#I thought this was a fan edit at first lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaysungshine · 4 months ago

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Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say.

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping.

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before.

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you.

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course, despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter.

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level.

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred.

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules.

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense."

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day."

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me."

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake.

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away, going back to facing Ji's door.

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

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sleepynoons · 4 months ago

Text

alhaitham x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: omegaverse (alpha!alhaitham + omega!reader), heat, knotting, massive massive MASSIVE breeding kink, impregnation kink, size kink, slight sadism/masochism (more masochism if anything), mentions of pain + hurt, marking + biting, fingering, squirting, unintentional edging (receiving), allusions to dubcon + objectification (but none of it actually), slight nipple play, implied marathon sex

notes: sighs,,, idk how i ended up convincing myself to write omegaverse,,, but i really had a lot of fun with this,,, anyway, i love being an alhaitham fucker, and i love it even more when he loses it and can't be his usual put-together self. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.

edit: 700+ notes?? y’all :((( i’m v touched and also cracking up lol omegaverse ig checks out - but tyssssm for all the love!! reminders that requests are still open (pls read my rules), and i’d love to have moots/anons!!!!

edit x2: 1,000+ notes... y'all... this is a massive milestone for me to hit - thank you so much for all the love on this lil drabble!! there's no amount of words that can describe how grateful i am, truly.

“ALHAITHAM, FASTER!”

you’re whining, sobbing, desperately begging your lover. anything will do – he can even just lie back and let you bounce up and down on his cock. but you’re only in such a frenzied, lucid state because of your heat. alhaitham, on the other hand, is a few weeks out from his next rut, which means he is able to think about what’s rationally best for you.

you’re infuriated. you need more. you need him to mount onto you, pounding and thrusting into you until you’re screaming for him to stop, and even then, he’ll continue to push you over the edge over and over again until you’re a sticky, fucked out doll. the fire in your belly is burning so passionately, and while you would say something snarky or sarcastic to rile alhaitham up, you can barely carry a thought and can only dig your fingernails into his biceps to convey your impatience.

your lover grunts at the piercing sensation and, through gritted teeth, says, “you just started your heat. rushing through it will only hurt you and lengthen your recovery process.”

you groan at his response, overtly dissatisfied and restless. alhaitham’s response is… it’s just so typical of him. he’s detail-oriented, almost scientific in the way he takes care of you. this isn’t your first heat with him, and he’s learned from prior experiences how to ensure your safety and comfort. in fact, the two of you now follow a procedure to prepare for your heat that consists of: gathering all of your favorite snacks and drinks; washing and prepping all of the pillows, clothes, and blankets you’ll need for your nest; and most importantly, figuring out a polite way of telling kaveh that he’s getting “sexiled.”

but this is overkill, you scream in your head. in missionary, alhaitham is going at a steady pace, but what he doesn’t know and can’t feel is that he’s edging you. he’s fanning the flames of your arousal yet never helping you reach the peak. he’s stimulating you at your most sensitive spots and parts, but it’s not enough for your release. he’s torturing you, and he can’t even tell.

“alhaitham,” you cry out for the nth time. “please, please, please! i can’t take it anymore! i just - i need your cock! i need to cum! please, please, i beg you, i promise you i’ll be fine! alhaitham!”

you’re breaking down into tears. by instinct, your body releases more of your scent, and somewhere beyond your crying, your lover takes a deep inhale.

while alhaitham isn’t in his rut, that doesn’t mean he can’t lose control. he hopes you know that he’s doing his best for you, that he’s holding onto the last shreds of his willpower because, if otherwise, he doesn’t know what will become of you. he’s so much bigger, stronger, sturdier than you are, towering over you in both size and strength. he can be painfully forceful, and inflicting pain upon you is the last thing he wants to do.

but you’re sobbing uncontrollably. you’re defenseless yet pleading him to take you roughly, to break in your pussy with his heavy, leaking cock. you want him to use his force to placate your insatiable heat. you need him to overpower you.

he releases a long, shuddering sigh. he attempts to rationalize, consider the potential repercussions of giving in. but he soon realizes he can’t think. your addicting, heady scent, combined with the beautiful sounds of your moans and whimpers, are rendering his mind empty.

it’s pointless. he growls, “you asked for this.”

one second you’re weeping, and the next all of the air inside you is knocked out by a sudden, harsh thrust from alhaitham. he’s going so fast and hard now, cock head brushing against your womb while his balls and knot slap against your asshole. you feel your toes curl at the feeling of being split apart, and your mouth parts to voice salacious moans.

this is what you wanted. you feel your body relax. you just have to take it, take his fat cock bullying your cunt open, take his harsh bites and teething at your nipples, take his seed until you’re filled to the brim. in your mind, all you can think is, you’re his, you’re alhaitham’s, he wants you. the omega in you croons happily, and you’re every bit as delighted as well.

alhaitham grips onto your wrists tightly as he shoves himself into your tight, sticky walls over and over again. at one point, he flips you over, commanding you to raise your ass up higher. as he holds onto your hips, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle as he pounds into you, and he wants to lick down the beautiful curve of your back. you’re doing your best to stifle your screams because somehow, your lover is reaching even deeper, and the scraping of your breasts against the bedsheets is driving you mad.

then, you feel one of alhaitham’s hands reach down, brushing against the fat of your thighs. it’s inching dangerously close to your throbbing clit, and heat rushes up to your face.

“wait, alhaitham, no –“

your lover pinches your yearning bud, and you scream. wetness gushing everywhere, you’re squirting and creaming, white cum staining your lover’s cock and leaking out of your pussy. your eyes roll back, and you’ve lost all ability to control your body, which is absolutely shaking as alhaitham continue to rub and flick at your clit as he tries to squeeze his knot into your fluttering hole.

“oh, archons! alhaitham! stop! no, no, it’s too much! it can’t fit!”

alhaitham, still teasing and toying with your pussy, leans over and snarls into your ear, “you were just saying you wanted more. now you can’t take it?”

you’re wailing. you feel as if you’re being ripped apart at the seams. but the thought of alhaitham’s knot is just too delicious to pass on, so you don’t complain anymore. you just accept the waves of pain and pleasure that crash over you as alhaitham finally locks his knot inside you and bites down on your neck.

your lover groans loudly, lost in his delirium as well. after a few more shallow grinds, he reaches his own high, and you feel rope after rope of his cum fill you up. alhaitham’s cum is so warm and gooey and thick that you’re drooling and slobbering over the pillows at being filled up so thoroughly – impregnated – with it.

even as he’s still cumming, alhaitham bites on the shell of your ear and commands, “keep up, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

you can only whimper and fist the blankets even tighter at his command, bracing yourself for the next round.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham #al haitham x reader #alhaitham genshin #genshin alhaitham #carrot cake!

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n0thingbutlov3 · 5 months ago

Text

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 6 months ago

Text

ideal weekend, lando norris

summary: while fans stress about the fact that, following their breakup, the actress won't be there to witness the driver's first ever f1 win, y/n gets asked about her ideal weekend off in an interview and accidentally manifests it [actress!reader]

warnings: i think only very bad editing (i tried) and me bringing up yet another footballer i feel affection for for literally no reason

fc: madelyn cline

started this as something completely different from what it ended up being but i think i like it. i'd love it if you let me know what you think tho (((:

y/n.y/l

📍miami

Liked by rudeth and 1.059.326 others

y/n.y/l yet another victim of a @/maxverstappen1 win. had so much fun but i think i'll just stick to acting 🙃🙃🫠 thank you @/redbullracing for having me!!! <333

view all 2.071 comments

username at a red bull event? what happened to once a mclaren girl always a mclaren girl????

username this event was basically work for her ?? you ppl need to stop taking everything so personally omg

username professional SUPER FAST driver, part time actress ❤️ by author

username you're in miami the same week of the miami gp. coincidence? i think not 😌😌

username GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL

redbullracing Glad you had fun Y/n! Maybe we should start considering you for a guest appearance in our garage 😉

mclaren Thanks for the offer, Red Bull! But we've already got dibs on her 😉

username UM I HOPE THIS ISN'T A JOKE ??

username don't play with me like this admin!!

mclaren Don't worry. We won't hold this against you 🧡

y/n.y/l ily guys 🧡🧡🧡

username Ok cool now go finish season 4

username Why are u in Miami shouldn’t u be filming obx 4 😪

y/n.y/l side quest

username not the Y/n x F1 content I was hoping for but at this point I'll take what I can get

maxverstappen1 Next time I'll give you a head start. Enjoyed having you with us, Y/n 🫶

y/n.y/l there will definitely not be a next time but thanks tho!!!👍🏼 always a pleasure seeing you ❤️

username pretty 🩷

username Why is Max literally this🧍🏼‍♂️❤️ by author

landonorris Um what's this?

