#I think these are getting longer... send help....
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luveline · 2 days ago
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shy!reader and spencer who are in the early days of their relationship and are getting more comfortable with initiating physical affection with each other (especially reader lol) and spencer gets her to open up by playing with her hair / hands, tickling her, cuddling, the like <3
The first time Spencer let his head rest against yours, you were sure you’d die right there and then, half-asleep on the subway, then suddenly away as he’d started talking under his breath, his conversation for you and you alone. You'd flushed full body and forced yourself to stay still, until Spencer had confused your shyness for not wanting his weight against you and pulled away. 
This time you’re ready. This time, he’s working his arm over the top of your shoulders. Not a timid first move on the first date, he’d suffered through that already. Spencer lets his arm slip between your back and the couch as he tugs you toward him, resting his cheek against your temple, two points of skin turning hot as a burner. 
“Okay?” he asks quietly. 
You let yourself relax into it. “I’m fine.” 
“Did you want me to run that bath for you?” 
It’s imperative he doesn’t move. “No, I can do it. I’ll do it later, if that’s okay.” 
It’s Spencer’s bath, but he let you take one the last time you stayed the night, so you’ll work it out. You knew he wasn’t gonna peep on you, knew you were totally safe in his bathroom, but your heart hammered fast as a hummingbird’s whenever the floors creaked —just the idea of being near him when you were unclothed set you aflame. Your skin warms with the memory, a nervousness in your chest and hands that grows uncomfortably warm. 
You don’t move, though. You’re sending him all the wrong messages when you reject him out of timidity, you’re more than aware of it, but the longer he sits there gently holding you, the more the temptation to squirm builds. 
Spencer makes a soft, soft sound as his hand trails up your back, curling around your arm, and meandering a path to your elbow. 
“I got…” —Spencer begins, without any inclination to rush— “…more of that bath soak you liked, the camomile… and honey…”
You love the smell. Sometimes you swear you can smell it in his hair when he presses near you. 
“And a loufa, ‘cos you didn’t have one last time,” he adds. 
“Thank you.” 
“…You’re welcome.” He kisses the side of your head. Then, in a betrayal of his character, he laughs breathlessly, saying, “Sorry, I forgot what I was saying. The loufa– It’s purple. I put it on the towel rack, and I got you a new face towel, too, mine’s too rough for you.” 
“Did you get yourself a new one too?” 
“Yeah.” He taps your cheek, the hand you’d forgotten about drawing a short line to your jaw. “You’re pretty.” 
You drop your chin. 
“You are,” he says. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome.” Spencer’s hand slides down your neck, a caress that turns to a kind hold. “Can I…” He snorts softly. “You’re solid,” he says, squeezing your neck with enough pressure to wind you, which isn’t much. “You don’t have to get all tense.” 
“I’m trying really hard not to get tense,” you admit. 
“I know. I’m trying to help, but I’m just making it worse.” 
Spencer isn’t making it worse. Or, he wasn’t. “I thought you were gonna kiss me, is the thing.” 
“I was. Then you tensed up and I didn’t think I should.” His easy smile goes funny. “Could I have?” 
“Of course you could’ve,” you mumble, pressing your face into his shoulder before he can decimate the last of your self respect. He laughs —giggles, really, in a burst of sound— and tugs you in. “Not funny.”
He can hear the lie. “No, it’s not funny,” he agrees anyways, laying back and then moving forward, swaying you enough to turn the giggle into a full blown laugh. 
He murmurs something. You mumble back. His fingertips slip over the dip in your back and he’s saying something nice, if a little shy. It’s been nice getting closer to him, seeing the real Spencer, someone who’s hesitant but gentle beyond words. There’s no reason for him to be touching you like this, to talk sweet nothings behind your ear as he lugs you onto his chest, and maybe there’s no reason for you to melt. Butter in the sun, drifting bonelessly into his lap. 
“You smell like tea,” you say quietly. “I love it.” 
“You love it?” he asks, something oddly awed about him as he shifts your head back to look you in the eyes. 
“Mm. It’s nice. And your eyes are so brown… they’re my favourite thing about you.” 
Spencer teases the stripe of skin exposed by your rising t-shirt until you’re shivering again. “Thank you,” he says, letting one close in a wink as he taps your nose with his. “Am I allowed to say what I like about you, or–” You shake your head so violently he immediately stops. “Fine. But only because I want to sit like this for the rest of the night with you.” 
“I still need a shower.” 
“Later,” he says, his lips resting on your chin. “Way, way later, please.” 
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mytherapyisreading14 · 2 days ago
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Drunk Confessions
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Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)
Word Count: 4,6k
Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3
Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.
It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.
How are you?
I have the worst headache after last night
It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?
Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this
You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.
Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.
He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.
Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.
You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.
You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.
The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.
"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.
You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?
"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.
“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.
Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.
“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.
“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.
After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.
You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.
-
The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.
“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.
-
The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.
As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.
The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.
"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.
"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."
You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.
"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ​​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.
He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.
The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.
As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.
"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.
"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.
"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.
"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."
A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.
He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.
"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.
"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.
You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."
Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.
He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.
"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.
You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.
You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.
However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.
Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.
He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”
“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.
It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.
“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.
“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.
“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.
A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.
“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.
His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.
Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.
When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”
His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.
He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.
You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”
“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.
He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.
His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.
One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”
You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.
“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”
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evilmenenjoyer · 3 days ago
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Gratitude
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Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader
SEQUEL to City of Love. Probably not a good fic to read as a stand-alone; read City of Love first for context.
Word count: 5.5k
Warnings: smut (minors dni), dubious consent, rough sex after a fight, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, bruising, marking, pain play/sadomasochism, mirror sex, manhandling, hurt/comfort (but mostly hurt), lots of angst.
Tags: @apookalypse @thecutiepieishere / I do not have an official taglist yet, but I'd be willing to make one if people were interested. If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, or in any additions to this story, let me know somehow!
–––
It's three days later when you see him again, just when you were convinced he left Paris for good.
You knew it would take a lot longer for the reminders of him to leave your mind as well as your body. He's in the marks his hands left on your hips, in the scrapes and faint bruises along your back from when he tossed and squeezed you against the brick wall, in the ghost of his lips on your skin. You can still feel them every time you close your eyes, hear his voice whisper your name against your neck as he came.
It shouldn't surprise you, after everything, to have him knock on your door right as you’re getting ready to have a night out. It still nearly takes your breath away to see him, looking as impeccable as usual in his dark gray suit, smiling as if his mere presence doesn't rock your world upside down a third time.
“What part of ‘don’t ever contact me again’ did you not understand?” you ask, though right away you can tell you don't sound nearly as firm and assertive as you’d like. You wonder if he can tell you hoped, against every rational thought in your brain, that he would come back.
Judging by his smile, you’d bet he can.
“I couldn't help myself,” he responds, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender. “Can I come in?”
That part of you that still clings to rationality, that can tell a good idea apart from a horrible one, lights up like a loud siren in your brain. There's nothing good that could possibly come out of this. Hasn't he toyed with you enough already? With his weird twisted games, tracking you down all the way to a foreign country, sending you off to those horrific games?
Still, you find yourself stepping aside, leaving a gap for him to come through. You’ve never been good at controlling your impulses, after all.
The apartment you’ve been renting for the time being stands in the heart of Paris. It looks exactly what you pictured a typical, glamorous Parisian apartment to look like – high walls, hardwood floors, large arched windows with a stunning view of the city and the Eiffel Tower. It's furnished with all the essentials, and nothing more. You didn't see the need to bring in new furniture or decorations when you didn't even know for how long you’d be staying in the city. At this point, you’re already considering moving on to somewhere else.
“Make yourself at home,” you say. “But I’m going out soon.”
“I see that.” His eyes run over you as he sits at the arm of the couch, shamelessly lingering on the black dress that hugs all your curves at the right spots. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
You turn your back to him, looking for the earrings you had put down somewhere when you heard the knock on the door. You feel his body heat approach you from behind, his fingertips brushing against a red spot on your shoulder blade that the spaghetti straps of the dress fail to cover.
“Did I do this to you?”
His voice doesn't sound remorseful or apologetic at all. If only, there's a hint of pride to his tone, a small smile at the corner of his lip that you can tell is there without even looking at him. It should upset you, thinking of how roughly he pushed you against that wall, but it has goosebumps blooming all over your skin around the spot he touches.
“Who else would it be?” Your voice shakes ever so slightly against your will, and you clear your throat to get rid of it.
You expect him to pull back, but instead he inches even closer. He has to lean down to mold his chest to your back, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck when he speaks. “I can make it up to you.”
“Oh, really?” You turn your head just enough to chase after his lips. Screw the night out. He lets you capture them, indulging you in only a quick kiss before pulling away.
“I’m serious. I have something for you.”
“Oh.” You frown at the loss of contact, turning to face him. “What is it?”
“Close your eyes.”
Your frown deepens, and he raises his eyebrows at you. “Don't you trust me yet?” he asks.
No. Absolutely not. Still, what's the worst that can happen? What would he do while you have your eyes closed that he can't do right now; that he couldn't have done three nights ago at that bar, when you gave yourself to him so willingly?
You close your eyes, with a small sigh as if letting him know it's a nuisance. There's no real heat to it, and you both know it.
The Salesman’s hands find their way to your arms, guiding you further into the apartment. You follow his lead slowly, careful not to bump into any furniture or clutter you left around the place while picking an outfit and getting ready.
“You didn't have to give me a gift,” you say, still confused about what this is about. He stops walking the two of you, leaving you in an unknown part of the apartment. Your heart beats slightly faster than normal; distrustful, but excited. No man has ever bought you a gift before. Gifts are for girlfriends, for women they're trying to impress. Somehow, in all your years on this Earth, you’d missed out on being that woman to anyone.
“I was feeling romantic,” he explains. You feel something cold land over the exposed skin of your neck and chest, and he fiddles with a clasp at the nape of your neck. “Blame it on Paris. You can open your eyes.”
You do so, finding yourself standing in your bedroom, right in front of the large mirror resting against the wall. The necklace stands out against your skin – thin white gold chain and gemstones shining so bright you can immediately tell they're real, a ruby and a sapphire encrusted by tiny crystals. The color choice is an odd one for a necklace, prompting you to take a closer look. That's when any hints of a smile vanish from your face.
The gemstones are placed beside each other, the shapes and markings in them identical to those of the ddakji tiles you and the Salesman had played together in the subway station.
“I had it custom-made for you,” he says. Standing behind you, his reflection on the mirror takes up almost the entire background, but you don't pay him any mind. Your eyes are all but glued to the red and deep blue stones hanging from your neck, hoping against hope that you had seen it all wrong, that this was just a figment of your imagination and the real necklace will reveal itself if you just look hard enough.
It never does.
Reality hits you then. This isn’t some fun new fling, or the beginning of a Paris romance. This is the man who lured you into a horribly traumatic experience when you were at your most vulnerable, who came all the way from Seoul just to rub in your face that you didn't deserve to make it out of there alive. And now here he is. Prying his way into your apartment, your body, your mind. And you just let him.
Horror floods you, nearly pushing you to your knees right here. You touch the pendant with shaky fingers, and it takes everything in you not to grab the chain and yank it off your neck. Finally, your eyes meet the Salesman’s in the mirror.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He blinks innocently. “You don't like it?”
“Why would you do this?” you ask, unsure of whether you want to burst into tears or slap him in the face.
His fingers join yours where they rest on the necklace, only grazing your skin on their way to touching the pendant. “I thought you'd like a reminder.”
That makes you spring into action, pulling away from him and pushing his hand away with a ferocity you didn't know you still had, not since the Squid Games.
“A reminder? What makes you think I want to remember that shit?” You raise your voice; something to make up for how small you feel, by the way you need to tilt your head to look him in the eye. “If I could erase that night from my memory for the rest of my life, I would.”
“I find that hard to believe. Would you erase our night together at the bar as well?” His eyes leave yours only to look back to the mirror behind you. “Look at you. Wearing those bruises so proudly.”
For a moment all you can do is stare at him, unable to believe the sheer audacity he has to stand in your house and say these things. The worst of it all is you can’t fully deny it – you picked the dress deliberately knowing it left the upper part of your back exposed, happy to catch glimpses of the bruises he left you with if you happened to stumble upon a mirror or reflective surface throughout the night.
“I would,” you insist. “What the fuck makes you think I’d want to remember the night that ruined my life?”
A laugh comes out of him; a short, but cruel sound. “I ruined your life, is that what you're saying?”
You scoff. “Don't act like you don't know you did.”
He steps even closer to you. You refuse to step back, even when it feels like his chest is about to bump into your forehead. “Your life,” he says, “was already shit way before I came around. Debt, an awful job, an even worse home, no future prospects, no friends. What exactly was there about your life that was good enough to be ruined?”
