. He had an hour, and he asked you to be there just before he got off to make sure he was with you every possible second.

However, that did mean you had to wait until he was actually free. He said it would be 15 minutes.

You check your phone again with a sigh.

10 minutes had passed. 5 more to go.

This time you actually did let your head drop softly against the table. The sound of the elevator dinging made you quickly sit up straight, trying not to look at off as you felt.

The entire company building made your skin crawl. You weren’t sure if it was the overly formal language used by the staff members in the building, or the crisp white walls of those never-ending hallways, or just the perfect beauty radiating off every person you saw. You just didn’t fit in. It felt wrong for you to be there, like you were somehow contaminating the place.

“Excuse me. Are you waiting for someone?”

You froze, shifting your wide-eyed gaze slowly to the girl standing next to you. You hadn’t even noticed her approaching.

“Ah, yes!” You winced at how loud your voice had come out. “Sorry. I’m waiting for … a friend.”

“Oh. Who are you waiting for?”

You hesitated, not sure if you should even be talking about this. Chan had reassured you that the company had been made aware of your existence, and that you had access to the building if you needed it (you were given a guest id card and everything), but you were never told just how much the company knew. Were all the staff aware? Other idols? Just their managers?

“… Kim Seungmin,” You finally said.

You figured it would be fine. Seungmin surely had friends, right? It wasn’t like you had introduced yourself as his soulmate, or girlfriend.

The girl gave you a forced smile, nodded her head, and then made to follow the group of girls that had come of the elevator. When she reached her friends, she whispered something that made all of them laugh loudly, two of them even turning back to look at you with smirks on their faces.

Your stomach dropped.

God, you felt like a kid in high school, having just fumbled the bag with the popular girls. It was all kinds of wrong.

You couldn’t have been more relieved when Seungmin appeared, down to the minute. They must really take those lunch breaks seriously.

“What could be so important that it takes an entire day,” You wondered as the two of you got into the elevator.

“I’ve been recording an OST song,” Seungmin said, his lips pulling up into a pleased smile. “They wanted me to sing the song. They actually asked for me.”

“Seungmin!” You squeezed his arm. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s a little last minute, so I have to get the recording done today. That’s why I didn’t have a lot of time.”

“Oh, honey. We can reschedule this date for when you’re not busy. This is important!” You urged him, suddenly feeling guilty about pulling him away from such a great opportunity.

The doors to the elevator opened, and Seungmin pulled you out into the lobby without a care. “You’re important too. And don’t worry, I’ll take you out on a real date someday. We’ll go to dinner at some fancy restaurant, get all dressed up and make the others jealous.”

“Right, because that’s what really matters, doesn’t it,” You joked. “Making the other’s jealous.”

Seungmin faltered slightly. “Well, no. Of course not. It’s just … a bonus.”

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh. That’s why you’re taking me out on your very busy schedule, just so you can say you got to do it before the other’s. Right?”

The streets were getting crowded the further the two of you walked. For a second, you let go of his hand to walk behind him, making room for people walking in the opposite direction. As you turned down a street with less people and more room to breathe, you glanced at your soulmate.

Seungmin’s face mask prevented you from seeing whatever expression he was making, but you could tell that something was wrong. His forehead looked tight, his shoulders tense. You reached out to grab his hand again, but besides a quick glance at you, he didn’t seem to react.

You stopped completely, the motion causing him to be tugged back in your direction. Seungmin sighed.

“What’s wrong,” You asked him.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a laugh. “What?”

“You deserve better than a rushed date pulled together last minute. I just … I don’t know. I hated how everyone seemed to have a moment with you. Just … I don’t know. I wanted something that was just for us, something I could talk about when the others start to talk about you.”

“The others talk about me?” You wondered. Seungmin shot you a look, and you sighed. “Seungmin, honey. Have you ever thought that maybe you might be the one who’s jealous?”

“Maybe,” He murmured. “I just feel … yeah. Fuck. Maybe I am jealous.”

There was something more there, something that made you prod at him just a little further.

“I don’t think this is just about me, is it?” He shook his head. “Seungmin, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Remember how we talked about this, before? That if any of us had a problem, we needed to communicate? That’s the only way this thing is going to work.”

“I know. I just feel like-“ He took a deep breath, pulling you close by your still joined hands. “Sometimes I feel like we did all of this wrong. You moved halfway across the world to be with us, all because of this stupid soulmate bond, and yet we treat you like you’re an accomplishment. A goal. You were an idea all of us held, a hope we had, and I think we forget sometimes that the idea of you in our head isn’t the actual you.”

You felt yourself looking down in shame. As he began to talk, you found yourself realizing that you had been treating them much the same way. The idea of Stray Kids, the idea that you had in your head of who they were and who you wanted them to be, always seemed to be stronger than the men you actually knew.

The man in front of you right now, clouded by an idea.