y/n.y/l 😶 not what it looks like

username seeing you two banter like this makes my heart ache 💔

username i'm never moving on from y/nlando sigh

username OBX S4 WHEN QUEEN

29 April 2024

mclaren added to their story

y/n.y/l

Liked by maxfewtrell and 1.890.345 others

y/n.y/l me and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER lando norris

view all 3.830 comments

username JUST WHEN I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN'T GET ANY BETTER OMFG

username formula 1 race winner lando norris has a nice ring to it 😉 ❤️ by author

username What a race, and what a win for Lando!!!

username IM LOSING IT YALL I JUST CHECKED OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BRIGHTON ALSO WON TODAY Y/N MANIFESTED HER IDEAL SUNDAY

username minus the relaxing part lol i know for a fact bestie was stressing in that garage

carlossainz55 It's great to see you back at a race! Missed having you around! ❤️

y/n.y/l thank you carlitos ❤️ wish i could've got to see you up there with lando

charles_leclerc ouch ? 🫤

y/n.y/l noooo, i didn't mean you!!! x

maxverstappen1 ouch?

y/n.y/l i did mean you. sorry /:

username are we back in 2022 and i didn't realise?????? not complaining at all tho

mclaren You and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris look amazing! 🧡 ❤️ by author

username admin definitely ships

username children of divorce rise !!!!!!! ❤️ by author

username u think u're so funny liking this @.y/n.y/n but we're actually hurting we want our mum back!!!

username seeing you celebrate with lando was everything 🥹🥹🥹

username when i tell you i sCREAMED !!!!!!

username Everything in the world has been healed due to this post

oscarpiastri Awesome that you could come watch. Missed you ❤️

y/n.y/l missed you more pastry boy ❤️❤️

username we were robbed from this friendship !!!😪

username can't believe how emotional I am seeing you two together at his big win

francisca.cgomes ❤️❤️❤️ ❤️ by author

username just realised i am not as over y/nlando as i thought i was. in fact i am not over y/nlando at all.

username well seeing you with FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris just hit me right in the feels💔

landonorris Thanks for being there to share the moment with us ❤️ ❤️ by author

landonorris Also I think after this you might now have to come to every race ever

y/n.y/l clearing my schedule as we speak 🫡

username i am so ready to be delusional

05 May 2024

#actress!reader #social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris social media au #lando norris imagine #instagram au #ln4 smau #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine

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alisheaburgess · 2 years ago

Text

The Death of 'Me': A Travel Memoir Part 1 of "yes"

April 4, 2022- On a Plane to Las Vegas

(Full Journey Map)

"I am currently on a fairly small plane, I would say. I get sooooo excited during take-off!!!! The plane is loud and the window has been white for a minute. My fingers are freezing 🥶 It's the air but...(nvm....I figured out how to fix it 😆)"

Hehehehe

This is what I was writing in my notes app during the initial leg of my first-ever solo trip last year. After this, I explained how I couldn't sleep or eat before leaving because I was so nervous. This was a special kind of nervous though. It was the feeling of being SO excited that you don't know how you actually feel, so it comes out as a happy fear 😂 I didn't explain it that way, but that's what I recognize it as now.

The funniest part of this journaling was that I had brought like 5-6 journals and they were in my carry-on at my feet. They were ridiculously heavy to carry around and here I was using my notes app in my phone. I do like that I could use the emojis though. Not that I don't draw my own in my actual journals, but this way I could tell what they were later 🤣

Spoiler: I never once wrote in any of the actual journals I brought and DO NOT recommend bringing your library on a trip with you. My shoulder hurt so bad 🤣

This was my soundtrack for the ENTIRE flight. Not because I had nothing else or anything. This just felt right. Had the vibe...

But all of this may seem quite ordinary and irrelevant. And it is. Because to be honest, I never wrote that with the intention of someone else ever hearing about it. It was for me to remember.

I have issues remembering major things that happen to me or just things in general. Especially the good things. This trip was so incredibly important to me and I was so scared that I would both- never get to experience it again, and not remember this time that I did get to go. Unfortunately, I was correct about not remembering, at least partially.

In fact, I only do remember because I went to great lengths to bring as much of this trip home as I possibly could. Memorable items, experiences, and recorded feelings like this journal bit. I plan to add them all together here and give a 'little' narrative while I go 😁

There are parts I didn't record anything and tried really hard to be in the moment and I have unfortunately lost those.

The only thing I am missing for this trip that would really cement the memory for me is someone to bounce it off of. I process things better with others and through connection. So that brings us here. Whether or not this gets read, I will be processing things better AND have another puzzle piece to help me remember. Each time I remember I went on this grand journey I am astounded as if it were someone else telling me of their adventure where they found the lost city. Like...Ma'am...it was Vegas...it's not that kinda lost... AND it was you...

But to me, it was a divine experience. That is so precious that I want nothing more than to be able to have this memory forever. Even if I have to remember it synthetically through my notes...

I did so many things that I had been convinced that I couldn't and wouldn't ever be able to do or take part in.

I am going to try and take my time and really go over the memories because I don't want to leave any pieces out that I will want to be in here later. I'm not sure how many posts I'll be using for it but...it was a week-long trip and as you can tell...I talk a lot...

I titled this as the 'Death of 'me' because it was the perminant end of the way my life had been playing out. Everything changed for me after that and I have been grieving(?) since. It felt a bit weird and didn't make sense for the majority of it. (I don't even want to begin to explain how I just tried to spell 'majority' 🙄)

So...

Here's to remembering that time that I DID THE THING!!!! 🥂

I listened to this song for the entire time that I was in the airport waiting. I got there about an hour and a half early...

I have full playlists too, I promise 😂🤣😅

There is more to come for sure. I just wanted to post something quick so I couldn't chicken out... Yay, I did it, hopefully... XD

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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago

Text

The Summoning

summary: so now you’re fucking your roommate on the regular, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just for the camera, right?

an: You guys!! I’m so so happy with the feedback if received for the first chapter of this fic, I want to give you guys as much camgirl!Ellie as I possibly can. So, as before, let’s keep this short and sweet so we can get into it, love you so so so much (also shout out to everyone’s comments and asks on what they wanted to see for this chapter! Yoi all helped me sm! You all know who you are hehe)

warnings: smut!! 18+, MDNI, camgirl!ellie, roommate!ellie, biker!Ellie (there’s lots of tropes in this one lol), JELOUS!ELLIE, mentions of an older woman but it’s so brief, mentions of alternate love interest, face sitting, fingering, filming of intercourse, use of strap, mentions of the word cock, ANGST!, slight fluff??, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here!, and part 3 here!

A soft puff of air blew past your lips as you finished organizing the last shelf of records, your eyes looking down at the remainder vinyls that most definitely wouldn’t fit into any of the space you had.

God you hated the holidays.

Well you didn’t, you loved the colder months. It was so cozy, and welcoming, however you hated it as a retail worker. With the changing of the seasons came your manager with boxes of new vintage records that he explained were in high demand for the customers coming in and out of the city, all of which you had to change out and organize from the last collection you’d had for the summer time.

So the holidays were fine, just not when you were working.

Not to mention, the only thing plaguing your mind these days was a specific brunette who had quite the tongue on her.

After that night, Ellie had you rewatch the video, making sure you were okay with it, and it was okay to post. It was weird, because you’d never really seen yourself that way. You never moan too loud, or put on too much of a show during sex, it just was what it was, and it wasn’t ever really done with an audience in mind. But seeing yourself in Ellie’s lap, her strong hands running up and down your body, working on your pussy like a fucking pro, you had to admit.

You looked damn fucking good on camera.

And you weren’t the only one that thought so. After you gave Ellie the okay to post and edit the video, the response was amazing. Gone where the comments asking where Ellie’s usually girl was, missing the chemistry they had, her whiny moans and pretty body, all of which were replaced by a sea of comments and donations coming in, all on your behalf. They asked Ellie to please keep you around, putting in suggestions of what they wanted to see next, what they wanted to see her do to you, next.

Ellie wasn’t wrong, the crowd fucking loved you.

So? You filmed another video. And another, and another, and another, until you and Ellie had created nearly an entire box set of home movies for her adoring fans, all of which had become your adoring fans practically over night.

And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.

Sure, you’d had your fair share of good sex in the past. Your ex was pretty good with her hands, and there was that one girl you were seeing for a few months, she was okay with her strap.

But Ellie? Jesus Christ, you quickly caught onto why Julia acted the way she did after Ellie was done with her.

It was all you could think about, the way that Ellie treated your body when you were filming. The way she never failed to pay attention to every part of you before herself, the way she kissed you, the way her hands ran down your body, the way she simply knew how to pleasure a woman.

And it wasn’t like there was any real harm in any of it, right? In helping your roommate with her line of work? That’s what it was after all. You helped Ellie make her content, and she fucked you until you could barely think straight.

In simpler terms, Ellie knew how to fuck, and she knew how to fuck good. Filming with her only further proved that.

Your eyes scanned the record store once more, a stack of records in your hands as you tried looking for another place where these god forsaken vinyls could go. You were close to simply shoving them underneath the cash register, calling it a night and going home before the drunk tourists eager to visit the city got in your way of getting to your bus stop.