Rage consumes you to hear him talk like that about your old life. Things were bad, yes, but there was a positivity about you that's been lost ever since you stepped foot in those games. You could barely make ends meet, and your shifts were long and exhausting, but you had hopes of going to school, of turning your life around. Your home was a tiny, shitty house in an even shittier neighborhood, but you still took the effort to decorate it and try to make it feel more like a home. Where did that go? Now, you have all the money you could ever wish for, and all you do is spend it on clothes and expensive trips you don't even have the motivation to enjoy, your only goal being getting far away from Seoul.
“At least I felt like a fucking person! Do you even know what that’s like? Feeling human?” you all but yell, grateful for the language barrier in case any neighbors happen to be listening. “I’d never killed anyone. I’d never wanted to kill anyone! I didn't have nightmares, and I didn't wake up every day wondering if I deserve to be alive after everything I did to survive!”
“You had nothing,” he reminds you, his voice cold as the winter outside. “Not even your dignity. Or did you forget how we met? How you asked me to play ddakji with you, willing to get hit in the face repeatedly not for money, but just to have my attention?”
You hold back a sob, shaking your head furiously, but it's of no use. The words sting hard enough to bring tears to your eyes; it stings even more to know they're true. 
“Get out of my apartment,” you demand. You wish you'd never let him in. You wish you'd never met him at all.
“Things are different now,” he says, ignoring your order completely. “You’re rich, and you’ve matured. You’ll never struggle again in your life, if you're smart.”
“I said GET THE FUCK OUT!”
Finally at your breaking point, you push him, shoving at his chest as hard as you have the strength to. He barely budges. It's only then that you notice how cornered he’s got you, your back about to bump into the mirror.
He brings his hand towards your face, cupping your chin and forcing you to look higher up at him. You thrash and claw at his wrist, trying to push it away from you, but he only tightens his grip until it's almost painful. There’s a darkness in his eyes that’s unlike any expression you’ve ever seen on him.
“I made you stronger. You're a millionaire now because of me,” he says. “How about a little gratitude?”
Even from your position, you still manage an incredulous scoff at him. “Gratitude?”
“Yes.” A grin stretches the corner of his lips, not a trace of warmth of friendliness behind it. “You should be thankful I pulled you out of your misery.”
He moves faster than you’re ready to, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you down. You brace yourself for the impact of your head hitting the floor, gasping in surprise when your back bounces over the soft mattress instead. He hovers above you, using his heavier body to pin yours down before you even have the chance to start struggling against his grip.
“Get off me!”
“Calm down.” He holds both your wrists together with one hand, while the other manages to somehow pull your panties off your body, using your kicking legs as leverage. Your eyes widen in shock. “I’m just giving you another reminder.”
“W-what?” Your voice wavers with fear. All that fury is slowly but surely being replaced with it, or with a mixture of both feelings that leaves you heaving for breath.
He doesn't have to pull your dress up – your own struggle does it by itself, leaving the fabric rumpled up at your hips and your bottom exposed. You stop kicking him in an attempt to cover yourself, and he takes advantage of that fraction of a second to stick his knee on the spot on the mattress between your legs, stopping you from shutting them. You gasp, the heavy pressure on your core cutting off all your thoughts for a moment. You can think of nothing to do other than to yell for help.
As if reading your thoughts, his free hand covers your mouth.
You voice your displeasure through a muffled grunt. You keep on struggling, trying to kick him off you, but each movement unintentionally rubs your bare clit over his thigh that pins you down. He applies even more pressure and you cry out, mortified to feel heat pooling between your legs.
“Christ, you're wet. I can feel it.”
You can feel it too, the fabric of his pants damp and hot where it connects with you. You're torn on whether to keep fighting and essentially humping his leg or giving up, if only to have a few instants of relief.
“If you scream, I’ll slit your throat,” he warns in a hoarse whisper. “Do you understand?”
Out of options, you nod.
He releases your mouth, then your wrists. It occurs to you to scream anyway, but you force yourself to remember who you're dealing with. He wouldn’t give you empty threats. Anyone involved in bringing people into those games has no qualms about slitting your throat open and leaving you to bleed out on your silk sheets.
The Salesman makes his way down your body, now holding onto your legs with his hands.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you manage to ask, the answer rather obvious but it had all happened so fast, leaving you dazed and confused.
“Giving you yet another reason to be thankful to me.”
The sudden, damp feel of his tongue on your entrance overcomes your senses, and you wouldn't be able to hold back a shout if you tried.
Fortunately, he forgives you for it. You squirm under the sensations, but he holds your hips down against the mattress in a firm grip, immobilizing them completely and prying you open all at once. You hoist yourself up over your elbows only to be met with your own reflection on the mirror across the room, your hair a mess already and your face contorted in fear and pleasure and indignation all at once. You can’t bear to watch yourself like this, mortification entrenched into every muscle of your body that reacts to his touch as he continues to penetrate you with his tongue. You fall back towards the mattress with a broken moan.
“God– Y-you can’t–” Whatever you were about to say dies out in your throat as his lips rise to your clit, enveloping you so expertly in the wet heat of his mouth. You clench your whole body, eyelids all the way down to your toes, and for a moment you’re grateful for the hands that hold your legs open just so you don’t have to face the shame of spreading them wider.
Your hands, perfectly capable of putting up a fight once they’d been released, twist into the sheets beneath you, holding on like your life depends on it. You curse yourself for not trying harder to push him off, for not really wanting to; for always being so unwilling to say no to him. Moans leave your lips like they’re being ripped out of you, growing in volume like you just can’t help it. It makes you wish one of the pillows were within reach so you could bury it against your face and muffle them, or simply to hide yourself from how incredibly good it feels to be at his mercy.
It doesn’t take long at all. Say whatever you want about the Salesman, but this is a man who knows what he’s doing with his tongue. In only a few minutes he reduces you to whimpers and pleading, your orgasm hitting you like a wave crashing full-force over the shore. Your back arches off the bed, mouth open in a long moan, and he continues to dine on you like a starving man until the moment you fall backwards, spent.
When you come back to yourself, you’re covering your face with your hands as he presses kisses to the line of your inner thigh. You feel him make his way up your body, feel his hands on your wrists, gently moving them out of the way and exposing your face, the deep flush that has colored your cheeks.
Looking into his eyes, you’re overcome with a rush of emotions you’re not sure how to name. How can a person make you feel so many things at once? How can you still want him – ardently, desperately, profoundly want him – after everything? How can he be so addictive, leaving you already hooked from the scraps of attention he’s given you? You tilt your head just a tiny bit towards him, a silent invitation, and he leans in the rest of the way to take your lips in his.
He kisses you deeply, hungrily, holding you through the shudders that run through your body from the aftershocks of your orgasm until they subside. Kisses you like you’re more than just a hookup, tempting you to believe there must be something about you that’s special. Kisses you for long enough to get you drunk in it, like he’s happy to do nothing but this for the rest of his life.
The next time he pulls back, he removes his suit jacket and tie. You somehow manage to help him unbutton his white shirt, motivated by the promise of feeling his bare skin on yours. You nearly forget his pants are still on, letting him work on that as you press kisses to down his neck. Of course his body is as perfect as his face. He makes an approving sound that you can feel on his throat, and you follow the vibrations of his vocal chords until his pulse point, pleased to find his heartbeats as fast as yours. You can’t resist taking the skin there between your teeth.
He growls, hands tightening on your hips and flipping you on the bed so you’re facing the other side, your back to him. You hold onto the bed frame to steady yourself, body half-bent forward.
You expect him to thrust into you without warning, just as he had the last time. Before that, he brings a hand underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards, your sight landing squarely on your joined reflection on the mirror.
“Keep your eyes right there.” Now he enters you, and you watch your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion. “Watch yourself get fucked on my cock.”
The sheer filth in his voice prompts you to obey, to look. Your knuckles turn white on the bedframe and your body rocks forward with each of his thrusts; slow at first, but steadily gaining power and speed. He reaches down to rub your clit in circles, and it makes your body jerk to feel it and see it at the same time, to watch your reactions in real time. The sight of the necklace still hanging from your neck prompts you to look away, a confirmation of what’s actually happening to you that you’re not prepared to stare in the face.
His hand leaves your clit to wrap itself into your hair, yanking it back. Your body arches to follow it, your reflection on the glass confronting you once again.
“I said look,” he says into your ear. “Don’t you wanna see what a pretty mess you are for me?”
You shake your head, although his death grip on your hair makes it difficult to move. That’s precisely the issue: seeing the mess that he made you into, seeing yourself so overwhelmed and dirty and ashamed, the sounds leaving you suggesting nothing other than aching, raw need. It’s too much. It doesn’t stop you from pushing your hips back to meet his, trying to match his rhythm. 
He angles his thrusts to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Oh God,” you croak, feeling the heaviness of tears behind your eyes and another orgasm fast approaching.
Just when you’re close, impossibly close to your release, he stops. You watch him on the mirror, panting just for a moment before he pulls out of you and releases your hair. You’re about to protest, or maybe plead for mercy, but he pushes you to lay on your back on the bed again, back inside of you before you can even think of a sentence.
“How about that thank you now?” He pounds into you, somehow even deeper from this position.  “Say it.”
“Shut up,” you say instead. The pause, brief as it was, only served to make you more desperate to come, and the last thing you need right now is to hear this. “Please just shut up.”
The necklace gleams over your chest, catching his attention. The Salesman runs a thumb over the sapphire, as if contemplating something, before he presses down on the pendant hard, digging it into your skin.
You gasp, throwing your head back. He’s moving fast enough that the bed rocks underneath you, the headboard slamming into the wall, his fingers still on the necklace like he wants to imprint it into your chest. It fucking hurts, the sharp metal edges unrelenting, digging in hard enough to leave a bruise. It makes your body sing, awakes the deeply-hidden, fucked up parts of you that crave this kind of pain.
“Every time you wake up,” the Salesman says, slightly out of breath himself, but much more composed than you, “and you look out of the window and see Paris, or anywhere that’s not the gutter in Seoul, you thank me for saving you.” He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust. “Say it.”
You don’t want to say it. Saying it makes you feel like it’s true, like you should give in and believe what he’s saying. That you are a piece of trash who got lucky, after all, and you should thank him for anything close to success that you achieve from now on. But your orgasm is so close you can feel the force of it numb your ears, your wrists; and in this moment, you would say anything, do anything, so long as he keeps you feeling this good.
“Thank you,” the words are just barely above a whisper, like you wish you could keep them to yourself as a shameful secret.
“For what?”
He gives you another hard thrust, almost painful if only the lines between pain and pleasure hadn’t been blurred a long time ago. You push your chest into an arch, the pendant digging even deeper into you until it breaks skin and the pain turns into agony.
“F-for saving me.”
“Good girl.”
You come then, thinking about the mark that the necklace will leave on you, thinking about how you’re going to feel it for days, how you’re going to remember it every time you feel it or see it. That there will be evidence on your body that he touched you this passionately. It feels like you’re floating, rising to the sky as you clench and unclench around him, as sound after humiliating sound leaves you.
You collapse back against the mattress when your orgasm finally lets you go, boneless and spent. You didn’t see or hear him come – in another situation, it might’ve upset you to miss it, if you weren’t still riding the aftershocks of that incredible high –, but he’s still against you, breathing hard into your neck. His release leaks from between your legs. He stays like that for a long time, slowly softening inside of you, before he finally pulls out and away from you.
You stay right where you are, unmoving. Somewhere far away, you think you can hear him searching for his clothes and dressing himself. You don’t want it to upset you, but it does; because of course he would come here, humiliate you, give you the best fuck of your life and then immediately leave, without so much as a word to you. Your head falls to the side, and even that small movement feels incredibly difficult, like your entire body is a limb that has fallen asleep. Your vision is blurry, far-away, until it finally focuses on the large window that overlooks the city. Tiny snowflakes flutter over the city lights and the dark night sky.
“It’s snowing.”
That pulls his attention to you. He’s got his pants and shirt on, the first few buttons undone, his once perfectly-styled hair a mess. He follows the line of your gaze to the window. “Were you looking forward to it?” he asks.
“Yeah.” It feels like forever ago since the last time you even thought about it. The Salesman was right; the city is beautiful at this time of the year.
You expect him to return to his clothes then head out the door. Instead, he reaches for the covers over the bed and wraps your naked body up in them like a baby. “Ow,” you hiss when he moves you, pain exploding on your chest where the necklace was pressed against you. A few drops of blood dry on your skin from when the skin had split. You feel the Salesman lift you bridal-style, much to your surprise, but you’re still too dazed to find it in you to question it.