You shook your head. “Maybe your right. But that doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. You’re still getting to know me, you know. And I’m still getting to know you. We have to figure this out at our own pace, you know. The whole soulmate bonds just … sped things up.”

“If I was actually trying to get to know you, I wouldn’t have taken you out today. I would have waited until I could actually spend time with you,” Seungmin pointed out.

“Yes, you would have,” You agreed. “So, you made a mistake. You let your jealousy guide you and rushed into something just for the chance to say you did it. It was stupid.”

Now it was Seungmin’s turn to hang his head in shame. You nudged his shoulder gently. “But who hasn’t made a stupid mistake? You realized what you did, at least. And I’m here now, so you might as well use the time to do something about it.”

“Like what?”

You pulled him forward. “Let’s go to the café. I’ll order something, and you can remember it for the next time I ask. And we can just sit down and talk. Not as a date. Just two people, getting to know each other.”

Seungmin squeezed your hand. “Isn’t it a little late for that? I mean, we’re not just two people. You’re my girlfriend.”

“And you’re my boyfriend,” I agreed. “No take backs.”

“Getting to know my girlfriend. Properly,” Seungmin laughed. “Okay. Still seems a little backwards.”

“I have 8 soulmates. This was never going to be normal,” You pointed out.

“You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

He shot you a smirk. “Right, okay. Not letting it get to your head, now, are you?”

“Never!”

The two of you laughed, walking down the street hand in hand.

-0-0-

You let out a sigh, carding your fingers through Jeongin’s hair. The maknae had fallen asleep on you when you came to visit the dorms earlier than evening. After your ‘not date’ with Seungmin, you decided to drop by and see what the other boys were up to.

Hyunjin had been painting, inviting you to join him, but your clothes were far too nice for you to risk getting paint on them, so you had given him a rain check. Chan and Changbin had gone to the gym, and Hyunjin had informed you that Jisung was in the other dorm, which is where you had headed next. You weren’t sure if Jisung actually was there, or what the other boys were doing, because Jeongin had stolen you the moment he had opened the door for you.

“I haven’t gotten to spend time with you since you got back. You’re mine now.”

And that’s where you found yourself, resting against the living room couches with Jeongin fast asleep with his head in your lap. There was a show playing on mute on the tv, but you weren’t paying attention.

That was how Felix found you when he came out of his room, beaming as he spotted the pair of you. “Hey, when did you get here?”

“’Bout an hour ago,” You mused. “I’ve been busy.”

“I can see,” He teased, leaning close to kiss you. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Anytime.”

Jisung and Minho were the next to emerge, both of them looking soft and cute with their messy hair and rumpled clothes. Judging by the red mark on Minho’s cheek, you guessed that they had been napping, and you smiled in amusement as Jisung spotted you. His eyes went wide, his hands immediately jumping up to his hair. He squeaked out your name in surprise.

You almost laughed when he turned around and ran back towards Minho’s room.

Minho himself didn’t seem bothered to be seen all messy. He leaned forward, just like Felix had, and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Hey. How was your date with Seungmin?”

“Our ‘not-date ‘was great. Thanks for asking.”

Minho mouthed the words ‘not-date’ in confusion, and you didn’t know the words in Korean, so you weren’t sure how to explain it to him, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he shrugged it off, sitting down on the armchair next to you.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your relaxing day out, because things are going to get hectic tonight.”

You raised your brows. “Oh?”

Jeongin grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like Mario Kart. It took you a second to realize that he actually had said Mario Kart, and that the hectic thing Minho was referring to was a competition.

Your grinned. “Oh, I’m going to smoke you guys.”

“Good luck!” Felix yelled from the kitchen. “I’m undefeated babe!”

“Not for long!” You yelled back.

“He lie,” Jeongin said in english, finally lifting his head up with his eyes still closed. His hair was adorably smushed on one side. “Felix is the worst.”

“Shut up Maknae-ah!”

You giggled, and the boys gave you fond looks that made your chest all warm and bubbly. You guessed it didn’t matter if there were any problems, or whatever the future decided to throw at you. You would get through it together, just like you always did.

-0-0-

Felix was actually a lot better at Mario Kart than you thought. But that didn’t change the fact that the little minx spent half of the game cheating. Distracting Changbin during his turn, ‘accidentally’ unplugging Chan’s controller, and even going as far as to pull you into his lap when it was your turn.

He kept his hands to himself, didn’t move you or try to sabotage you in any way, but just being able to feel his warmth at your back made it hard for you to concentrate. It was only because you were up against Jisung and Minho (who were targeting each other) and Minho (who was driving in the wrong direction – probably on purpose) that you managed to get 2nd place, only beaten by an unfortunate blue shell close to the end.

Even after handing off the controller to Felix behind you, you still felt nervous. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, but it felt good somehow. Even after going on a date and having the ever-loving life kissed out of you, it was the simple action of his arms wrapping around you and leaning his chin on your shoulder that gave you the worst case of butterflies ever.