You spotted a spot on top of one of the shelves, which made you huff softly in annoyance. You usually avoided it since you couldn’t reach it, vowing to never put yourself out of your way for a bunch of records no one will want to buy, but there weren’t many and you figured you already had them out, so might as well finish what you started.

As you struggled to push the records up into the tall shelf, you heard the little ding at the front door of your shop over the soft music that you had playing. You couldn’t even bother to turn around, knowing it was most definitely some drunk idiot trying to buy a last minute gift for someone.

“Sorry…we’re…fuck…we’re closed” you huffed out as you struggled even further, the tips of your fingers finally pushing one of the records up and sliding it into place. You didn’t even realize you didn’t hear the usual apology paired with the bell ringing again, signaling that the person had left.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand push into the sliver of skin that was slightly exposed between your jeans and your top, making you shriek loudly and recoil from the persons touch. Once you turned around, you were prepared to smash the stack of records you had over the idiots head who thought it was okay to come in and touch random girls while they worked.

But you only came face to face with those gorgeous green eyes that you seemed to constantly see, even when she wasn’t around.

You let out a soft gasp, reaching forward and landing a not so friendly punch on her leather clad arms, a soft huff leaving your lips as you watched your roommate snort softly at you, trying to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Ellie?? I could’ve dropped these” you whine, looking down at the disheveled records before you turned around, going back to trying to pushing them back into their spot.

Ellie sighed softly as she came down from her laughing fit, setting her helmet down on the row of records next to her as she leaned against it. “Shouldn’t you be locking the door once you’re closed? Sounds like a safety hazard to me” she hummed out, clearly trying to get under your skin.

You could practically hear that stupid fucking smirk on her lips, which makes you roll your eyes, even if she was right.

“I had a customer before I started putting these away…I’ll lock up once I’m finished” you explained, still struggling with the second record you had, which makes Ellie chuckle softly.

She pushed herself off of the row she was leaned up against before she stood behind you, her chest pressing against your back, one of her hands resting on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she reached up with ease and pushed the record in with ease.

You let out a soft huff softly, looking down at her hand on your waist before you turn around, looking up at her and narrowing your eyes at the girl. “Is that really necessary?” You question as you gesture to her hand, which only makes her shrug before bringing her hand down and giving your ass a firm squeeze, “not at all. Gimme those and go grab your stuff, I’m taking you home” she explained before she promptly took the records and put them away on the shelf for you.

You simply stare at her in disbelief, watching as she put away the records with ease. She looked over at you, nodding her head towards the back where she knew you kept your stuff while you were working. “Go on. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic” she explained, which makes you roll your eyes at her before you stomp off to go and grab your things.

Damn her for being so fucking hot.

Soon, you had your jacket on and your bag was slung over your shoulder. When you walked out to the store front to shut off the lights and the music, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, leaned up against the cashier, seemingly waiting for you. She gave you a soft smile when she noticed you were there, pushing her phone into her pocket. “Ready?” She asked, moving to grab her helmet.

You nodded, returning the soft smile before you grabbed the keys, nodding your head towards the door. “Ready” you confirm.

She followed behind you, waiting for you as you locked up the store before leading her out.

You shivered slightly when you both step out into the cold air, watching as the lights of the city illuminate the street, welcoming everyone who was in need of a night out. You just wanted to get home.

You watched as Ellie walked in front of you, setting her helmet down before she opened up her seat to grab her spare and handing it to you before she put hers on and swung her leg over her bike to get on.

Usually, Ellie didn’t pick you up from work. She was most likely busy filming with Julia, finishing up far too late to meet you at work. Sometimes, she’d be in the area and she’d pick you up, but that wasn’t something that happened quite often for you two.

But, ever since you took Julia’s place, Ellie had been picking you up a lot more often.

You took the helmet from her, putting it on your head before you got onto Ellie’s bike, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head along her leather clad back. You heard a soft chuckle muffled by her helmet, her head turning to the side a bit as she felt you cuddle into her from behind.

"Don't need to tell you to hold on tight, do I?" She teased, which earns a soft pinch to her side from you.

Before you know it, Ellie is turning on the engine to her bike, revving it a bit, and you two are speeding down the streets of the city towards your apartment.

The feeling of the cold breeze kissing your exposed skin as Ellie drove you both down the streets made your blood pump. It was fucking stupid, but drives home with her had a way of truly making you feel alive for a bit.

You’d never tell her that, though. It would blow her head up way too much.

Ellie had a tendency to show off in many aspects of her life. One of those manifested whenever she was on her bike. She’d rev her engine when she saw a group of pretty girls, tattooed hands gripping the handles of her bike as she watched them swoon over her. She’d get a kick out of it whenever they’d squeal over her, trying their best to call her back, an attempt at trying to get her to turn around and give them more attention.

You thought it was stupid. It was just Ellie on a bike after all.

Ellie stopped once she reached a red light, her back straightening out a bit as she rested one of her hands on her thighs, patting a mindlessly rhythm into her jean clad leg as she waited for it to turn green so you could both get moving again. Your hands loosened a bit on her waist as you waited as well.

You noticed from the corner of your eye a car pulling up next to you. It’s a sleek black 1969 dodge charger, the lights of the city bouncing off of the shiny paint. It isn’t too flashy, but enough so that anyone can appreciate. You can’t help but gawk a bit at the beautiful car, not at all noticing the window slowly rolling down.

You hear a whistle, which catches both yours and Ellie’s attention. In the car, is an older woman. You took not of her features, noticing how pretty she was, long hair tucked up into a bun, body adorned in what you could only assume was an expensive suit. You notice her lips tugged beneath her teeth as her dark eyes bore holes into your direction, and you can only assume she’s gawking at Ellie, as one usually does when she’s out on her bike. As you look closer, you realize she isn’t looking at Ellie.

She’s looking at you.

And you can’t even deny that your chest doesn’t warm up, because she’s clearly extremely beautiful. Her strong, ring clad hands gripping the steering wheel as her eyes travel down your body. You didn’t think that when you tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and your old brown jacket that same morning that you’d be getting attention from anyone, let alone from a fucking rich milf in the middle of the road.

But you aren’t the only one to notice, because you feel Ellie shift forward, her own hands going back to grip the handle bars of her bike, her head never leaving the direction of the woman who’s shamelessly undressing you with her eyes. You gasp softly underneath your own helmet when the feeling of Ellie revving her bike catches you off guard, ripping you away from the trance the woman has you in. You turn your head to look at Ellie, hands tightening a bit around her waist to prepare your take off.

But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.

This catches the woman’s attention, and she merely chuckles softly before she sticks her hand out her window and gives Ellie a slight wave, as if to silently tell her she’d back off. The light turns green, and while you think that’s the end of it, you catch a glimpse of the woman sending a wink your way before she zooms off, which prompts Ellie to do soon after, just as fast, knuckles turning white as she gripped her handle bars.

If you weren’t holding on tight enough to Ellie, you’d probably have gone flying.

When you both get home, you decide not to question the very bizarre interaction you both had with that woman, figuring it was just Ellie being Ellie, and there wasn’t really anything to it anyways.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It makes it even stranger that when you both walk through the door, Ellie doesn’t show a single sign of annoyance, which makes you feel like you’re hallucinating even more than you were before. She’s walking into the apartment, tugging off her jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down onto the couch.

So yeah, you’re probably just tired.

You let out a soft hum as you tug off your own jacket before hanging it up, grabbing Ellie’s and hanging it up as well. She had a bad habit of shedding her layers off as soon as she got through the door.

You stand before Ellie in the living room, her legs spread as she babysits a bottle of water, eyes never leaving yours. You watch as she pats her lap quietly, which forces you to give her a look of disbelief.

Usually, you’d have a witty remark for that sort of gesture from Ellie, which would often times be paired with a pillow to her face. But there’s simply something about the way her legs are spread out on the couch, looking so fucking inviting, that makes you quietly follow her orders, and straddle her lap.

Now, most intimacy was supposed to be saved for the camera, it was an unspoken rule of filming with Ellie, or it was a rule you set for yourself. Apart from warming up before filming, letting Ellie get you nice and wet for her before you got on camera with her, there wasn’t really a reason to have any sort of intimacy with her. Things were supposed to go back to normal when you weren’t on camera, back to how things were as roommates.

But, you’d be lying if you said that’s how it was. You and Ellie had always had an affectionate relationship, one that never went without cuddling, caressing, even crashing in your bed from time to time when she couldn’t sleep. You were no stranger to Ellie’s strong hands on your body, because that was just Ellie. She had a thing for gripping and groping, always wanting her hands to be occupied with something whenever you were near, you assumed that’s how she was with everyone.

There just seemed to be something about getting regularly fucked by Ellie that made the intimacy take a different level, a different course that made things feel…different.

And of course, there’s no harm in that. You watched Ellie kiss Julia goodnight every time she left the house, always taking an extra few minutes to hold her when they were done. If they could do it, why couldn’t you two do it?