He sits you both on the thick windowsill, him behind you and you leaning against his chest, framed by his legs. It’s gentle, somehow more intimate than you’ve ever been with him even after sleeping with him twice. You watch the snowfall outside, mesmerized, letting the steady rise-and-fall of his chest behind you soothe your aching muscles.
It’s the closest to safe you’ve felt in what feels like forever, and you’re crying before you even realize it.
Once it starts, it’s impossible to stop it. Your body trembles with the force of your sobs, tears flowing from your eyes like they haven’t since you were a little kid, at least not this openly. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against himself and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, keeping his lips right there against your scalp. He rocks you ever so slightly, shushing your cries, the sound as soothing as a soft lullaby. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you sob. You think about the snow in Seoul, about how the first snowfall always made you excited, even when it happened every year. You can feel your tears rolling down your cheeks and into your neck, your collarbones. “I want to go home.”
“Then go home,” he says, like it’s simple.
“I can’t.” How can you walk the same streets you always did, as if your life wasn’t completely changed? As if the price you paid for this change wasn’t much, much greater than you could deal with? “You’re right. I have nothing. No one.”
“You had nothing. You can have anything you want now.” You want to tell him there are things money can’t buy, but you’re so tired, so exhausted. You can’t muster the willpower for much other than wallowing in your own misery, weeping in his arms like a child. “And you have me.”
That only makes you cry harder, shaking your head. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”
“Look at me.” He nudges you to turn to him, the angle awkward but it’s so worth it the second he cups your face in both hands, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I mean it. Come back to Seoul.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your heavy eyelids. “You just need to see things from a different perspective. I can help you.”
He coaxes you to lay back against him, and you do so without protest, burying your face into his chest. For a moment you actually consider it. Dropping the plans you had for a next trip and following him to Seoul, letting him finish corrupting you with whatever twisted worldview he has. Maybe it would be blissful, you think, to see all that violence and bloodshed as a blessing, as something that saved you rather than ruined you. It has to be a trap, or another one of his games. But it doesn’t hurt to dream about it, just a little bit.
Little by little your crying subsides, your breaths returning to normal. He holds you through it all, stroking your hair in a way that’s so tender, so soft, like you’re fragile. Like he cares about you, or even loves you.
You silently wonder if he can love anyone at all, much less someone as broken as you.
With his fingers drawing circles on your scalp, you drift off into a dreamless sleep.
–––
You wake up alone. You’re still naked but on the bed, tucked into your blankets. There’s no confusion over what happened last night, no delusions that your brain would come up with a dream like that. There’s only memories hitting you like a truck, one after the other, and it’s too fucking early for this.
You pull yourself into a sitting position, and you jump at the sight of yourself on the mirror. You barely notice the smudged makeup from last night, your eyes going straight to the star of the show: the angry red spot right on the center of your chest, already turning into a deep purple at the center. You flinch before you even touch it, your hand hanging in the air halfway through like you’ve changed your mind. The necklace finishes it off like the cherry on top of the cake, the pair of precious stones right next to each other like eyes watching you, mocking you.
You button your coat all the way up before you leave the house.
It’s still early enough that the sun has just begun rising, coloring the sky in a bright blue that bleeds into the buildings and streets. There’s probably nothing open right now, but you could really use some coffee. Or a drink. Probably a drink.
You find him at Pont Neuf, watching the river below. There’s no one else around, the city in a rare moment of quiet and peace. He hasn’t spotted you yet, seemingly lost in thought, and it occurs to you that you could sneak up behind him, push him over the edge and just keep on walking. Sever your ties to him forever, and simply keep going like nothing ever happened, bury it along with all the other memories you try so hard to forget.
You don’t do it, but knowing you could brings you a bit of comfort. You lower your head and keep walking in the opposite direction, not sparing him another glance.
593 notes · View notes
urstruly-ghst · 2 days ago
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peek-a-boo ! - dorm leaders
in which you like hiding in the most random places and surprising them
authors note: like they're gonna be so mad but ykw they love u
ALSO OMG 1K FOLLOWERS ??!! ty everyoneee <3!
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riddle rosehearts
you're lucky, riddle notes, he is used to these antics from che'nya. he was so blessed to know those tactics, because riddle wouldn't know what to do if he was unprepared of this situation: you were hanging upside down because you hid on top of his closet!
smiling and humming happily, you edge close to the very end of the closet door; as if you're taunting him.
"heyyy riddle!"
"you get down this instant and be careful!" riddle said mortified as he started pulling his pillows and duvets to the ground to cushion your fall. you jumped and riddle yelled and used his magic to make you float.
"my rose..." he said with a glare as his heart thumped hard against his chest. "never do that again."
leona kingscholar
herbivore is what he calls you, however he feels like that calling you "kitten" is now appropriate. you act like some juvenile kitten who just saw the world. though, leona isn't keen on that behaviour.
leona is on the verge of assigning ruggie to you now, with how your conquest to fright him with the many times you put yourself in places you shouldn't be in. for example, the dorm's tall trees.
"herbivore!" leona growled as his heart sank when he heard from ruggie you disappeared somewhere in the dorm. you whistle and shake a bit to signal to leona you were up on the tree.
"hey, kingscholar!" you said smugly as you lounged atop the tree. leona felt scared and irritated, why must you make things difficult before he has to nap or practice? he struck the tree and made into sand before catching you, his grunt and your wide eyed stare was enough to send the dorm into a frenzy.
"you are not leaving my side, understood?" leona said as he wrapped his tail around you.
azul ashengrotto
azul is still trying to get used to how legs work and being in high up places. so why must you torture him and hide in the most inconvenient of places? the most outrageous was his laundry basket, which mind you, now smells like you! (not that he minds, but still!)
he's trying to find you in the vast dorm room, azul curses his extensive dorm sometimes when it came to how you hide. azul thinks that floyd is also helping you, which is worse, now he has to deal with double the trouble.
"beryl...? come on out, we have plans remember?" azul calls out a bit wary and frustrated that it was dead silent and you may have been hiding for too long. oh, sevens, you may be hungry!
"boo." you say as you grab onto his ankles, azul shrieked and fell. his legs failing him, you giggle as you crawl out of the bottom of some floor board? azul glared as he recovered composure.
"we're making a new deal." azul says as he readies himself to make a contract with one new rule: stop sneaking up on him.
kalim al asim
it wasn't kalim's problem to find you, jamil or someone else does. it infuriates jamil that kalim joins in on your little escapades. sometimes you make it a contest to see if one can hide longer.
though, kalim does get scared sometimes. you learned some tricks from him too, and it is a disadvantage to him especially when you disappear for too long. for example, right now, you're nowhere to be seen and his spacious dorm makes the search even more difficult.
"sunshine? sunshineee?" kalim echoes in the hallway, jamil also on a search for you on the other end of the dorm. it was fun at first but it was concerning and record-breaking. kalim turned a corner and a plant grabbed onto him. kalim nearly flooded the plant until he realized it was you.
"easyy, baby!" you say as he almost sent a flood your way. kalim sighed in relief, and smiled brightly because you now were found!
"yeah, well... you know how i am with being alone!" kalim giggled nervously, as if to remind you of his status and what that entails. you nodded and said "oh" with the realization. lesson learned i guess?
vil schoenheit
you're lovable, vil would say, as his patience thin at the prospect of you disappearing. usually, it was easy to find you. predictable is what vil calls your hiding skills. also, rook hunt happily indulges in the request of finding you (unfair with his unique magic.)
today, however, vil was on his own trying to find you in the dorm. he was an expert at the little nooks and crannies of the dorm. however he was bested because you dropped by, literally, in front of him effectively startling him.
"kya!" vil said as he brought out his wand ready to attack. you smile as you brush yourself off, falling from the chandelier. he sputtered before glaring. vil checked your vitals and tried to see if any injury was there.
"hiya sweetie!" you chirped and vil clicks his tongue as he carefully inspected you. once he's done, he flicks your forehead with a glare.
"don't 'sweetie' me, potato. you could've been hurt. now, come. we are overdue for a good scolding and pampering" vil said with a glare as if he is making note of a new potion to stop your hiding tendency.
idia shroud
frankly, idia thinks you're insane. he even straight up considers bringing you to a facility to check up on your mental capacity. why? who hides in a room filled with computers with no jacket? do you know how cold those rooms are? idia and ortho found you smiling as you hid in some closet box where the power supply is.
and trust, idia keeps you under lock and key after that. but you had your ways, you'd hide under the desk, the bed. behind his clothes, anything. it came to the point idia made a software called, "find prefect."
"oh geez. ortho boot up find prefect" idia said as he saw how you're not in his room again. idia was jittery knowing that you'd bribe ortho into not revealing where you are for a prank, which ortho seems to love lately.
as ortho boots up, it takes a while, you surprise him by covering his eyes. a loud shriek occurred as the lights turned off too. idia burns up and ortho giggled as he finally finished booting up
"prefect is 4 centimeters away from your location!"
malleus draconia
how adorable, malleus says, as you try to hide from his careful eye. he's quite used to lilia and his hiding skills, so you can't hide no matter how hard you try. yet, malleus entertains this folly and pretends to be shocked whenever you try to spook him.
though, malleus gets concerned by how you take risks in hiding at the most obsecure of places. his personal fright was you hiding by the moat because it was the least expected. as malleus dries you up, he shakes his head and gently scolds you.
"you have to admit, the moat is a good place to hide" you chide as malleus uses his magic to lift you away from the moat. you drip from being sprung from the water and shiver at the wind.
"it is quite the unexpected turn. but i'd rather have my dear child of man safe and dry." malleus scolds as he dries you up and pinches your cheek to scold you.
"ahh fine" you surrender, knowing you really can't fight his logic, you were starting to cramp up from trying to stay afloat.
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whadawhaaa · 1 day ago
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Its been two weeks since the last earth-shaking explosion rattled the bunker my family has been holed up in during the war. The past three years have felt like a blur, a monotonous chant that I can't even remember the words to.
Most days consisted of mom quietly humming as she swept away the dirt, her hair seemingly becoming more gray and frazzled each time the bunker rumbled and dirt fell from the ceiling, extending the chore like a never ending loop. My younger brother spent most of his time playing through my old DS games, not like we had internet the moment the first bomb dropped. The first few weeks he would ask "How much longer" hourly and he seemed restless, complaining about the processed food and canned veggies we had to sustain on. As the weeks turned to months, eventually years he too became silent.
I remember my dad, explaining to Mom the action plan, helping us pack our emergency bags and sending us on our way. He told us he would see us soon, but I think we all lost hope within the first few months, even though my mom still tells my brother how Dad will be so happy to see us when we finally reunite on the surface
"This is different," I remember Dad's words as he looked up to the sky before seeing us off, "I promise you will be safe, I promise I will see you soon." With one last bear hug, off we went. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere after hours of driving Mom pulled off to the side of the road. The Pacific-northwest wilderness all around us.
"Where are we?" I looked up from my phone, immediately noticing the tears running down her cheeks, "...Mom?"
"We have to walk the rest of the way," she said, obviously trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Your dad has left markers, he told me I would recognize them."
She took a deep breath, "Grab your brother and your bags, I'll get the first aid kits and the rest of the supplies."
We got out and I opened the back seat, "Come on, Cam," unbuckling him from the car seat. He was so much smaller, only five when it all ended. "Time to walk!"
We trekked through the cold for what seemed like hours in one direction and then my mom stopped.
"There," she pointed at a pine off to the right, etched into it were to letters. "N + C" I immediately recognized mine and Cameron's initials.
As we walked towards it I could see Mom's eyes darting around, scanning quickly and taking in every detail of the area, "Nic, I need you to help me find-" she cut off as in the distance she points at another tree with the same initials, "There!" she started running, "Look for them, Nic, we need to go!"
We followed tree after tree for miles, and eventually came to a clearing with a large boulder in the middle. My mother has been a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember, but she began digging around the pine needles and dirt at the base of the rock, as if years of training were kicking in.
Finally with an "Aha!" and some tugging at the base of it, a small tremor began, a hatch lifted about twenty feet away.
"Nic, I know we haven't explained much to you at this point, but I need you to be strong, your fifteen now and I don't know how long we are going to be here." Mom looked both terrified and stern at the same time, "We will be here until Dad comes and gets us, there is a very big war that is about to happen. Do you understand?"
I looked into the shadows beyond the hatch, "Are we mole people now?"
A small wave of humor wiped across her face "Nic, this is not the time for jokes, but yes"
Ever since then the bunker has been home. We listened and waited, stocks of canned and dehydrated goods sustaining us as the ground shook around us day after day for years. When the first day came without a bomb being dropped I don't think any of us realized, after three days Mom put Cameron down for bed and motioned for me to follow her out of the small bunk room we shared.