Chan was giggling in his chair, smiling behind his hands as your feelings hit him too. You were glad the others were too busy yelling and arguing at the screen to notice.

-0-0-

Out of all the people to call dibs on getting to spend the night with you, you were somehow surprised and yet not surprised when Minho was the first to bring it up. He of course made his claim in the most gentlemanly way possible, asking you if he could spend the night, but you caught the looks some of the boys gave him.

He looked almost smug when you agreed.

“Don’t let him corrupt you,” Chan teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And at least try to get some sleep.”

You smacked his shoulder, and he weaseled his way back with a laugh. “Get your head out of the gutter you little shit.”

“Who knows, they might be a good influence on Minho-hyung,” Seungmin pointed out.

Minho flicked the singer on the forehead. “Watch it puppy.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Seungmin said, sticking his tongue out. Minho grinned, all teeth. It was such an odd sight that it had everyone taking a step back just out of habit. Seungmin shivered. “Never mind.”

The boys were either all getting ready to leave themselves, or in the case of the maknae’s, heading off to their beds. Hyunjin and 3rachas joined you and Minho in the elevator. Already growing tired, still not used to the time differences and the boy’s late schedules, you found yourself easily accepting Changbin’s hug as an excuse to rest your head against his shoulders. He was warm, and you felt safe in his hold. It was almost disappointing when the elevator reached their floor, and he had to let you go.

As the others started to leave, Jisung was still holding Minho’s hand. Chan was the first to notice the young rapper wasn’t following them.

He stopped at the elevator opening, preventing it from closing. “You coming, Hannie?”

Jisung gave him a devilish smile. “Nope!”

“Yah! That’s not fair!” Changbin yelled.

“And here I thought my boyfriend and I were going to have a nice relaxing night with each other,” You mused, exaggeratingly shaking your head. “But really, I’m just playing third wheel to Minsung. What a tragedy.”

“You can come sleep with me tonight,” Hyunjin offered, wagging his eyebrows at you.

“No.” It was all Minho said, but that, combined with the way he pushed Chan away from the doors, was all he needed to stake his claim.

Jisung reached out and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling boy you and Minho closer until he was squished in between the two of you. He grinned. “I think I’m the real winner here.”

You snorted hard enough that it hurt your throat. “First sneaking in with me and Chan, and now you want to join in on me and Minho. I’m starting to think you’re trying to steal me away.”

Jisung hummed. He let go of Minho, just as the elevator beeped to tell you that you have arrived to your floor. You didn’t expect him to suddenly pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and you let out a squeal. You felt a hand slap against your ass.

“You’re going to wake the neighbors up, Jagi,” Minho said.

As Jisung spun around and began to walk towards your door, you did your best to flip off Minho. He just smirked. You offered your key when asked, mostly because you wouldn’t put it past them to try and get it out of your pockets themselves.

Your apartment was small enough that it only took a few steps in before Jisung reached your bed, leaning over so that he could place you down gently, and you reached up to grab his shoulders and prevent him from pulling away. He giggled.

Minho closed your front door, flipping the lights on so that the three of you could see. Jisung allowed you to pull him down next to you, and you didn’t even care that you were both still wearing your shoes or that his elbow was pressing against your ribs, because you were still buzzing from the great day spent with your great boyfriends.

It felt almost unreal to still call them that.

“You two better not fall asleep like that,” Minho warned you, having taken the time to remove his shoes, and now unbuttoning his pants.

You closed your eyes out of habit. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m not going to sleep in jeans. They’re uncomfortable,” He told you, almost like it was obvious.

Jisung smiled against your collarbone. “I think you’re embarrassing them.” He lifted his head slightly. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Shut up,” You snapped back.

After a moment of thinking, you leaned back onto your back and began to unbutton your own pants, shimming them down your legs. Jisung inhaled deeply next to you, his own eyes wide and darting down your body and then back up in panic.

You grinned. “What’s the matter Sungie? Embarrassed?”

His eyes narrowed.

It was almost a competition between the three of you. Or, well, the two of you, really.

Minho had disappeared into your bathroom, and you could hear the sound of him brushing his teeth as you and Jisung finally got rid of your shoes and began to undress. But you felt like you had a significant advantage over your boyfriend, judging by the way his eyes lingered on your body.

Not planning on sleeping in just your underwear, you did actually end up throwing on a soft shirt you had been using for years, perfect for sleeping in. You and Jisung then joined Minho in the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed, and while it was tight enough that the three of you had to be careful not to elbow the other’s as you moved around, it still managed to fit you all just fine.

Getting under the covers, finally ready to sleep, allowed any remaining tension in your body to float away. You let out a soft sigh.

“Sweet dreams,” Jisung muttered from behind you, wrapping his arms around your stomach like a cocoon.

From his other side, Minho’s hands just barely managed to wrap around your arm, giving it a soft squeeze. “Good night.”

You smiled. “Good night.”

You fell asleep quickly after that.

_o-o_o-o_o-o_o-o_o-o_o-o_

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