Ellie let out a soft hum of approval when you straddled her lap, disregarding the water bottle so that both her hands were free to grip your hips, pulling you closer to her. Your hands went around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck as she pressed her face against your neck, giving your skin a deep inhale.

“Missed you today…” she mumbled softly against your skin, which makes you roll your eyes playfully, yet still keeping her close. “You saw me this morning before I left” you argue softly, which only earns a soft whine from Ellie, you can feel her lips form a pout against your throat before she presses soft kisses to it.

“So? Still missed you” she explained, her voice low as she spoke. You can’t help but giggle softly, staring down at the girl as she litters your throat with soft kisses.

But this feels way too fucking intimate, even for you and Ellie.

You clear your throat, tugging her hair back a bit to force her to look at you, which makes Ellie groan softly, half in annoyance, and half in pleasure. She loved it whenever you did what you wanted with her.

“We filming tonight?” You ask quickly, a sorry attempt at trying to interrupt this soppy little scene you and her are having.

You see a flash of something ripple through Ellie’s green eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on, because she’s changing her expression much too quickly, giving you and eager nod as her hands go from gently caressing you, to gripping your ass tightly. This makes you whine softly in her lap.

“Eager to have me…aren’t you baby” she chuckles softly, the shift in her personality clear as her eyes quickly darken with lust. You swallow nervously, always feeling small in front of Ellie whenever she looked at you that way. You feel the way she slowly begins grinding your hips down into her lap, strong hands gripping you and moving you as she pleased. You can only nod, your lips forming a gentle pout before a gentle sigh leaves them.

“Always…” you moan out softly, which makes her smirk up at you proudly. You’d gotten so good at voicing what you wanted these past few weeks, it made warmth pool at Ellie’s core.

She gives your ass a firm spank before she nodded her head towards her room. “Go get the camera, baby” she ordered gently, that delicious tone of dominance lacing her words, you quickly followed her instructions, getting up from her lap and going to her room to get the equipment.

That was another thing, with your new presence in Ellie’s work, came a change of scenery in her videos.

Ellie usually kept her videos and streams exclusive to her bedroom, having the common courtesy to not fuck all over your shared apartment. But now that it was just you two, there was a new sense of freedom when it came to filming with you. It happened one day when Ellie was finger fucking your pussy on the couch, and had the bright idea to grab her camera, because it was just too fucking good to not hit record on.

Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.

You returned with all of the filming equipment, never knowing what Ellie had planned for a shoot, so instead opting to bring everything so she could choose from.

Ellie smirks softly as she sits up from her spot on the couch, eyes low and filled with lush as you walk back into the living room. You lift up her camera and her tripod, a confused frown on your lips as you look between the two. “M’not sure what you wanted to film, so I brought both. I can always go back and-“ she’s quickly cutting you off, standing up from the couch and slowly making her way to you before she takes both out of your hands gently, and sets them down on your coffee table.

“We can focus on that, later…I need to make sure you’re ready..” she purred out, making you swallow back a whimper.

Her hands go down to yours, gently gripping your arms before she pushes them to rest around her neck, her own hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush to her body.

‘Making sure you were ready’ was just Ellie’s way of saying she wanted a moment with you off camera.

You simply give her a nod, your head already tilting forward as you lean in to press a kiss to her soft lips. Ellie groans in approval, her head tilting to the side a bit as soon as you were pressed against her, deepening the kiss. Her nimble fingers slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while also using the leverage to pull you closer, pressing your chest firmly against hers. This make you gasp, and as always, she uses that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Ellie smirks into the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hands massage your ass through your jeans.

“Been needy for me, baby? I’ve been needy for you…” she confessed between the feverish kiss. It was slow, and dirty, and so fucking erotic, it had your panties soaked already.

All you could do was nod, desperately pushing your lips back against hers as you tugged at her shirt. “Thought about you all day…” you said mindlessly, which makes Ellie chuckle softly against you.

“Yeah? God…me fuckin too…kept thinking about your pretty cunt all day…fucked my self so many times to the thought of you…” she groaned out. Her words make you moan a bit louder.

You’re so fucked out already, that you can barely register what it is that she just confessed to you.

Ellie hums softly as she breaks the kiss, looking down at you as you stare up at her with lust filled eyes and a needy pout. She tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, her own swollen lip tugged between her teeth.

“Bet you loved when that woman was staring at you…didn’t you.”

This catches you off guard.

Your eyes widen a bit, shocked over the fact that Ellie was even bringing it up to you, especially when all you wanted was her hands on your cunt, not the image of another woman in your head.

You don’t know why, but your first response is to quickly shake your head.

“What? She wasn’t…I didn’t notice her staring” you try, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches you, catching your chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she angles your face up a bit more to stare up at her.

“It’s okay baby…she was very pretty…” she agreed, giving a slow nod before she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, head cocking to the side in a teasing manner before she hummed out softly.

“You think she could make you feel as good as I do?” She questioned, blown out pupils surrounded by a sliver of green staring down into your own.

And again, you’re quickly shaking your head, because you know for a fact that there is probably only a handful of people on this planet that can fuck you as good as Ellie can, and that’s being generous to the general population. Ellie fucks good, and anyone who gets to experience that is fucking lucky.

They’re also ruined for anyone else who comes after her.

“Fuck…you know no one can…come on El…need you so bad…” you whine softly, giving Ellie a whiny little pout as you tug at her shirt further, feeling like you’ll explode if you don’t have her hands on you in the next few seconds. Ellie simply chuckles, watching as you whine and pout for her, a sorry attempt at trying to find your way out of the conversation.

“You’re damn right they can’t…such a good girl…” she praises, which makes you whine softly.

Ellie hums softly as she stares down at your body, giving your waist a gentle tap. “Stay here.” She ordered softly before she moved over to set up the camera.

You watch as she sets up the tripod, making it level with the couch, low enough so that it stops right where the back of the couch ends, so that it doesn’t catch your kitchen in the background. She turns it on before she goes behind it, bending down a bit to make sure the angle is good before she nods to herself before she moved to sit down on the couch much like she was earlier, legs spread wide, her dark jeans stretching over her toned thighs. Her arms stretched along the back of the couch, dark eyes boring holes as she watched you.

“Strip” she ordered.

Fuck.

You immediately began slowly stripping for her. Staring with your t shirt, then with your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties for a moment before you removed those as well, until you were fully naked in front of Ellie, her eyes eating you up like a hungry animal.

“So fuckin pretty…Jesus…” she groaned softly underneath her breath, letting you simply stand there, naked for her, under the dim lighting of your cozy living room.

After a moment passed, she nodded her head towards the camera. “Start recording, and then come over here.” She instructed once again, and she didn’t need to tell you twice.

You slowly walked over to the camera. On the screen, you could see Ellie on the camera, only her body visible, looking so fucking strong and confident. You knew from the angle of the camera alone, that Ellie’s viewers were in for a treat with this one.

And so were you.

When you hit record, you made your way over to Ellie slowly. She hummed softly, eyes staring up at you as you stood over her before she looked down at her lap, as if silently telling you to take a seat. You straddled her lap, the rough material of her jeans on your naked body making you hiss softly.

Ellie hummed, her large hands roaming your body the second you were on her lap. “Fuck…look at you baby..came home to all this?” Her words make you frown in confusion for only a moment, yet you quickly catch onto the fantasy that she’s trying to sell to her viewers.

You give a soft giggle, nodding as you lean in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Missed you so much…wanted to surprise you..” you purr out softly, a soft whine leaving your lips once Ellie began to slowly grind you down on her lap as she was earlier, yet this time it makes you huff softly, the rough material of her jeans dragging along your sensitive core.

“Aren’t I lucky…coming home to my pretty girl like this…fuck…you’ve been on my mind all fucking day…” she groaned out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at your naked body, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she let her hand come in between you both, catching your slippery clit against her thumb. She watches your facial expression change, a soft moan leaving your lips as you rest your hands on either one of her shoulders, looking down at her hand toying with you.

“So wet already…stand up for me baby” she hummed out softly as she gave your hip a gentle pat. You listened, standing up from her lap, which allowed her to lay down onto the couch, one of her knees bent up as the other leg laid down. She gestured you over to her.

“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.

Her words alone made you whine, and you wasted no time straddled her face, either side of your legs shielding her face from the camera.

As soon as you were settled, her tongue was out, inviting you down to take a seat as you rested a bit of your wait onto it, your pussy pressing against the warm muscle. You moan out loudly, back arching as you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth on Ellie’s flattened tongue.

The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of your moans, and Ellie’s tongue lapping away at your soaked cunt. It was times like this that Ellie had to depend on you to carry out the vocals, seeing as her mouth was a bit…occupied.

“F-feels so good…missed you so much today…” you moan out shyly, testing the waters with your voice a bit. Ellie groaned below you, her own hips bucking upwards, grinding into nothing as she gave you a quiet gesture to keep going.

You whined, giving her a slow nod as you kept going.