"Its been days now, do you think its safe?" My voice was raspy, I couldn't remember the last time I spoke aloud. Weeks? Months?
"I-I don't know," she turned to me with same terrified stern look she had two years before. I realized the pressure we were under, and not just from being fifty feet below the surface. "We need to wait until your father-"
"Mom, when are you going to stop acting as if he survived? We need to figure this out." Did anyone else survive? Who won the war? How long do we wait.
"Nic, it is very important that we wait, your dad is a very resourceful man and if he said he will come to us then I believe him" She walked towards the ladder in the corner of the room and looked up from where we climbed down.
"How long?" I asked bluntly, "How long do we sit here hiding before we accept he didn't survive? Something up there has been shaking us out in the middle of nowhere for years" I start to realize the time we've spent in the dark, disconnected, "There are so many things that could be happening and we cannot guarantee anything!"
"Two weeks." she said, without looking away from the only way up. "I will wait two weeks, and if no more tremors we can go to the surface. I will go to the surface and check if its safe."
Here I am, two weeks later trying to sleep as anxiety rips through me and what is going to happen tomorrow when we wake up. Will it be safe? Is there anyone left? Slowly as I drift to sleep, these unanswered questions exhausting me I feel a small tug. No, not a tug, a lift, as if a small wave pulled me above water briefly. My eyes snap open and I look at the battery clock next to my bunk, its time.
I walk out and I see my mom standing in the main room, dressed as if she had somewhere to go for the first time in months, and she did.
"I'm going up," she said, "Watch Cameron and I'll be right back down." She picked up a small device off the kitchen table, turning it on made it click and whistle, then silence. "I need to see if we are in danger from radiation."
She grabs the metal ladder, her foot on the first rung, "If its safe, we need to hope the car is where we left it otherwise we will be walking for a while" she began to climb up into the darkness.
After about ten minutes when I heard the hatch opening echo down the tunnel and again I felt the tug, stronger this time. It felt as if I was standing in the ocean and a wave tried to lift me off of my feet, I felt a tingling sensation course though me and release as if shooting out of my fingertips. When I heard the hatch close the sensation almost immediately cut off, "Shit." I said aloud, thinking to myself it must be radiation. I grew more and more anxious as I heard Mom's steps get closer and closer to the bottom until she appeared from the dark.
"Its-" She paused, turning around her face looking like a mix of confused and stressed, "Its clear, no traces at all."
Then what was that feeling? I must've looked a certain way while thinking and Mom read me like a book.
"I don't know what the was when I opened the hatch, Nic, but you're right. We cannot sit and wait until our food supply is gone, we need to find help." She grabs our bags and sets them on the table, quickly gathering supplies. "Go get Cameron ready."
We gather everything and I get Cameron dressed, he asks a hundred questions I don't have the answer to and I just keep telling him we need to go back to the car. Finally, we get go up. Mom first, then Cameron, then me. Slowly making our way through the dark until Mom stops below the hatch. Our dimly lit abode below us looks like a small speck five stories below us.
"My arms hurt!" Cameron whines.
"Give me just a sec to-hah! Found it!" The hatch clicks and Mom pushes it open letting in a burst of light and fresh air. My body feels light again, a sudden rush pushes me and I feel like I'm going to shoot straight up like a cork in a bottle.
We crawl out and everything looks surprisingly familiar. The air feels crisp with a slight tinge of fall and wet pine needles to give me an idea of the time of year. The sensation continues to pull me upwards, I feel pressure building as if I'm a balloon being pushed under water. The tingling sensation feels as if it is concentrated on the tips of my fingers and I look down and-
"Mom, what's going on!?" I hold up my hand and as I do sparks begin to shoot from it, no pain only pressure.
"I-I don't know Nic, are you ok? Does it hurt?" She looks horrified, "Shake it off!"
I start shaking my hand, I feel tears welling up even though I don't feel hurt, just scared. The sparks fade. I look down at my hand and see light blue lines tracing along my veins and fading up my arm. I reach out and the outlines pulse as if alive. My hand is no longer shooting sparks and I move my fingers to make sure everything is ok. They meet friction when I move them, something that feels almost like my old guitar strings pushing against my fingers, a clump of chords in my hand when I ball it into a fist. I reach out slowly and run my index finger down as if to strum the invisible instrument, quickly with each passing chord, a faint blue line lights up as I move downward, one by one lighting up and fading fast behind.
I take a step forward, and besides the pressure inside my chest, there is nothing stopping me moving. I take a swing with my hand and like a harp, the faint chords appear vertically behind the motion, fading as quickly as they appeared.
A voice rings through my mind, a voice like music.
"You have a natural talent, you understand the magic coursing through you as a beautiful song waiting to be played"
"Who are you?!" I say aloud.
"Nic, who are you talking to?" Mom looks so scared, Cam looks up at me, his eyes bright with curiosity.
"Its been a long time since I have been awake in this world, so many voices, too many for me to handle. At last I can hear the music through all of the noise!"
"If you don't tell me who you are, I-I-" I stammer out, not knowing what I would do if the voice doesn't give me an answer.
"Calm down, child. I am not here to hurt you, in fact I am your savior, your muse. Soon you will understand, soon you will play such beautiful songs for me, you will compose symphonies for my orchestra. For I, child, am Mystra."
The magic weave is real, every human pulls from it. But the vast Ocean that is the weave is not infinite and as the human population rises the power one can pull from the weave becomes almost non existent. Earth just faced a apocalyptic event that wiped out 80% of humanity and you feel the weave
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thefrontmanscockwarmer · 2 days ago
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My Lovely
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Player 001 x reader [Fluff]
Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list
You had an expensive day, to say the least. You were tired, walking around and carrying all your bags. You chose not to bring a guard along with you, it wasn’t’t like you were a celebrity or high profile. In fact, you could guarantee that no one knew who you were, only the fact that you were a big spender. But, you knew better than to assume that your darling husband would let you off the island without some form of protection around you.
When you first met In Ho and you walked around, you heard him say it once; that you were literally the safest person in the world in that present moment. You knew for a fact that if he said that while you were walking through Seoul with him, then walking alone… security was tighter than ever.
“Babe!” You shouted. You walked into the empty room. You dropped your bags, the others would be brought up within the next 5 minutes. Not a single one of those masked men on the island dare to keep you waiting, disappoint, or frustrate you. They’d rather die than face the monster out wrath of your husband, their boss, the Front Man. You thought it a good idea to soak in the tub, to wash away the smell of being outdoors.
You could admit, you were spoiled, probably treated better than any form of royalty, and you knew it. You heard the door to your room open, not bothering to call out to your husband. You laid for an hour longer before getting out and drying off with a fresh towel. You did your skincare routine earlier than usual, but you didn’t plan on going anywhere. Slipping your robe on and loosely tying it, you walked into the grand bedroom.
In Ho was no where to be found. You ventured further into your enormous room before seeing him settled in front of large screen tv, in his large black chair, pouring a glass of bourbon. Today’s game was playing in front of him,
“Dalgona” you say, from behind him. “Who picked that?’ You snorted.
“I cannot for the life of me remember which one of those game squares sugg- oh, you know what, it was il nam who did” he said not turning towards.
“Honey, haven’t I asked you not to watch that wretched game on the screen while I’m home?” You ask floating to his side, curling into his outreached hand.
“Yes, my lovely, you have” he said, clicking it off. He pulled you into his lap. “How was your day, gorgeous?”
“It was good. I went to all of my favorite little market shops, I picked up some more soaps for us. I was running out so bought us both some. Some magazines, and I ran into the recruiter today. He sends his wishes.” You said. “And the malls, until I got tired then I drove back to the ferry to be brought back.” You smile.
“That smile tells me my bank statement has something that tells you bought something you didn’t consult me over” he smiles at you. You shake your head. “(Y/n)?” In Ho drawled out tauntingly.
“Nothing I promise” you say quickly.
“Then, (y/n), who is this?” He pulls a sleeping kitten from beside him. You were busted.
“Oh baby, just look at him!” You squealed, with excitement. “I couldn’t help myself, and he was the only one!” You tried to defend yourself.
“I’m not upset, and he is quite adorable.” He agrees as he hands your newly adopted kitten to you. “What did you decide to name him?”
“I want you to help me decide”
“Oh, so, I do have say in the matter!” Your husband exclaimed. “How about Wiseuki?”
“I think it’s perfect!” You say holding the kitten.
“What breed is he anyways? He looks like a leopard or a jaguar” In Ho says.
“He’s a Bengal cat… or so the lady said.” You reply. “I’m getting tired, join me?” You ask.
“Why would I pass up the opportunity to sleep with my wife?” In Ho asks, not really looking for an answer. “I fed him already, by the way” he said. You look at him sharply. “I read the instructions, made sure I did everything right. His bed it set up, litter box in that far corner”
“You did everything!” You say happily, setting the kitten on his bed. “The woman says he’s already potty trained” you add.
“Oh good” In Ho says picking you up and twirling you around before laying you on your bed. You giggles slowly dying out.
“So, how was your day ?” You ask him as he undoes his long leather coat.
“Oh god. Il nam, is stressing me out. I mean, that man’s ode to dying is crazy. On his death bed and he chooses to join his own games, granted he has the immunity from death but how are we supposed to cover every game?” He says, he walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth, “I just don’t get it, and his guests arrive in just a few days and there’s just more responsibility placed on me that I don’t really want” In Ho gets into bed next to you.
“I’m so sorry baby” you reply cuddling up to him.
“It’s okay, laying here with you at the end of it all makes it all worth it. Keeping you happy, being able to just live how we do but are reminded I am just a man that loves his wife and just wants to be with her at night.”
“I love you” you say kissing his chest.
“I love you, more” he kisses your forehead. Sighing heavily as he relaxed. Holding you close to him and entangling his legs with yours. “I love you more.
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dollediary · 1 day ago
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webcam perv! pt. 1
pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader
point of view ❥ third person, omniscient
warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording
synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.
word count ❥ 4.4k
taglist: @rayofsunshineeee
author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!
y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.
she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.
midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.
after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.
the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.
after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.
stranger is typing…
stranger: hii
you: hello
stranger: m23
you: f22
stranger: cam?
you: earn it?
this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.
stranger: can i see you now?
you: fine lol
y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.
stranger is typing…
stranger: damn ur fine lol
you: thx so are you
stranger: you in korea?
you: yeah
stranger: me too
stranger is typing…
stranger: audio?
you: yk what? yeah
heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.
“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.
“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.
heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”
y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in. 
heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”
“y/n,” she responded.
“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”
“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.
“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”
his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.
“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.
“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.
“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.
“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.
“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”
her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.
“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.
y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”
“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.
“i guess.”
“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.
“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.
“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”
whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.
heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”
“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.
“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.
“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.
“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”
heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.
“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.
her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.
she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.
“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell. 
he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.
lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.
a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.
it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.
heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough. 
but to heeseung, it was everything.to him, everything about her was intoxicating to him, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.
he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more. 
y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.
”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ
“heeseung~ oh my god.”
fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.
just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.
y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.
meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.
y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.
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larluce · 2 days ago
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First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.
Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.
Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.
The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.
Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.
And so the adventures begin!
Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.
And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.
The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.
And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.
First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️
About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.
The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.
Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.
From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".
Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!
I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.
So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...
Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.
I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.
That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰
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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 day ago
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Comfort Headcanons for Frank, Matt, and Mikey
A/n: so I am ridiculously overwhelmed by personal and political stuff right now. And I told myself I was going to write every day this week if possible, but my brain was being difficult today. So instead of working on a longer fic I wrote some self-indulgent headcanons about Frank, Matt, and Mikey caring for an overwhelmed partner. I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to send me other headcanon requests!
How would they’d react to you being overwhelmed
Frank
Frank would pick up on this IMMEDIATELY
the second your self care habits change, he’s onto you. You stay up later than normal two nights in a row, or run out the door with a granola bar instead of eating a real breakfast, and he is concerned™️
He’s willing to entertain it for three days max. He knows life gets tough sometimes, and he doesn’t want to encroach on your process—but we all know that once this man is worried, he’s minutes away from taking control. He has issues but we love him for it.
On the 4th day, when you’re waking up exhausted after far too little sleep and rejecting his offer to take you out for breakfast, he puts his foot down.
“Gonna order in for dinner tonight, ok? We can watch that movie you wanted to see and turn in early.”
You hastily agree, bolting out the door before you end up late to your job.
When you finally arrive home, he’s all over you in an instant. Murmuring his hellos while helping you out of your coat and shoes, ushering you over the couch.
He’s insisting that you sit in his lap while the two of you pick out dinner, offering suggestions for restaurants instead of leaving the choice open-ended. Given how tired and generally stressed you seem, he wants to take as much weight off your shoulders as possible.
Once dinner has been ordered, he tucks you close to his chest, practically burying you in a jumble of muscular limbs, humming appreciatively when you nuzzle further into his space. His hand is cupped around your nape, thumb gently brushing over your spine as you hunch toward him.
“Ready to talk about what’s botherin’ ya, doll?” The question leaves room to decline, but his stern tone suggests you choose to answer.
He listens carefully as you tell him what’s on your mind, brushing silent kisses against your forehead whenever your breath wavers around a stifled sob. His hands never move from your skin, cradling you to him like he’s trying to absorb your pain.
He wouldn’t let you lift a finger the rest of the night. Retrieving the take out, dishing it up for you, drawing you a bath, tucking you into bed
When you’re beginning to drift off atop his giant shoulder, he’d rest his forehead against yours.
“I know it’s tough right now. But we’ll get through. I promise.”
“Please don’t leave, Frank.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll.”
Matt
Matt isn’t as observant of your habits and routines, but he can sure as hell pick up changes in body language.
Gritting teeth, blinking back tears, frustrated sighs—he notices all of it. He might not act on it immediately, brushing it off when you explain that you just had a bad day, but when your fatigue and growing apathy persist…
I think you hiding something from him would spook him for sure, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be determined to get answers out of you. He’d set his personal anxieties aside and prepare for a serious talk.
He’d leave the office somewhat early, asking you to meet him at his apartment. He’d offer you a beer, or whatever you were in the mood for (if his lacking fridge and pantry allowed for it), and he’d ask you the big question.
“You aren’t yourself lately. What’s going on?”
He’s not happy when you start crying, but he’s definitely relieved when you collapse into his arms and explain your recent mood. Even more so when you confess it had nothing to do with him.
As always, he harbors immense guilt for not being there, not being endlessly supportive, not being able to solve the issues gnawing at you with his own two fists.
But what he doesn’t realize is that he’s helping just by being there. By being present and absentmindedly squeezing you with his tree-trunk arms. By acknowledging your struggles and offering what he could.
He’d cut his patrols short for a few days, nearly begging you to sleep at his loft instead of in your own bed, so he could keep a metaphorical eye on you. He sleeps better with you by his side anyway.
Mikey
You’re Michael’s whole world, so he’d know you were overwhelmed before you realized it yourself.
As soon as he spotted the stress lines on your face, he’d be on his feet, trying his best to lighten the burden.
He’d walk you to and from work, as always, maybe even stopping by to keep you company on your lunch hour.
When he wasn’t with you, or ignoring his family, he’d be constantly cleaning the house and working through your joint to do list, taking task after task off your plate so you could properly decompress.
He wouldn’t pressure you to talk to him about it, but he’d give you the option.
“I’m here if ya want to talk, pet. Anytime ya need.”
And, of course, you’d take him up on it. Explaining that you could handle everything and you didn’t want him to overwhelm himself trying to help you because it was just a pile of small things that were wearing you down. But he’d have none of it.
“I wanna do this fer ya. Let me help, love.”
He’d bundle you in a knit blanket on the couch and set the tv to your favorite show, kissing the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to clean up after dinner.
I hope you enjoyed! And I hope you’re all doing ok this week. It’s rough out there.
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quarterlifekitty · 2 days ago
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Sliding into your dms because your pretending to be a man idea got into my brain and won't leave me alone. We'll have to suffer together okay.
Imagine you're a daughter of some lowly destitute baron, he died and now all you have is a house and your brother, Alex. You have to sell the house because your father had debt that hasn't been settled. Luckily, you'll still have money left from the sale. Unluckily, the money is not much. You can either use it to send Alex to the royal academy or you can use it as your marriage dowry, of which your prospect isn't great anyway since you're poor and barely even a noble. Alex wants you to use the money, he's long been disillusioned with the king (Shepherd) and he wants to go help the neighbouring kingdom fight off their invader. He'll sleep easier knowing you have a roof over your head. Still, the thought of being married to some strange old men makes you want to throw up. You think you'd rather die. But you also don't want to stop Alex from pursuing his dream. So you and Alex came up with the idea that will satisfy you both: you will take his place in the royal academy and he can leave in peace, knowing you'll be safer in the academy than alone without a house in the countryside. He'll tell people that he's sent you to live with some distant relatives somewhere.
Years pass and you thrive in the academy. You graduate and despite having no connections or wealth, your capability lands you a job inside the palace. It's nothing fancy, and likely you won't go very far working under a neglected concubine, but she's very nice and funny. The salary is also good enough that you think if you keep working for a few years you can buy a small house and retire back to the countryside. Maybe you'll even stay longer just to accompany your mistress.
All in all, life is nice and uneventful. The great nobles and the king might be fighting, but you and your mistress are so far down the political ladder it barely affects you. Or so you thought and so it should have been, if not for your mistress starting a genuine love affair with Marchioness Laswell.
Your mistress' affection for you causes Laswell to pay attention to you. And unfortunately for you, she's seen the real Alex before. She knows you're a fraud. You think you're done for, but Laswell says she understands why you do it. She says she won't let the public learn your secret.
And she doesn't, because Duke Price isn't the public. He's just a Duke in desperate need of a wife. Someone to help him escape the disadvantageous match that will only put him under Shepherd's control once more. What a good luck he has to meet you, a noble who is unaffiliated with king, at this exact time. Surely you'll be willing to help him out? Being a duchess is certainly better than pretending to be a guy. It's definitely less risky, he says. Do you know that using someone else's identity can get you to jail? What if the king finds out and thinks you're plotting treason? Off with your pretty little head then. Surely being his duchess would be safer. He'll protect you. Take care of you. Spoil you, even. You and your good birthing hips and however many kids you two will have.
TLDR, you pretend to be a guy to escape marrying strange old men only to marry another (worse) strange old man
So first of all. I LOVE THIS. And now for my paltry additions….
I think that once Price found out about you, he became extremely fixated for a number of reasons. One? He’d met you before. He visited the academy as an alumni, occasionally donated to the institute, and would visit to check on the allocation of those funds.
And he remembers seeing you, swimming in your too-large uniform. Absolutely decimating your studies. In his observation of the academy, he’d unwittingly found himself following you around to your different lessons and seeing you sweep the floor with every other student. It was clear you were extremely bright, and he heard the whisperings about you.
A shame about your lowly birth. You might’ve made a fine tactician.
Price, as a rather meritocratic man, wanted to have you in his service as soon as you graduated. But as with many of the finest things in the kingdom, you were plucked up and handed off as something of a present to one of the king’s newer, shinier consorts.
So when Laswell starts her dalliance with that very consort, it sparks a memory in Price. And he asks after you. Which gets Laswell to commit you more to memory when she meets with you. And suddenly it’s quite obvious. She tells Price all about it, with amusement on her face, at one of their weekly meetings.
Suddenly there’s a little click in his brain. Like everything’s slotting into place. He was denied you once, in one way, and it won’t happen again. Now he can have you in all ways. With the forces at his disposal, and your brilliance in tactics and writing, he may well have the makings of some serious political sabotage. With him as your husband, you could soar in a way your class and gender never would’ve allowed. And at the end of it all? You’re quite pretty. A new dress and a circlet for that boyish cut of hair and you’d be bewitching. He was eager to see what those loose tunics had been hiding.
You can’t refuse his offer. Suddenly, Alex is called by letter to care for an ailing relative who has no other means of support. The same relative that had supposedly taken you in. And John quite selflessly takes you in following, and from a public perspective, it all went so naturally after that. What could be more heartwarming and dreamy? A generous noble taking in a common born girl in an act of charity, and the two falling in love, enough to defy the gaps in their stations and marry. It’s the kind of thing that only happens in fairy tales.
But despite all of John’s political aspirations, he knows it must appear as if nothing is amiss. That means doing what any noble would do with a young, pretty bride. It means spoiling you with all the finery he can… and it means making sure that you’re with child within the year.
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tonysbed · 2 days ago
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Secrets I keep | Norris!reader
Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader
Lando Norris x sister!reader
Danielriccardo x Norris!reader
summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..
warnings: none
a/n: I always see fewtrell!reader x lando but what If I want max and not Lando?😔
not proofread
series masterlist | masterlist | next
yn
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish and 729.546 others
yn there’s always a good looking, better, smarter little sister to her older brother. Oh and his best friend
tagged landonorris / maxfewtrell
landonorris don’t get greedy now
user what is he even doing there?😭
riabish wifeeee 😍😍
yn ❤️
user fck lando, I want her
user they’re so bi panic coded
user yn and max in peace? Is war over?
user don’t say that to loud
yn never.
user i warned you.
user oh man 😔
-
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“So you’ll be gone a week?” Lando was leaning against the doorframe as he watched you pack your last few items “Yeah that’s the plan but who knows. Daniel has a habit of keeping people longer than intended” You chuckle and look around the room to check if you packed anything.
Ever since Daniel had been dropped from RB you had missed the aussie. Now there was finally a good time for you to fly to australia and meet up with him. He had always been a good friend of yours and also knew about the whole Max dilemma that took place a few years ago, unbeknownst to Lando.
“Yeah he does. Just be safe okay?” He pushes himself off the frame and takes your luggage “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time i’m flying somewhere alone, is it now?” You roll your eyes and smile.
“Yeah yeah. Come on.”
-
Lando parked his car and helped you unload your luggage. He walks with you to your destinated gate and you look at him “I’ll be okay. I’ll text you. And i’m pretty sure daniel is gonna send you plenty of unflattering pictures of me, as always”
Lando breaks a smile and pulls you in for a hug “Have a good flight. Text me when you land and Daniel picked you up, alright?” You nod “Will do, I love you”
“Love you too. Have fun!” He says, waving and smiling.
-
You see Daniel from afar. His typical smile widened as soon as he saw you “My favourite norris!” He wrapped his arms around you and you hug him tight.
“It’s so boring without you, I swear” You chuckle into his chest. He smiles and pulls away “I bet it is. Let me take your stuff, you must be exhausted after that long flight” Daniel takes your luggage and leads you to his car.
He opened the door for you and puts your stuff in the trunk. You connect your phone to his car once he started it “Lando can put his DJ era to rest, you’re the new DJ” He laughs and so do you “Absolutely! He’ll be living in my shadow now!” You chuckle.
He starts driving and a comfortable silence with quiet music in the background settles and you enjoy the view.
“Dan?” He hummed “Can we get food?” “Absolutely. What do you want?” You think for a moment “You aren’t on a diet anymore, are you?” You smirk and he smirks back “Mcdonald’s?” He smiles “Yes oh my god! I haven’t had that in ages because of Lando!” He laughs “On to the big M!”
*yn added to their story*
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[caption: the best after a long flight 💙👀]
replies:
landonorris oh come on!!
yn 😘
landonorris yeah yeah
riabish already miss you
yn miss you more
user who’s that?
franciscagomez : Who is that?👀
yn just daniel 😂
franciscagomez oh! yeah okay. Text me when you’re back, gotta have a girls day😔
yn will do ml
❤️
-
yn
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liked by landonorris, danielriccardo, carmenmundt and 937.168 others
yn personal bag carrier and me for life 🤞💙
*tagged danielriccardo*
danielriccardo I get better pics than your brother, I am honoured 😂
yn he’s ugly, you’re not
danielriccardo 😘😘
user oh?
user danielyn is still thriving yall
user hold on, did she fly all the way to australia for him?!
user seems like it..
user they’ve been friends
user are they?
user yall keep making it weird
landonorris at least you’re spending his money, not mine
yn I have my own money, thank you very much
landonorris and for what did you pay?
yn mcdonald’s…
danielriccardo I had to repay her somehow?
landonorris no wonder she’s so spoiled
yn i’m not??
-
You both sit down on the edge of the boat and admire the now sinking sun “So how’s it going?” Daniel asked rather quietly “With what?” You lean on the back of the small seating area “Fewtrell” He turns his head, also leaning against the back.
“Can we not talk about him? He’s been getting on my nerves quite often lately” You say, directing your attention back to the sunset “Have you ever told lando what really happened?” His eyes were still fixed on you
“No. What would I say? Oh hey lando, have I told you that your sister and your best friend don’t like each other because he refused to take her virginity and felt like he would go against moral codes so he rejected her in a way that made her self conscious for years and never lose her virginity?” You say, still looking at the sunset.
“Yeah okay maybe- Wait what? You’re still a virgin?” Curiosity bubbled up in Daniel. Your cheeks turned red “Forget that part, I didn’t and wont ever.” Daniel sits up more straight “You..what?!”
“Daniel, let it go. Why is that such a big deal?” You say and look at him. His face full of shock “Yn, you’re one of the most beautiful and kind people. I just.. I thought you may have a boyfriend by now and..”