“You look so pretty…fuck…I love your tongue so much…” you moan out again, which earns another moan from Ellie, sending vibrations onto your sopping cunt. You moan loudly again, one of her hands coming up from around your thigh, to snake up your body and toy with your boobs, massaging the skin, pinching your nipples, her hips still bucking up into nothing with need.

You notice, turning around a bit and catching the way her hips bucked up with need. You whimper softly, reaching a hand behind you to undo her jeans before you push them down her pants, her own clit throbbing against your fingers as you begin rubbing her, watching as her eyes roll back when you begin doing this.

“Feels good? Fuck…you’re so fucking wet…fuuuckk…wanna…wanna cum with you…please” you practically beg, your arm already becoming sore from the uncomfortable position, yet you still paid the upmost attention to her poor needy pussy.

Ellie always prioritized your pleasure, it was time you do the same.

Ellie moaned and groaned against your pussy, her tongue speeding up the closer she got, her pussy grinding into your fingers desperately. You arched your back, eyebrows furrowed as you let your head fall back, the pleasure becoming too much.

You knew she was close, the grip on your thighs was almost deadly, and you were too. It wasn’t long before her hips were sputtering, her arousal soaking your fingers as she came. This alone was enough to make you shriek with pleasure, nearly falling back as your arm nearly gave out from behind you, but Ellie’s strong arms were already on your hips to keep you up, pulling you further up as she lapped at your core, helping you ride out your orgasm.

The thing you hated about filming with Ellie the most? You couldn’t even scream her name when she made you cum.

You breathed hard, your exhausted pussy shying away from Ellie’s tongue as you stared down at her, body back in its upright position, her gorgeous green eyes staring up at yours, cheeks red as she gave your pussy kitty licks.

“You should stay out late more often..” you tease, which earns a soft giggle from both of you.

Ellie gives your pussy one last kiss before she pushes you down her body so you’re straddling her waist, her eyes low and hazy as she stares up at you, gently massaging the skin of your thighs.

You always enjoyed the aftermath with her, the silence that came with it, the come down was almost as good as the sex itself. You were both so fucked out, so utterly satisfied, the warmth that overtook you was almost unbearable. You could stay there forever if you truly wanted to.

But alas, it never lasted long enough.

You felt the familiar tap on your thighs, a silent reminder that Ellie had to indeed get up and stop the camera recording. You roll off of her with wobbly thighs, cuddling into the couch and grabbing a nearby blanket to shield your body from the cold air of your apartment.

You watch with sleepy eyes as Ellie gets up, buttoning up her jeans and turning off the camera before pulling it front the tripod to look back at the footage, making sure it was all recorded correctly.

You hear your moans echoing from the device, which makes you whine softly. You always hated hearing yourself, no matter how hot you and Ellie looked. Ellie chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watched the video for a moment longer before she shut off the camera.

“That improv of yours was pretty damn good…they’re gonna like that” she added, making you giggle softly before giving her a shrug. “I always like playing with your pussy” your words make Ellie groan, and she’s suddenly giving you a look of warning, a smirk playing on her lips to match.

“Don’t play with something you can’t handle sweetheart” she warned you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fire you feel from that look alone.

“Please, you wouldn’t know how to fuck me even if you had the chance” you challenge her.

Oh yeah, that was another thing. Ellie still hadn’t properly fucked you yet.

You huffed softly as you tugged yet another top off of your body. You’d tried on nearly every article of clothing you had in your closet, yet it just wasn’t fucking working. It was times like this, that you simply wanted to burn all of your clothes and never leave your house again.

You were currently getting ready for a date, a girl you’d met at the record store had ended up asking you out on a date while you were showing her to the new age rock section that the store carried.

The first thing that went through your mind when the girl asked, wasn’t how pretty she was, or how nice her fingers looked wrapped around the edge of the thin vinyls in her hand.

No, none of that went through your head. The only thing that went through your head when the girl asked you out was Ellie.

And that scared you.

Because it’s Ellie for gods sake. The girl you’ve been living with for almost three years now, the girl who you watched eat dry cereal from the box instead of making herself a proper meal, the girl who you’ve watched genuinely find family guy funny…

The girl who’d been playing your body like a fucking guitar for almost a month now.

You realized, you needed this date.

So you agreed, giving the girl your number and telling her to text you so you guys could set up a date.

The guilt was eating you alive, because while Ellie would be fucking you with a dildo, her lips firmly on yours, you knew in the back of your head you had a girl waiting to see you at the end of the week.

And it was conflicting because did you even have to tell Ellie? Would it be stupid if you did? Would it be wrong if you didn’t? It was still just Ellie, after all. Sure, she’d seen you naked now, and she’d made you cum more times than you could count, and you her, but she was still your friend. She was still your normal roommate, your Ellie. And there was nothing really holding you back from going on dates.

Right?

You chalked up all your guilt by convincing yourself that Ellie was probably talking to other girls too, actively searching for a girlfriend, or even a permanent filming partner while you temporarily filled that spot.

Because while you guys never formally spoke about it, that’s all you were, temporary.

It worked out perfectly, because Ellie had gone out for the night, texting you and telling you she had some stuff to do, errands to run. It gave you the place all to yourself to get ready. You would’ve felt extremely stupid sneaking out of your own apartment to avoid any awkward interactions with Ellie. Even though you weren’t even sure if it would even be awkward.

You ended up settling on a little black dress, a pair of black boots and a leather bomber jacket, an outfit you had long since ran dry with how many times you wore, but you looked good, and you weren’t going to to stray away from that.

You fluffed out your hair after you finished up your makeup, spraying on your favorite perfume before you grabbed your phone, sending record store girl a quick text, letting her know that you’d be leaving your house now to meet her at the bar that you two had agreed on going to for your first date.

You couldn’t ignore the sour taste in your mouth, and the aching feeling in your belly as you looked around your room, making your final rounds before you left. There was something about the entire ordeal that just felt…dirty. The fact that you were sneaking around, hiding something that you felt needed to be hidden…

Leaving Ellie for the night.

All of it made you feel ill, and the fact that you felt that way made you feel even worse.

But regardless of it all, Ellie was out and it was all in your head. Ellie probably wouldn’t even care if you went out with a girl! She’d be happy for you, she’d send you out of the apartment with an encouraging slap on your ass before telling you to wrap it up before you-

Suddenly, you could hear Ellie opening up the door from the other side of your apartment door. You feel like you’ll freeze up and die in that very moment.

She walks into the house humming a tune you can’t quite find, probably some song that had been stuck in her head. She has her helmet tucked under her arm, and a brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite take out spot slung along her long fingers. She doesn’t notice you at first, because she’s too busy cursing under her breath as she tries to get herself inside, a low groan leaving her lips a she tosses her keys into the entrance bowl, kicking the door shut behind her.

“Babe? You home? I brought dinner” she calls out.

You feel sick to your fucking stomach.

Because it feels too domestic, too romantic, too fucking far for you and Ellie for her to be calling out for you that way, to be ordering your favorite dinner and bringing it home for you. You aren’t even entirely sure what prompted her to do this, and you don’t know who you’re more annoyed with, her for doing it, or you for not being honest with her.

You’re too caught up in your thoughts, because you barely realize that Ellie’s eyes are finally on yours, a confused frown as she stares at you up and down, clearly readying yourself to leave the apartment.

“You…look so pretty. Are we going somewhere?” She questions slowly, her sentence slipping into a tone of worry, as if she’d forgotten about something that you planned for the both of you, her big green eyes frantically searching yours.

You can’t fucking do this anymore.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you clear your throat, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress as you try to find your voice, find your words to break it to Ellie.

“I um….I have a date tonight” you mumble out softly, barely loud enough for Ellie to hear, hoping that she doesn’t and some miracle snatches this ridiculous conversation away so you don’t have to experience it.

But she does hear you.

Her face goes from worried to annoyed almost instantly, her brows knitted together as her lips form a confused frown. “A date? With who?” She spits out, and the tone is too accusing for you. It makes you wince slightly, your lips forming a frown of your own as you let out a soft sigh.

“Girl I met at the record store” you sigh out, and you hate this, because it feels so far from what you and Ellie are. It feels to reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend cornering you, confused as to why you’d ever leave her when she was there waiting for you, why on earth would you pass her up for anyone else when she gives you everything anyways?

The energy you can feel radiating off of Ellie is the same thing you felt when that woman was looking at you on the road. It feels hostile, and possessive, it feels like she has some claim on you that you aren’t even fully aware of, and it’s the reason you decided to go on the date in the first place, because regardless of not fully knowing what it is that’s happened between you and Ellie.

You know it isn’t good.

Ellie moves to drop the food onto the coffee table, a bit too harshly in your opinion. Her strong hand goes up to run through her brown hair, one hand on her hip as she stares at the floor for a moment. You should’ve just taken that as an opportunity to leave, to avoid all of this. But you don’t.

“It’s…it’s Friday night. We’re supposed to film. We film every Friday” she argues.

Fuck.