You shake your head “Nope.” He raised his eyebrows “Oh dear” “I’m not missing out on much here, daniel”
He laughs “If he’s just focused on himself, definitely not. But if it’s someone who takes your pleasure first..” His voice quietens and his eyes drop for a moment “Let’s just enjoy the sunset. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore” You say, still blushing.
He nods and settles back next to you, arm finding its place around your shoulder. You lean your head on his shoulder and a comfortable silence settles over you.
“One last question” You groan and look at him “What now?”
“Did he like you back?” You sigh “Yeah, he just didn’t want to go behind landos back. I can’t be mad about that, they’ve been best friends forever but he could’ve at least let me down easy and not flaunt his new girlfriend in my face at every opportunity”
Daniel nods “He missed out, not you. Lando is just bark no bite” You chuckle “A bit, yeah” You settle back on his shoulder “I missed this” “What? Sunsets?”
“No you, you idiot” He laughed “oh! blame christian for dropping you.” You laugh “I’ll send him a letter to let him know” You laugh and so does he.
“Dumbass” “I know”
-
yn
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liked by danielriccardo, alexandrasaintmleux and 826.647 others
yn australian canvas 🌅
tagged danielriccardo
danielriccardo 🧡🐨
alexandrasaintmleux the dress 😍
yn ❤️❤️
user how long has she been w daniel now??
user 5 days I believe
user the sunset is so pretty
user daniel omggg
-
“You’ve been awfully quiet” Lando looks at max who just rolls his eyes. Ethan nods “Yeah, what’s going on?” Max looks up at Lando “You do know that Daniel fancies her, right?” Max takes a bite from his food “He doesn’t.” Max raised an eyebrow “You sure? I’d think about how he acts around her.”
Even ethan quietened down, thinking about Max’s words. Lando stared at max, who simply kept eating. Landos phone lit up with a notification from you.
‘Hey lan, I’ll be staying a bit longer with Daniel. Hope you don’t mind, love you and see you soon!’
Lando made a face at his phone before responding. He set his phone down and looks at Max “He wouldn’t..right?” Max looks at him “How am I supposed to know?”
“The bloke it nice! He would be a good fit for your sister,no?” Ethan chimed in. Max glared at him for a second before turning his attention to his food “I mean, better than someone you don’t know at all?”
Lando nods, unsure what to make of the situation. He takes a sip of his drink before looking at Ethan “What if you just ask her?” He said, now picking up his own fork. Lando tapped his fingertips on the table.
“Just ask Lando. Otherwise you’ll be pacing around like a crazy person.” Ethan says, looking at max who completed ignored the conversation “He should just text her, right max?”
Max looks up “Sure. But don’t be surprised if you get a ‘Oh I would never!’ Why would she tell him the truth?” Ethan raised an eyebrow “Mate. I have no idea what your problem is with her, but it’s gotta stop.”
“I don’t have a problem”
“Sure. And lando drives for ferrari” Max rolls his eyes while lando stared at him “I’ll text her.”
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Lando sets his phone down and looks at his friends “She says they’re friends.” Max pushed his plate away from him “That’s what everybody says.” Ethan now rolled his eyes “What is it with you and trying to make them seem like a couple? You’re a grumpy little gremlin.”
“I’m not. It’s obvious he likes her.” “Why do you care so much?” “I don’t. It’s just right lando knows, no?” Ethan sighs “I’m sure she’d have her reasons for not telling him”
“I just want her to be honest with me. Have I ever made her feel like she can’t trust me? I just want her to be happy” Lando sighs and sits back in his chair “Even if it’s one of my friends.” Max eyed him for a moment and clenched his jaw.
Before ethan could reply another message came through on Landos phone. Oliver had sent him a link.
-
f1gossip
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289.649 likes
f1gossip Former redbull driver Daniel Riccardo and Lando Norris sister, Yn have been spotted looking rather cosy around australia. Could there be more than a simply friendship between the two?👀
user omg they would kinda be a good fit
user does lando know this?😭
user They’re cute
-
Lando stares at his phone in disbelief. Have you been lying to him? Since when has this been going on? Why would you lie?
Ethan looks concerned “Lando?” Lando looks up and flips his phone for the other two to see. Max raises his eyebrows and leans back “Told you.”
“She..” He sets his phone down rather defeated. Max clenched his jaw and stared at the window in the restaurant. You wouldn’t go for daniel, right? He had no right to wonder tho. You had moved on. He could still remember the hurt in your eyes when he had brought his ex girlfriend over that day.
The way you visibly shrunk in size. The way you were simply quiet. No one noticed. Except for him. He noticed every little thing. Every mood change. He studied every feature of yours, but he would never admit that.
So he sits there, staring at the window, wondering what could’ve been.
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soooo, I really like this.. would anyone want a part 2?
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cha-melodius · 24 hours ago
Note
I am so here for these ficlets !! 🥰🥰
27 + firstprince, please ❣️ Merci ❣️❣️
(Also for @firenati0n. I told myself I was going to keep these below 1k. This one is 999 words. 😂 Also inspired by fanart that I will link at the end so as not to spoil the reveal. read all the hug ficlets)
27: The hug that has them clinging onto you for dear life. 
Two years into their friendship, and one year into their time as flatmates (and approximately one year and three hundred sixty-four days after he first fell in love), Henry finally convinces Alex to go sailing with him.
“I promise, you’ll be safe,” Henry tells him, for the thousandth time, as they stand on the dock. The small sailboat bobs next to it, more stout than Henry would usually rent, but perfect for today.
Alex shoots him his one-thousandth sceptical look. “What if I fall in?”
“We’ll be wearing these,” Henry tells him, brandishing a bright red life jacket in front of him.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I’m ready,” Alex says.
Henry can’t help but deflate. “Look, I won’t force you, but I really think you’ll enjoy it. And in a tub like this, we won’t even get wet.”
Chewing on his lower lip, Alex stares down at the boat. “Promise?”
That’s probably a silly promise to make—they’ll be on a small boat, after all, quite close to the water, but Henry makes it anyway. Finally, he gets Alex into the life jacket, shrugs his own on, and steps into the little boat, which rocks under his weight. He holds out a hand to help Alex in, which Alex stares at for an excruciating minute before he finally takes it.
Of course, Alex doesn’t know how to get into a boat, which means the moment he steps past the gunwale, the boat lurches to one side and Henry ends up with Alex clinging to him for dear life, holding onto Henry’s jacket with a white-knuckle grip as he presses his body as close to Henry’s as physically possible.
“It’s ok, love, you’re alright,” Henry laughs, curling one arm around Alex as he uses the other to hold onto the rigging. He’s certainly not complaining; if he thought this would happen, he might have pressed to go out on the boat earlier.
“I’m only staying because I can’t move or I’ll fall out,” Alex huffs, glaring up at him.
“You’re not going to fall out,” Henry insists. “And if you do, I’ll come rescue you.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “My hero.”
In the end—once they get underway and Henry convinces him to stop white knuckling the sides of the boat—Alex slowly relaxes. In fact, for someone who almost religiously avoids the water, he looks surprisingly at home out here with the sea breeze tousling his curls. They’d packed a picnic lunch, so Henry drops the sails and lets them bob aimlessly in the sound while they eat, and it’s really lovely. Henry’s ready to mark this down as a resounding success, at least until he goes to raise the jib and finds it caught on something.
“Stay here, I’ll be back shortly,” he tells Alex, then climbs up to the bow and sets to work untangling the knot that his lines have gotten themselves into.
It takes longer than he expects, and when he turns back, he sees Alex standing at the stern, one hand on a stay, just staring into the ocean. Henry’s so distracted by the sight of him that he doesn’t notice the motorboat’s approach until it goes rocketing past them at far too close a range, sending a massive wave careening toward their boat. Henry calls out to Alex, but it’s too late—he watches, as if in slow motion, as the boat heaves in the wake and sends Alex toppling over the side.
“Alex!” Henry yells again as he scrambles desperately toward the stern, only to find the life jacket bobbing in the water. Empty.
It takes no more than the length of a breath for Henry to shuck his own jacket and dive in. The water is clear for the first few meters, but there’s no sign of Alex near the boat. His lungs scream as he kicks deeper, desperation thrumming in his veins.
He sees a flash of iridescent red, like the fins of something large, out of the corner of his eye, which is as good a sign as any that he’s running out of oxygen. There’s no fish that’s red like that up here. He doesn’t want to, but he has little choice—Henry claws his way to the surface and gulps air, screaming Alex’s name even though it’s probably pointless.
But then—
Something brushes his shoulder, and a familiar voice murmurs, “Henry, sweetheart, stop,” and Henry spins around to see Alex bobbing effortlessly in the waves. The fact that he’s not even treading water barely registers, because Henry’s too busy pulling him close, and it’s his turn to hold on for dear life lest Alex slip beneath the surface again.
“Oh my god, Alex, I thought I’d lost you,” he nearly sobs. “Come on, we have to get you out—”
Alex laughs, an odd musical quality to it. “Little late for that,” he says ruefully.
He pulls back, a hesitant look on his face, and a moment later a red, finned tail emerges from the water next to him.
“You’re—” Henry gasps. “You’re a mermaid.”
“Merman, actually,” Alex corrects as Henry swims close to him again. He can’t fight the to urge reach out toward Alex’s tail, mesmerized by the iridescent scales, and he sees Alex frown out of the corner of his eye. “You’re not scared of me?”
“No,” Henry says. “Why would I be? You’re beautiful. I mean, you've always been beautiful, but this…” When Alex doesn’t pull away, he cautiously strokes his fingers along one of Alex’s fins, and when he looks back he finds Alex watching him raptly. “You’re incredible, love.”
Alex’s tail slips beneath the surface, but he reaches out with both hands, grabs Henry’s face, and pulls him into a kiss that makes Henry’s blood sing in his veins. And Henry might not know how any of this works, but he’s completely sure that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep Alex in his life—and in his arms—forever.
(Loosely inspired by this art from @shirmirart, namely the Alex in the tub one—I envision that moment as coming later, back at their apartment, after Henry finds out about Alex)
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little-diable · 10 hours ago
Text
This distance between us - Dean Winchester (smut)
I think we’d all give a lot for a chance to text with Dean like (y/n) does in this, just saying. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. Xxx
Summary: The reader lives in Europe while Dean is in the US, but that doesn’t stop the two from sharing their longings and needs over text.
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, sexting
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.7k words)
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She had her eyes focused on her phone, lower lip pulled between her teeth. It had been a few days since she’d last heard from him, leaving her to wonder if he was thinking of her at all. Perhaps she’d give it a few more days to see if he’d reach out first, but just the thought of him made (y/n) lose all strength and focus.
There was an ocean resting between them, and yet she craved his closeness as if he had last touched her hours ago. (Y/n) had to clench her thighs together at the mere thought of him, feeling her walls clench around nothing - all while her mind began to paint yet another vivid picture.
God, she needed him as if he was the only thing keeping her sane. She’d do everything for him, no matter what Dean asked of her. It had only been this very morning when she had last touched herself to the thought of him, fingers rubbing her pulsing bundle while his name had clawed itself out of her.
With a sound that was torn between a sigh and a whine, (y/n) began to type out her message, hoping that he’d answer. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” - it was a simple message and yet it was enough to get him to reply within a handful of minutes. A grin began to tug on her lips as she read his reply, unable to stop her laugh from leaving her.
“Well, lucky me. What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” For a moment, (y/n) debated turning this into a different direction, not wanting to distract Dean while he was most likely out with Sam. But the anticipation and need thumping through her veins didn’t allow her to steer away from what she was craving.
“Those hands of yours.” God, she loved his hands, just the thought of them pushed her into soaring waves of arousal. Whenever she touched herself to the thought of him, (y/n) imagined his hands wrapped around her throat, pinning her to the mattress while he fucked her all through the night.
“Mhm, where would you want my hands to touch you?” The message was followed by a picture, forcing her breath to hitch in her chest while she stared at it. Dean was laying on a bed, shirtless with only a pair of sweats on, and his veiny hand was resting on his still covered cock.
(Y/n) shuffled around on her bed, flopping onto her stomach to take a picture. She was wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a shirt, allowing her to snap a picture of her ass before sending it to him with a simple, “Maybe here?”
With an excited giggle, she rolled onto her back, watching the three dots appear as Dean typed out his reply. She tried to ignore the pulsing between her thighs and the feeling of her arousal soaking her panties, wanting to drag this out because she knew that it would most likely take days until they’d text again.
“Fuck. My handprint would look good on that beautiful ass of yours.” (Y/n)’s thumbs hovered over the screen, sinking further into the mattress while she pondered over her reply. She put the phone down next to her as she pulled her shirt over her head to snap a picture of her chest. She covered most parts of her breasts with her arms, set on teasing Dean for a bit longer before he’d see more of her.