You chew your maroon tinted bottom lip, feeling like a kid who’s done something bad and is now facing the repercussions of a disappointed parent. You feel small, and stupid, and you can’t believe you forgot about it. There had been such a blur between the schedule you had with Ellie, with far too many moments of making out with her on the couch, or her fingers finding their way into your pants whenever you were watching a movie together, that the intimacy in your brain was becoming confused with the intimacy that was needed for the camera and the camera only.

And in that moment, you realize that this needs to end.

Because maybe you and Ellie can go back to normal, maybe you can forget about this and she can find someone who is better at this stuff than you are. It’s too confusing, and it’s putting you in a bad position of thinking too deep into things while also missing the bigger picture, and you’re fucking exhausted.

You inhale deeply, opening your mouth to speak, to tell her that this isn’t what you want anymore, that this isn’t for you anymore. You have it all mapped out, how you’re going to finally tell her that this simply can’t go on anymore.

But suddenly, your phone goes off.

You frown, looking down at the glowing device in your hands. It’s a text from record store girl, she’s telling you how she just left her house, and how excited she is to see you tonight. This catches Ellie’s attention too.

She looks down at your phone, her angry and annoyed expression still present on her face.

“Is that her?” She asks. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you try pushing your phone in your jacket pocket. “Ellie I…when I get back I really think we should talk about-“ she quickly cuts you off, her voice a bit louder than it was when she first asked.

“I said…is that her?” Her words are slower, clearer, as if she wants you to hear every goddamn syllable that leaves her mouth. You know she isn’t fucking around, and you simply inhale deeply, taking your phone out of your pocket and looking at the message that was still lingering at the bottom of your Lock Screen.

“Yeah…it is….” You admit, ignoring how fucking stupid you feel for telling Ellie this. You should have left, you should have ignored her and gone on your date and had a good time so you could come home and tell her that she needed to find a new filming partner, because you weren’t cut out for this shit anymore.

She begins taking slow strides towards you, the closer she gets, the more you can smell her cologne. It makes you swallow back a whine, because her scent is the single most euphoric thing to you right now. It haunts you in your sleep, and it makes your mouth water whenever she’s on top of you.

Soon, she’s right in front of you, her green eyes staring down at your outfit, taking in everything that you have on, how pretty your hair and makeup is. Her slender fingers come up to tug at your jacket slightly, a soft puff of air exiting her nose before she speaks. “What’d she tell you? That she’s on her way? So excited to see you?” She questions, her voice low and taunting as her nimble fingers dance along your jacket, ghosting along the fabric of your dress.

“Fuckin idiot…she’s on her way to some shitty bar and I’ve got her girl practically shaking for me..” she hummed out softly.

And it was true. Ellie had hardly touched you, yet your fists were balled at your side, body practically begging for her as her skilled fingers barely gave you what you wanted. The second she was in front of you, your brain was clouded with her, with all the things you wanted from her, all the things you knew she could do to you.

“Had so much planned for us tonight, baby…wanted to finally show you off live..wanted to take care of that pretty body of yours…and you were getting all dolled up for some asshole who probably wouldn’t know how to make you cum even if she got the chance” she explains, her voice low, minty breath fanning across your face, making you whine softly.

“You’ve never dress like this for me before…” she groans out, and it makes your eyes widen a bit. Before you can open your mouth and say anything back, her skinny fingers are grabbing your chin and angling your face up to fully look at her, her green eyes staring down into yours as she licked her bottom lip slowly.

“God I can’t stand you sometimes..” she sighed out softly before she pressed her mouth against yours in a needy kiss. Your hands instantly wrap around her neck, keeping her close as her own arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her body.

It’s as if any and all moral high ground that you had was gone, replaced by only thoughts of Ellie. You let her fill you up, breath life into you as her warm tongue explored your mouth, dominated the kiss and took you on a wild fucking ride that only consisted of a single kiss from her.

Soon, she’s breaking the kiss, and it makes you whine and chase her lips. She chuckles softly, the sound dark and taunting as she stares down at your needy eyes and swollen lips. “Now you’re chasing me…poor thing…” she tuts out, clearly mocking you with a pouty tone.

She slips her hand into your jacket pocket, taking out your phone and looking at the message. She rolls her eyes, pushing the phone in between you two.

“You’re gonna call her, and you’re gonna tell her you aren’t coming” she demands. Your eyes go wide, looking up at Ellie before you quickly shake your head. “What? No! Ellie I can’t! I…can’t I just text her?” Even your own words shock you a bit, because are you seriously staying with Ellie when there was a perfectly willing girl waiting for you at a bar down the street?

If Ellie said so, then yeah. Yeah you were.

Ellie shrugged before she unlocked your phone, having learned your password way back when you two first moved in together. “Fine. I’ll call her” she nodded, her fingers scrolling through your phone to find the girls contact. This makes your eyes go wider, and you quickly snatch your phone from Ellie’s hand, because you know that Ellie will be shameless with it, and it’ll make you look way worse than you already do by flaking so last minute.

“No! No…fine…I’ll do it. Just…please be quiet, Ellie” you plead, giving her a look of warning before you sigh softly, looking down at your phone for a moment before you click the girl contact, set it to call, and put your phone to your ear.

Ellie smiles proudly, pearly teeth gleaming as her hands give your hips a firm squeeze. “That’s my fuckin girl…” she praises. Her words makes your insides flutter, core tightening around nothing as you wait for the girl to answer, a gentle pout on your lips despite the fact that your arms were still wrapped around Ellie, and she still had your body pressed against hers.

After a few rings, she finally answers. Her voice is bright and bubbly and you want to kick yourself for doing this to someone so fucking sweet.

“Hey….look…I’m really sorry but I think I’m going to have to-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips pressing against your neck, wet mouth working against your skin, bitting and sucking, sure to leave marks in the morning. It makes you gasp softly..

Because Ellie never left marks.

It wasn’t something that ever really bothered you. It helped in all honesty, you didn’t really want to be walking around littered in Ellie’s hickies, it would’ve resulted in too many questions from your coworkers and friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with that. It was just an unspoken rule, Ellie didn’t mark you, and you didn’t mark her. That was too far along the lines of being a couple for you.

But clearly, that had all changed tonight.

There was a sense of possessiveness that you could feel when she did it. Teeth and tongue sucking and biting at your soft skin, eager to claim you in any way that she possibly could. Between the feeling of it, and the fact that she was doing it, it made it hard to talk, your eyes rolling back into your head as you bit back a whimper, covering it up with a couch as you tried finding the words in your fuzzy head to speak to the girl.

Ellie smirked against your throat as she listened to you struggle, listened to the muffled words of the confused girl on the other line try to understand what it was you were saying.

You tugged at Ellie’s hair slightly, yet still kept her close as she mouthed your neck. “I…I can’t…look I’m really not feeling well..I…mph…I can’t come out tonight. I’m sorry” you quickly ramble out, knowing you were too close to moaning out Ellie’s name to keep this going on any longer. Before you were able to hear what the girl had to say on the other line, you hang up, turn your phone off and toss it onto the couch.

You moan softly, tilting your head to the side to give Ellie better access to your neck. “I can’t believe you fucking did that…” you moan out as you began shrugging your jacket off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. You felt too hot, too fucking needy, everything was just too much and you struggled to wrap your head around what exactly was even happening.

“Me? I didn’t do anything…you’re the one that cancelled on the poor girl” Ellie teased gently, which earns a swat to her arm from your end.

You sigh softly, tugging her hair back so that she’s pulled away from your neck. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers, your tongue pushing into her mouth with need as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie groans into the kiss, her hands going down to give your ass a firm squeeze. “Eager are we?” She grunts against your lips.

You huff softly, ignoring her words as you begin pushing her backwards towards her room, your lips never leaving the sloppy kiss. It’s so fucking erotic, and messy, and needy, and there’s so much filling it that you can both clearly feel. You decide to ignore it.

“I decided to stay with you…you better make this worth it” you groan out softly, which only earns a smirk from Ellie as she stares down at you, her heart fluttering at the way you pushed her around, did with her as you pleased.

“I always do, baby” she chuckled softly, and all you want to do is wipe that smug fucking smirk off her beautiful face.

Once you’re in her bedroom, you press your palms against her chest, shoving her back to lay on her bed. She lets out a soft moan, clearly happy with the way that you’re handling her.

You tug your dress up a bit as you move to straddle her, her hands instantly moving to grip your thighs. She lets out a soft hiss, her lust filled eyes eating up the way your dress hugs your curves, pushes up your boobs. For a moment, you see a hint of something flash through her eyes as she watches you, taking in the dress that you wore for a date, wore for someone else.

You don’t ignore it this time, because it’s clearly jealously.

You don’t know whether or not you should say something, or kiss her, or do anything else to get your mind off of it, but you don’t have to. Because as soon as you’re settled down on her lap, you can feel a foreign bulge pressing into your clothed core, and it makes your eyes widen and Ellie smirks and rolls her hips up to grind it into you, and then you realize what the surprise that Ellie had was.

Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.

And not with her fingers, or with a sex toy, it would be with her strap. She was going to fuck you, something you’d already assumed wasn’t going to happen between the two of you.

She must have noticed the shocked look on your face, because she chuckles as she continues grinding her cock into you, making you whine softly as you press you hands on her hips to give yourself leverage as you roll your hips to meet her movements.

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours…went out and brought a brand new one just for you…” she explained, revealing what it was that she’d been out doing while you were getting ready for your date.

She was buying new toys to fuck you with, and picking up dinner for after.

You felt like you were dreaming.

All you can do is moan in response, eagerly undoing Ellie’s jeans, wanting nothing more than to feel her fill you up, fucking into you deliciously, giving you what you’d always wanted.

Ellie is quick to grab your wrists, pulling them away from her jeans. “Ahh, not so fast, princess….we’re gonna do this the right way” she hums out softly. You can’t help but pout, a soft huff leaving your lips as you open your mouth to complain, but Ellie is already sitting up, gently pushing you back to lay on her bed properly as she crawls over you.

She hums softly, staring down at your body for a moment, silently taking you in before she pushes your dress up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as her hands find its spot cupping your clothed pussy.

“Hmm….so wet already…I’m gonna have so much fun taking you, baby…” she groaned against your lips, swallowing up your moans as her slender fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you slowly, forcing the cotton material of your pantries to go translucent as your arousal soaked them almost entirely.

And your head is spinning as she kisses you, because she’s being so slow, so gentle, treating your body with so much care. And it’s not unlike Ellie to do this, but you just assumed this would have gone differently. You expected her to be rough, fucking into you while telling you how no one could ever fuck her like she does…

But she’s not. She’s so gentle, and soft, and it’s making your heart do dances it’s never done before..

Ellie lets out a soft sigh as she tugs your panties to the side, feeling your velvety folds better now without the fabric constricting her. She rubs you slowly, building you up, getting your sopping little pussy all warmed up for her cock. Soon, her hands leave your core, and she pulls you up to tug your dress off before laying you back down, and tugging off your panties as well, leaving you entirely naked before her.

Ellie hisses softly under her breath as she eyes you, sitting back on her legs as she begins tugging off her own shirt, before she crawls off the bed to tug her jeans off, leaving her completely naked as well, eyes never leaving your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” she mumbles out softly before she crawls back onto you, pressing her naked chest against yours. The feeling makes you moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, because you’ve never felt Ellie like this. You’ve never had her body pressed up against yours this way, and it feels like the single most intimate thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Ellie’s hand goes down to her cock, gripping the base before she brings it to your core, running it along your sopping wet folds, against your clit before she slowly feeds you her length, earning a whiny moan from you.

Ellie quickly nods as she kisses you softly, one of her hands giving your waist a squeeze. “I know baby…I know it’s big…you can take me…I know you can” she praises you, and it makes you moan softly into her mouth as she rubs your clit, pushing further into your weeping cunt.

“Ellie…fuck…more…need more” you moan against her, the empty feeling still present as she waits for you to tell her it’s okay to keep going. She groans softly, pushing more of her length into you until she bottoms out completely, her thighs flushed against yours as she waits for you to adjust to her size.

You roll your hips slowly, already feeling yourself leaking around the length, and you give her a nod, staring into her green eyes as your hips buck up into her. “Need you, El…need more of you..” you moan out softly.

And Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you say that.

Her strong hand goes down, gripping your thigh as she slowly fucks into you, moaning as her clit bumps against the back of the strap with her movements.

Her eyes never leaves you, watches as your face contorts in pleasure, moaning loudly for her, arching your back when the tip of her cock rubs against your velvety walls, watching as you fall apart on her length.

Her thrusts are slow, and calculated and she’s staring down at all of you as she fucks into you. You suddenly feel her long fingers wrap around your cheeks, pulling you to look up at her because frankly, you’re having a hard time looking anywhere.

“Eyes on me, baby…need to see you right now…f-fuck…that’s my good fucking girl…taking me so well” she praises, and it makes you moan loudly with her. You grab her wrist, watching as she fucks into you faster, both of you getting closer and closer to what you’ve been needing for who knows how fucking long.

Suddenly, Ellie’s hand leaves your face and instead, grabs your hand, bringing it above your head as she interlocks your fingers. Her gaze is so intense, and the grip on your hand is so tight, you feel tears prickling at the ends of your eyes because whatever the hell is happening is too goddamn intense, it’s taking over you completely, and it’s making it all too much.

“Ellie…Ellie I…I…” you choke out between little moans and whines, your eyes growing glossy as you stare up at her, and Ellie is already nodding despite your lack of words, because she understands, she feels it too, and you don’t even have to say it.

“Come on baby…give it to me…fuck…cum with my angel…please” she’s practically begging, her own moans cutting off her words as she fucks you faster, the grip on your hand almost lethal as she stares down at you, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.

And you feel it, how could you not? Your orgasm washes over you almost painfully, making you close your eyes shut as your back arches, squeezing Ellie’s hand as you cum hard on her cock. It’s too much, too intimate, too fucking intense, and you feel like you’ll explode just from the feeling of it.

Ellie has no other choice but to smash her lips against yours when she sees it, she can practically feel the way you grip her cock with your pussy and it’s the catalyst that sends her into her own sea of pleasure, euphoria swallowing her up and almost drowning her as she kisses you with everything she’s feeling, pouring it all out into you as her hips slowly fuck into you, riding out both yours and her orgasm.

The come down is hard, because she’s on top of you, and it’s quiet apart from the heavy breathing between you and hear, and her head is resting on her chest…

And all Ellie can think about, is how utterly fucked she is..

Because she’s in love with you

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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aquaticmercy · 7 days ago

Text

Match

Summary : You finally found your intellectual match in Bucky Barnes.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x rare book dealer!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : You and Bucky are nerds (affectionate), mentions of his past. Sexual tension-filled philosophical debate. DC comics exist in the MCU as literature as per the guardians Christmas special lol. Cursing? Steamy not smut. Fluff!!!!

Word count : 5.7k

Note : This fic was inspired by that one scene in FATWS where Bucky said he read the hobbit. I just really like the idea that Bucky really really likes to read. Enjoy!

Rare books were not just a job to you, but a vocation. You spent your days seeking out treasures, preserving them, and connecting them with people who could truly appreciate their worth. Your little shop was a haven of creaking wooden floors and shelves brimming with the worn spines of countless literary works, sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

It was your home.

On a quiet Tuesday, the bell over the door jingled.

At first, you assumed the man who walked in was lost or killing time— maybe a tourist who thought your shop was an antique or souvenir shop (you’ve gotten a lot of those over the years).

He didn’t fit your usual profile of a customer—no tweed jackets or scholarly glasses. No suit and tie, no clean white blouse. This one was confident, albeit rough on the edges. His leather jacket and heavy boots belonged in a biker gang, his long hair brushing beautifully against his shoulders. But it was his left arm that drew your gaze—a sleek, black metal hand peeking out of his sleeve, rippling slightly when he moved.

You recognized him instantly: James Buchanan Barnes.

The former Winter Soldier.

A man who belonged to history books and legends. Seeing him in person was... surreal. No article had prepared you for the magnetism he carried, no photo did him justice.

Still, you weren’t one to swoon. And you definitely weren’t about to let him see you staring a little too long into his steely blue eyes.

“Can I help you?” you asked, keeping your voice calm and professional.

For a second, he seemed to weigh whether or not to answer. “I’m looking for a first edition of The Hobbit.”

You blinked.

That wasn’t what you’d expected.

“It’s in the case over here,” you replied, recovering quickly. You led him to the glass display where one of your most cherished possessions lay nestled, secure and pristine.

He muttered something like ‘just like I remember’ as he gazed at the book, his voice close to reverence.

“Big fan?” you ventured, curious.

His lips curved up, into a faint smile. He nodded. “Always admired how he built entire worlds. The languages, the histories.” He hesitated, his voice growing quieter. “He lived through hell in the trenches, too. And from that, he wrote something… hopeful.”

You hadn’t expected that depth of understanding, and your surprise must have been obvious. “What?” he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d be the type?”

This was going to be fun, you thought.

You shrugged, trying to suppress a grin, “you’re not exactly my usual Tolkien collector.”

That earned you a sweet, gentle chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d be either, but I’ve always loved books,” he admitted, “They were one of the only constants after...” His voice faltered, remnants of his past briefly flashing behind his eyes.

You didn’t press. Instead, you followed his lead, steering the conversation back to Tolkien. “You're right about the worldbuilding. He wrote a full mythology— linguistic and cultural foundations and all. It’s like he created an alternate history.”

“Exactly.” Bucky’s smile returned, brighter this time. It had been ages since Bucky had an engaging, meaningful conversation that wasn’t about mission planning, let alone about a book. The heated, faceless debates with internet strangers—each convinced they were ultimately correct—definitely didn’t count. “It’s that attention to detail— You don’t see that much anymore.”