“I want to feel your hands on them as well.” Was he already touching himself? Was he fisting his cock while he typed out his reply? (Y/n) couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking of, craving to hear those thoughts she prayed she was a part of.
“God damn, sweetheart. What other things would you want me to do?” Another picture found its way to her, Dean was no longer wearing his sweats, only his underwear was now covering his hardening cock, perfectly showing off his outline.
“Tell me first what you would want to do to me.” She had to hold back a giggle, loving to toy with Dean while she could almost hear the frustrated groan leaving him.
“I’d bring you to your knees and fill every inch of your throat. Let you choke on me until your eyes water.” (Y/n) felt heat crawl all the way up to her cheeks at his text. She had lost count on the amount of times where she had imagined this happening, wanting to kneel for him while she sucked him off, all to hear those raspy sounds of his.
Before she could find the right words to reply with, he had texted her again, “Touch yourself, sweetheart. I want to hear those pretty moans you always make for me.”
Her fingers found their way to her heat, feeling her arousal sticking to her inner thighs as she pulled her damp panties down her legs. With trembling digits she began to rub her pulsing bundle while she pressed down on the screen to record a voice message.
“Dean, fuck,” a whimper left her, followed by a breathy moan. “I wish you were here with me, I need to feel you.”
Dean instantly listened to the voice message, making her stare at the screen in anticipation. Her fingers kept moving, not daring to use too much pressure just yet.
“I don’t think you’re ready for the things I’d do to you. But you’d look so pretty riding me, while I get my hands all over your perfect tits and watch the look on your face when you feel how deep I go.” The words were followed by a raspy moan, telling (y/n) that he was also touching himself. She felt empty, needing to be stuffed by his cock while taking every inch, slowly adjusting to him as her glassy eyes would stare up at his handsome face.
Thousands of miles away, Dean struggled with similar thoughts. He’d give a lot to have (y/n) close, wanting to spend every second with her while fucking her whenever she was aching for him. He fucked his hand to the thoughts of what he’d do to her almost daily, chasing one orgasm after another with his mind set on her.
Dean kept stroking his cock, using just enough pressure to let his head roll back for a second, eyes fluttering close. (Y/n) made him want to do unspeakable things to her, things that made him hard at the mere thought of them. She was perfect, everything he needed in his life if it weren’t for the distance currently resting between them.
“I bet your fingers would feel so much better than mine, Dean. Fuck, I need you inside of me, please.” The breathy “please” she spoke almost tipped him over the edge, high on the way (y/n) begged for his touch. He knew that he’d stretch her all too well, forcing whines and gasps out of her as she took every inch of him.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned, knowing that she was all about the raspiness of his voice, “you’d feel so perfect wrapped around me, taking my cock like you were made for me.”
Another throaty moan left Dean as his hand moved faster, picturing her on top of him with those perfect tits he needed to bury his head in before fucking them. Dean knew that (y/n) would allow him to use her in any way he was craving, a toy to use for those moments where his arousal would swap through him like high waves of the icy ocean set on drowning every doubt lingering inside his mind. She was his risk, a risk he was all too willing to take if it meant he’d eventually have her by his side.
A video was sent as her reply, making his mouth grow dry. He opened it, hearing her whimpers and the wet sounds her touch made as she fucked herself with her fingers. The video didn’t show much, but the movement of her fingers was enough for Dean to imagine them to be his own. He’d take his time, drag out every moment to make her forget her own name.
Without thinking twice, Dean recorded a few seconds of him stroking his cock, showing off the veins she’d trace with her tongue, the inches she’d struggle to take with her lips wrapped around him. His cock twitched, knowing that he was close to painting his hand white with his cum while her name would roll off of his tongue.
(Y/n) was just as close, whining his name with her eyes focused on the video she kept playing again and again. His veiny hand looked perfect wrapped around that pretty cock of his, guided by those sounds that made her lose her focus. Her walls fluttered around her fingers, clenching them as her orgasm began to clash through her.
She sent one last voice message, repeating his name over and over again before a high pitched moan left her. Her orgasm was violent, shaking through her body as if it was set on getting her to pass out. Dean replied with a similar voice message, letting go of a few raspy fucks before he came with a groan, dragging out his orgasm while his hand kept pumping his cock.
Both were heavily panting, imagining the other resting on the mattress next to them to take care of one another. (Y/n) gave it a few moments before she began to type another message with shaking fingers, “I hope we’ll get to do this in person soon. I hate the distance between us.”
“We will, sweetheart. You know I’d move heaven and hell for you.”
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endwersed · 1 day ago
Text
WIP Wednesday
Tagged in (a little while ago) by the brilliant @violetfairydust & @crownofstardustandbone ✨
I'm still working through the first draft of my next fic, call it off - a high school AU with closeted jock Derek and out loser Stiles. Lots of angst can be expected, and here's a little snippet of some 😄
-
Behind Stiles, the hinges of the bathroom door creak, not a knock or a word before it opens slowly, before somebody comes right in and does not immediately flee upon finding the room already occupied. He grits his teeth, his eyes screwing shut so hard colour dances behind his eyelids, and crushes his fingers white-knuckle tight around the edge of the sink.
“Someone’s already in here,” he says.
No response. No cowed footsteps of retreat, either. Just the hinges of the door sounding once again, the snick as it shuts firmly and locks whoever that fucking is inside here with him.
“Dude,” he says, a harsh snap to his voice, “I just fucking said. Someone’s already in –”
He lifts his head, opens his eyes, and spies the intruder through the mirror. His warning cuts off with an abrupt click of his teeth, the pit of his stomach sinking right down to his feet as his eyes lock with none other than Derek fucking Hale, those sharp features dark and twisted in that unmistakable reflection.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Derek says.
There is nothing that Stiles can do to stymie the sudden, incredulous laugh that barks right out of him. He spins quickly in place, hands flying up into the air as he moves, wild and trembling as they hover out in front of him, his head already shaking as he snags Derek’s eye once again.
“The fuck, man?” He lets his hands crash back down to slap against his thighs. “Did you fucking follow me?”
“Yes,” Derek says, instant and flat and entirely unrepentant, even as Stiles’ eyes practically bug right out of his skull. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”
“Um, I’m using the bathroom,” Stiles snarks, eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead as he flings an arm out to gesture around the room. “Which isn’t something I really need your help with, actually. So you can, you know – get the fuck out.”
A muscle ticks at the notch of Derek’s jaw, his hands already curled into tight fists at his sides. His eyes are locked onto Stiles, unrelenting, as he takes a single, small step forwards. It is still enough to send Stiles reeling backwards, stumbling over his own feet to get away, the edge of the sink jutting painfully at the base of his spine.
Derek stops. It does not even look like he is breathing. His shoulders are squared rigid and back, the corded muscle of his forearms tensed to prominent attention. A slow, ragged exhale pushes out from his flared nostrils.
“You’re only talking to that guy to piss me off,” he grits out.
Stiles’ jaw practically hits the floor, his head already swinging in disbelief. His breathes are coming out hard and fast, his nails scratching into the rough denim of his jeans, his heart pounding the beat of an unsteady drum against the brittle bones of his ribcage.
“You’re unbelievable,” he says, a nasty curl to his lip. “I’m talking to him because he’s hot, and he’s single, and he’s not ashamed to admit who he really fucking is. That’s more than I can say for you, asshole.”
“He probably just wants to fuck you,” Derek sneers.
“Well, yippee,” Stiles laughs, high and harsh and hollow. “I guess that means me and him want the same fucking thing, doesn’t it?”
It has exactly the intended effect. Derek’s face falls into something gutted, something cracked right open, raw and vulnerable. Stiles slides his gaze up to the ceiling, a burn at the back of his eyes that he will not pay heed to, anything so that he won’t have to see that expression on Derek for even a moment longer.
“You… you left.” Stiles’ voice is quiet, broken already on those two words alone. “You just… left me there. You messed around with me, spewed all this bullshit about how much you like me, and then you fucking… you ran away.” He pauses, a shudder of choked breath catching in his throat. “You said it was a mistake. You said it was wrong.”
“It was wrong,” Derek snaps, his words fast, urgent. “Don’t you get it? I – I had to leave.”
Stiles flicks his hard gaze down from the ceiling. He meets Derek’s lost, pale eyes.
“Then leave,” he says, nowhere near as steadily as he wants to. “Stop chasing after me. Let me talk to whoever I want, to Luke or to – or to whoever the fuck, I don’t know. You leave me, and I’ll leave you, and we can both just get on with our fucking lives.”
He does not let another second pass before he pushes himself away from the sink, a jerk of his body to propel him forwards, intent on shoving right past Derek, knocking right through him. But he finds himself caught, finds himself stopped, by the too-tight clamp of Derek’s fingers gripping at his arm, curling around his elbow and digging harshly, desperately, in.
Their faces are far, far closer than they should be as they stare at one another. The space between them is filled with ragged, meshing, panting breaths.
“Don’t do anything with him,” Derek whispers.
It sounds like a plea as it slips softly from Derek’s mouth. Stiles shuts his eyes against its sincerity and rips his arm out of Derek’s entreating hold.
“That’s not really any of your fucking business, is it?” he spits. “So just… just fuck off, Derek. Go back to your girlfriend. Leave me alone and go back to your fucking girlfriend.”
-
No pressure tags! @anothersigh @dear-massacre @eevylynn @heavensenthale @like-lazarus 🩷
@lucky-bishop @okdeannawrites @patolemus @raisesomehale @renmackree 🩷
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crowsofdarkness · 3 days ago
Text
Moment Of Weakness: Seventeen
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-gif not mine. credit to owner-
Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.
Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?
Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!
Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066
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Monday morning came before I was ready to face it but I knew that there wasn’t any way I would be able to stay home, avoiding my problems, for much longer. My mind had been jumbled with thoughts of Bucky and Steve which made my decision way harder than I would have liked it to be. What did help, however, was that I didn’t hear from either of them the last couple of days, both giving me space when I needed it most. 
Now, the half block walk from where I parked my car to the office building gave me time to think even more about the two men. 
Steve.
He was a breath of fresh air, something different and inviting. He never once judged me for what I was doing with Bucky. He never said he knew but didn’t have too. Steve was nice from day one when I started and our relationship grew slowly over time and it would be stupid not to give him a chance. 
Bucky.
Bucky was everything that I had been wanting for so long, he’s the one that my heart yearns for when I’m not around him. He’s the one that I think of the second I put my head down for the night and the second I rise from the bed.
While there was chemistry when Steve and I kissed, it was alway different with Bucky. 
My heart rate would accelerate, pounding all throughout my body while my knees would go weak, unable to stand. There was so much fire and intensity with something unknown hidden behind every one of Bucky’s kisses. I couldn’t explain it, it merely kept me wanting more.  
However, there still was the fact that Bucky was married and unable to fully commit to me one hundred percent while Steve was ready to give himself to me; in more ways than one. 
In the end, someone was going to get hurt and I was willing for it to be me so neither Bucky nor Steve would fall prey to it. 
As I turned the corner, Barnes Industries coming into view, I felt a burning gaze at the back of my head which caused me to turn on my heels. Eyes scanned the busy street, other people getting ready to start their own work day, and when no one seemed out of place, I continued the short walk to the front door. 
Only now, the burning intensified and I quickly spun around, this time catching a petite woman dart down the alley a couple feet away from me. 
“What the fuck,” I muttered with furrowed brows. 
When I turned back around, I collided with a large chest, feet stumbling back and I prepared myself to fall onto the concrete. Strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell. 
His eyes bored into mine and my body went rigid with fear. 
“Cl-clint.” I stammered. 
Clint helped me stand up straight and made a mockery of dusting my shoulders off. 
“You should really watch where you’re going, Y/N. You never know who you might run into, literally.” 
My lips were pulled in a straight line, too afraid to speak a word, and I did the best I could to move past him through the crowded streets. Two gazes were burning a hole into the back of my head but I didn’t bother to look back and see, knowing who one of them belonged to. 
“Shit.” 
“Oh fuck!” 
A small scream fell from my lips when I collided with yet another body, only this one I felt safe in their embrace as his vibranium hand captured my lower back. Bucky’s blue eyes watching me with concern. 
“Doll? Are you alright?” 
I shook my head, blinking away a few tears that pooled in my eyes. Bucky looked around before pulling me further inside of the building, helping me sit in the chair at my desk. 
He kneeled in front of me, placing a hand on my cheek. “Hey, what happened?” 
“I felt as if someone was watching me when I was walking in. I got distracted trying to see who and ended up walking into Clint. There’s no way that he would be in your neighborhood for the hell of it, right?” 
Bucky’s shoulders went rigid, a low scowl on his lips. “Only to scare you.” 
I shook my head. “I thought you paid off the hit?” 
“I did,” he nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to scare you.” 
“Well, it worked,” I sniffled. 
With both of his hands around the back of my neck, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, the action calming my shaking bones immediately. 
“Maybe I should go home. He doesn't know where I live,” I said. 
As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help but question that statement. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he knew where I lived. 
“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, that way I can make sure you’re safe,” Bucky replied. 
I nodded, knowing he was right. 
We stared at each other, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as Bucky began to lean in closer and even with the fire burning low in my abdomen, I let out a small cough to put some distance between us. 
“I think I’m going to make some coffee, get my mind off what happened.” 
“Sure,” Bucky gave me a forced smile and slowly pulled away. “I’ll be in my office and have the door open if you need anything.” 
I didn’t bother to see the small look of hurt across his face as I removed myself from his grasp. 
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Who was that woman? Something about her screamed familiar but I never got a good look at her face. 
I mulled those same thoughts in my mind as I stood in front of the coffee maker, teeth caught between my teeth, trying to figure out who that mystery woman was that darted into the alley when I caught her following me. 
“Maybe she works with Clint,” I muttered to myself, pouring a rather large cup of coffee. 
My third one in a few hours. 
The morning slowly spilled into the early afternoon and I had done a great job in avoiding Bucky and Steve, not ready to face the latter. Though, I knew that at some point I would have to talk to him, to let him know how I felt. 
“Hey,” a soft voice sounded behind me. 
Fuck, I didn’t mean right now.
I sighed, giving Steve a small smile. “Hi.” 
“Bucky told me what happened,” Steve said while running a hand through his hair. 
“I’m okay,” I assured him, noticing how worried he was. “Clint didn’t hurt me.” 
“I promise you, I paid him off. Bucky handed me the money and I brought it to Clint’s house. He gave me his word that the hit is off,” he assured me. 
I gave him a firm nod. “Steve, you don’t need to prove yourself. I believe you.” 
His shoulders relaxed a bit before I felt his fingers grasp at my own, pulling me towards his office. “Can we talk, in private?” 
Biting the inside of my cheek, I knew that this conversation would happen eventually and now would be the best time to get it over with. No more avoiding it. 
“Sure.” 
I let Steve gently pull me into his office and once the door was closed, he motioned for the couch that sat in place on the other end of the room. We both sat, with some distance between us. 
He ran a hand over his beard and let out a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. You’re going through a lot right now and I shouldn’t have added more by kissing you.” 
I place a hand on his knee. “I wanted that kiss just as much as you did, Steve.” 
His face brightened. “You did?” 
“Yeah. We’ve been doing this dance for months now, it was only a matter of time.” 
Steve sighed. “But-.” 
My heart stung when I realized he had a hint of what I was going to say, his tone of voice sounding so broken. 
This time I linked our hands together. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to be with you if I’m not 100 percent committed to you. You don’t deserve that.” 
Steve’s blue eyes twinkled under the light from his office. “But you do?” 
I blinked, a bit caught off guard, and didn’t know how to answer him only because he was right. Why did I deserve to be with someone that wasn’t committed to me? 
“I can’t explain it,” I admitted with a shrug. “There’s something about him that it’s hard to let go.” 
Steve lifted my chin when I looked down ashamed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Y/N. I’m used to losing girls to Buck.” 
“Do you hate me?” I asked with a shaky breath. 
“I could never hate you.” 
We gazed into each other's eyes and even with the magnetic pull I felt bringing me in closer to him, I fought against it by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. 
“You’re a good man, Rogers,” I breathed against his skin. 
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The bright glow of the moon spilled through the large windows of the building and with a low breath, I packed up my things purposely taking my time. I had to leave, go home for the night, but I was afraid of walking to my car alone with what happened this morning. 
Steve had left a few hours ago, with a quick wave but broken eyes, and it did nothing to mend the hurt I felt in my stomach. It made me sick, knowing I caused him that pain. 
I glanced over to the office behind me, the man lounging on his couch with his head resting against the back of it, eyes shut in quiet solace. 
We spent the majority of the day avoiding each other but now that I needed to ask him a huge favor, I wasn’t quite sure on how Bucky would answer. 
A gentle tap sounded on the frame of his door causing him to open his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips. 
“Headed out?” Bucky nodded to my purse and jacket. 
I nodded. “I know I’ve been avoiding you all day so feel free to say no.” 
With his own nod, I continued. “Would you mind walking me to my car?” 
“Of course, doll.” 
Bucky’s smile warmed my heart and I waited patiently as he slipped on his leather jacket. “Ready?” 
“Yea,” I smiled. 
The cold night air wrapped around us and I made an effort to bring my jacket closer to me, in hope of creating some sort of heat. Bucky noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. The warmth that radiated from him quickly spread to my own body and I silently moaned at the feeling. 
“Bucky?” 
My voice was quiet but he still heard, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “You alright, doll?” 
We came to a stop in front of my car and I avoided leaving; not before telling him exactly how I felt about everything. 
My palm rested against his cheek, his plump lips pressing a kiss upon the skin there and the butterflies that laid dormant the last few days began to flutter to life. 
“I don’t want to get hurt,” I said. 
Bucky nodded in my grasp. “I don’t want to hurt you, doll.” 
“I like you a lot, Bucky.” 
He quickly brought me closer to him, our nose grazing against one another. 
“The feelings are mutual.” 
His voice was deep which made my core itch with desire. 
Bucky began digging around in his pocket and placed a small, white card in my hand. As the words burned into my brain, my lips curled up in a smile.
Matt Murdock. New York’s Best Divorce Lawyer.
“A divorce?” I questioned, with so much optimism. 
He answered my question by capturing our lips together, his own feeling so soft and tasted like the bourbon I saw him drink earlier in the night. Our bodies molded together, as they always did, and I nibbled on his bottom lip when he pulled away. 
“I’m hoping by the end of the month she’ll be served with the papers.” 
Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You’re really leaving her?” 
Vibranium fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For you, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. The mere thought of possibly losing you to Steve was a wake up call. I can’t lose you and I will do anything to keep you.” 
Our lips met in yet another heated kiss, Bucky pushing me up against the cold metal of my car and I looped my fingers into the belt loops of his pants to bring him closer to me, needing that reminder of how his cock felt pressed against me. 
We were so engrossed in each other, our possible future together, that neither of us felt the burning eyes from the figure that lingered in the darkness. 
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wonboni · 10 hours ago
Text
CUPID➶ Y.JUNGWON
∝cupid is so dumb
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『•˙synopsis: even after endless of hints your best friend still can’t seem to know that you like him.
『∙˙pairing: bsf! Yang jungwon x fem reader
『•˙genre: fluff,crack,best friends to lovers,a tiny bit of angst
『•˙word count: 1.3k
『•˙warnings: jungwon is clueless,reader is kinda hurt
『•˙note: jungwon is so cute in these pics
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It’s a familiar kind of agony. A slow, sweet kind of pain that begins in your chest, spreads up your throat, and lodges itself in your head like an annoying song on repeat. You, of course, know exactly what’s going on. You’ve known for months, maybe longer, and yet—despite the loud, blaring signals you've been sending—you’re still stuck in this strange, frustrating limbo.
You’re in love with your best friend, Yang Jungwon. But the worst part? He’s completely and utterly clueless.
It all started innocently enough. The two of you were just two souls thrown together by fate, surviving high school with nothing but each other. Your days were spent with inside jokes, shared glances, and too many hours of studying together. But somewhere between laughing over silly memes and walking home from school, you started noticing little things. The way Jungwon smiled at you, the way his eyes lit up whenever you spoke, the way his voice always softened when he called your name.
And that was when you knew. You were in love with him.
But there was one big problem. Jungwon, your oblivious, socially dense best friend, had absolutely no idea.
At first, you tried to convince yourself that he might just be shy. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move. So, you dropped hints—big ones, small ones, subtle ones, and blatant ones—but it was as though you were speaking in a language he couldn’t understand.
---
It was a typical afternoon when the latest disaster occurred. You and Jungwon were sitting in your favorite spot at the local café, slouched over a pair of textbooks. You weren’t really studying, though; you were too busy focusing on the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped the table, how his messy hair framed his face perfectly, and how his lips... Oh, his lips.
You couldn’t help but stare. Maybe you could’ve sworn you were being subtle about it, but honestly, your heart was in your throat, and your stomach was doing flips.
"Hey," you said, your voice slightly wobbly. "Do you think we’d look good together?" You immediately winced at your own words. Was that too forward?
Jungwon didn’t even look up. Instead, he continued scribbling on his notebook, his brow furrowing in concentration.
“Look good together… like, as study partners?” he asked, looking so genuinely confused you almost choked on your own breath.
You blinked. Was that seriously his response? "No," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "Like… together. As a couple."
Jungwon paused. For a moment, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. Then, with all the seriousness of a boy trying to solve a math problem, he scratched his head.
"I don’t know. I mean, we’d probably make a pretty good team, right?" He laughed awkwardly, as if the very idea of the two of you being together was as natural as teaming up for a project.
Your heart plummeted.
"Yeah, we would," you said with a strained smile, hoping he didn’t see the hurt in your eyes.
He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.
---
Later that evening, as you walked home together, you couldn’t help but feel defeated. Jungwon was humming something, happily oblivious to your inner turmoil. You wanted to scream at him, ask him why he couldn’t just *get it*, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk losing your friendship. Not when the thought of him in any other capacity was so far out of reach.
You were just... stuck.
“I don’t get it,” you muttered under your breath, almost too quietly for him to hear.
“What’s that?” Jungwon asked, not even turning to look at you.
You shook your head. “Never mind.”
“Come on, you can tell me,” he said with that warm smile of his, the one that always made your heart do somersaults. “You know I’m always here to listen.”
It took everything in you not to spill your feelings right then and there. You could already picture it—his confusion, his awkward silence, the way he would likely laugh it off like some joke. So, instead, you let out a bitter laugh and gave him a small, nonchalant wave.
“Just thinking about how ridiculous I am sometimes.”
“Hey, stop that.” Jungwon nudged your shoulder with his. “You’re not ridiculous.”
You stared straight ahead, not daring to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, but it was painfully telling.
---
A week passed, and Jungwon’s cluelessness only grew more pronounced. In fact, you were beginning to wonder if he was living in a different dimension entirely. There was one instance where you thought for sure he would catch on.
You were walking home from school together again, and the air was getting colder. Your hands were frozen in your pockets, and you decided to try one more last-ditch effort.
“Jungwon,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “What would you do if someone confessed to you?”
He looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Like... a confession confession?”
“Yeah,” you said, playing it cool. “Like, if someone told you they liked you, what would you do?”
He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I don’t know... depends on who it is, I guess.”
Your stomach flipped. You could feel your heartbeat rising. This was it. The moment you’d been waiting for.
You pushed yourself to ask, “What if it was... someone you really liked?”
Jungwon blinked at you, then let out a small, nervous laugh. “I’d probably ask them if they were sure, and if they were, then… I guess I’d go for it?” He gave you a confused smile. “Why do you ask?”
Your heart sank. “Oh, no reason.”
---
Finally, one evening, as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, Netflix playing in the background but neither of you paying attention, you decided to confront it head-on. You were tired of playing this foolish game. Tired of wondering, *What if?*
“Jungwon,” you said, voice small but determined. “I have to tell you something.”
He paused the video, turning to face you with a look of concern in his eyes. “What is it?”
You bit your lip. This was it. You had to say it. You had to say the words that had been swirling in your heart for so long.
“I like you,” you whispered, hoping the weight of the confession would finally force him to see what had been right in front of him the whole time.
Jungwon blinked, his eyes widening as though he hadn’t expected this at all. Then, without skipping a beat, he smiled that ridiculous, adorable smile of his and said, “Of course you do! You’re my best friend. I like you too. We’ve been friends forever!”
You froze. “No, no, Jungwon. I mean I like *like* you. Like, in a way more than friends.”
For a moment, he stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. Then the gears in his brain started to turn. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again.
“Wait… like, *that* kind of like?” he stammered, his face now flushed pink.
You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and hope. “Yeah. That kind of like.”
Jungwon’s eyes widened further, and then—finally, after what felt like an eternity—he grinned, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes.
“Wait, so... this whole time? When you kept dropping hints... you were serious?” He burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were just messing with me!”
“Jungwon!” you groaned, face burning. “You’re impossible!”
But Jungwon only chuckled and scooted closer to you, his expression softening into something much more tender. “I guess I’m kind of an idiot,” he admitted, “But... I think I like you, too.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do.” He smiled, his usual playful demeanor now replaced by something far more sincere. “Guess we’re both fools for love, huh?”
And just like that, the game was over.
And you, for the first time in what felt like forever, could finally breathe.
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©️ WONIBONI
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