After that, the two of you fell into a rhythm, talking easily for nearly an hour. About Tolkien’s works, his love for language, and the way war had shaped his narratives. You even mentioned how Tolkien’s own experiences in World War I echoed the camaraderie and loss found in his stories. Bucky nodded along, sharing personal observations that surprised you—not just because of their insight, but because of how much he genuinely cared.

Back in the day, everyone saw Bucky as the classic jock, and to be fair, he was. But beneath the effortless charm, he was a nerd at heart—fascinated by books, obsessed with science, and captivated by innovation. It was Bucky who had dragged Steve along to the World Exposition of Tomorrow, it was Bucky who was eager to see Howard Stark’s presentation on flying cars. Back then, the future had been his fixation. It had been out of reach— a world of endless possibilities.

Now, he was drawn to the past.

He’d fallen in love with reading again. After all, he had a century of literature to catch up on. And with the internet at his fingertips, he had access to more knowledge and stories than he could have dreamed of.

40s Bucky would’ve had a heart attack from the sheer volume of information he could consume. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just chasing a vision of what might be—he was immersing himself in what already was.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to The Lord of the Rings.

“Did you read the trilogy?” you asked.

He nodded. “Only a couple of years ago. I didn’t even realize it was published after… everything.” He paused, frowning slightly, as if reaching into the murky depths of his memory.

Right. You did a quick mental tally based on the books you’ve read about him. The Hobbit was published in 1937, and The Fellowship of the Ring in 1954. Bucky was presumed killed in action in 1945 and captured by a terrorist organization. So, yeah—he’d missed it.

“Hydra,” you said the thought allowed before you could stop yourself.

You winced, bracing for impact. Oh no, you thought, have I crossed a line?

“You read about me?” he asked to your surprise, likely catching you deep in thought.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though your heart still beat out your chest. “Superheroes are a popular topic for peer-reviewed journals and doctoral theses. There’s a whole academic subfield about the Winter Soldier— a lot about your role in the war, too.”

His expression was unreadable, but you thought you saw a flicker of something— amusement? Whatever it was, it eased the tension you had accidentally created, and the conversation resumed.

You’ve read plenty about Bucky Barnes—the sharpshooter of the Howling Commandos, Captain America’s trusted sniper. You’ve probably read more about him in the modern age: scholars debating the pardon of the Winter Soldier, professors discussing the Sokovia Accords— a conflict in which he’d been a major player in. You’d disagreed with the Accords, of course, but that’s a story for another time.

Right now, your focus was on the man in front of you, talking about Tolkien and his wonderful languages. See, the peer-reviewed articles about him had painted a stark picture: a kind soul turned into a cold, unfeeling weapon. But they neglected to mention that even after everything, he was still a kind soul. In person, it was hard to reconcile the man before you with the image of a killer.

The paper also failed to mention a pleasant surprise: his mind. You realised now that Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a soldier; he was sharp, curious, a man who loved literature and sought out conversations that challenged him. It was something the world overlooked.

Yet it was there, just beneath the surface.

“Have you read the Silmarillion?” you ventured.

“I tried,” He grimaced. “Felt like reading a textbook. Not sure I even made it halfway.”

“That’s fair,” you admitted with a laugh. “It’s not the easiest read. But it’s worth it, I promise.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t shut the idea down, either.

You made a snap decision. Reaching behind the counter, you pulled out your personal copy of The Silmarillion. It wasn’t a rare edition, but it was filled with your notes in the margins, a map you’d sketched for reference, and little Post-its marking key passages. “Take this,” you offered, holding it out to him.

He hesitated, not used to kindness from beautiful strangers. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. Hopefully the notes will make it easier. And don’t even worry about returning it,” you nodded, “It’s probably for the best. I obsess over it too much.”

He took the book, his metal fingers brushing against yours as he did, making your stomach flutter. “Thanks.”

“And if you’re curious about all those papers written about you...” You looked through bookmarks on your laptop, typing ‘James Barnes’ into the search bar. You jotted down a list of academic articles you’d read— some about his time in WWII, others about his unique role as a postwar icon. “Here. If you want to see what people are saying.”

He smiled that kind smile again, folding the paper carefully and tucked it into his jacket. “I appreciate it.”

When he left with the first edition of The Hobbit, your annotated Silmarillion, and your list of articles about him, you found yourself staring at the door long after it had closed, hoping it wasn’t the last time he’d visit your shop.

—

Bucky started coming in more frequently, always buying another rare book— Hemingway, Orwell, Lovecraft. The pretense was paper-thin, though, and you both knew it.

Sure, he enjoyed books, but by that point he knew he could’ve gotten cheaper copies on a bid online (rent in a big city was expensive)— and the books he bought weren't even that rare.

Each visit turned into a lengthy discussion that carried you through the night, far past the shop’s usual closing time.

One afternoon, he returned something unexpected: your well-worn copy of The Silmarillion. Admittedly, you’d missed it— its once-pristine pages now brimming with additional notations—his handwriting mixing with yours.

“I had to,” he said, an almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Your notes made me see it differently. It felt like a conversation.”

You opened it, thumbing through the pages, your eyes catching his commentary. He had sharp, incisive thoughts: challenging some of your interpretations, expanding on others, and sometimes adding playful jabs in the margins when he disagreed with your analysis.

“This is dangerous,” you said, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “Do you really want a debate about Tolkienian theology?”

“I’ve got time, doll,” he said with a grin, settling onto the stool by the counter. Your cheeks flushed at the nickname, hearts doing backflips in your ribcage.

And so, that evening, you indulged in the mind of James Buchanan Barnes, exploring his thoughts and musings about Middle-earth. For the next two hours, the two of you argued about the nature of Ilúvatar’s creation, the Fëanor tragic story, and whether or not Morgoth represented a failure of divine providence.

“I’ll admit,” he said at one point, leaning back and crossing his arms, “I wasn’t expecting it to feel so... biblical.”

“It’s a way to think about creation through the lens of fantasy,” you replied, your voice softening as you traced your fingers over the book’s cover. “There’s a reason people get lost in it.”

He watched you for a moment, his gaze lingering, his smile fading into something softer.

It wasn’t the only time your conversations would take a turn like this. A week later, gothic monsters were your battlefield.

Bucky leaned against the counter, an old edition of Dracula he had just purchased in his hands, the worn leather squeaking as he shifted. His brow furrowed in that way that always made you wonder what he was thinking— though you had a feeling he was about to pick a fight, again.

“You’re out of your mind if you think Frankenstein beats Dracula,” he said, glancing up, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I’m not saying they’re even comparable,” you countered, crossing your arms as you leaned against the opposite side of the counter. “They’re completely different genres. It’s not a fair fight. But if it were... Frankenstein wins. Hands down.”

Bucky chuckled, a low, warm sound that made it impossible not to smile. “You think that because you’re obsessed with sci-fi. If it’s got a fake scientist and a lot of regret, you’re sold.”

“And you think Dracula is better because it’s all dark and broody,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow, “sound familiar?” You smirked, mirroring his stance against the opposite side of the counter. “Besides, Frankenstein is a masterpiece—philosophy, morality, hubris—it’s got layers. What’s Dracula got? Melodrama?”

“Hey! Dracula has layers!” Bucky chuckled low in his throat, setting the book down. “It’s about primal fear, wrapped in ancient powers, wrapped again in the clash between tradition and modernity.”

“It is enjoyable, I must admit, but it’s just a glorified soap opera.” You groaned, though your lips twitched in spite of yourself. “Shelley’s work makes you think, you know? It’s art.”

“Art?!” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse skip. “It’s a guy making bad decisions and spending the rest of the book dodging the consequences.”

You straightened, eyes narrowing. “It’s about responsibility! The monster is a reflection of Victor’s failure. He’s abandoned and searching for connection—”

“And whining about it,” Bucky interrupted with a smirk, folding his arms. “Dracula doesn’t whine.”

The playful sparring faded when it hit you.

Frankenstein’s monster was created without consent, shaped into something he never chose to be. He was cast out, left to navigate a world that saw him as a mistake. The monster was isolated— burdened by guilt—the question of whether he was defined by the harm he’d done.

“Does he…” you started, gulping, unsure of how he’d react to an outright observation. “Does Frankenstein’s monster make you uncomfortable?”

As you stepped closer, his expression faltered, his eyes dropping to the book in his hands. Slowly, he set it aside, the movement deliberate. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the cold surface of his metal arm before resting there gently. “Does it hit too close to home?” you asked.

He didn’t deny it. A quiet laugh escaped him instead. He shook his head. “You’re too damn perceptive for your own good,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a longing for something you couldn’t quite place.

Your fingers moved in slow circles against his metal hand, and when it twitched beneath your touch, you knew he felt it—knew he felt you.

“The monster was never the villain,” you said, a fragile offering meant to soothe him. “He just needed someone to see him. He can be kind, too.”

His gaze lifted, locking onto yours, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes stole the air from your lungs. For a heartbeat, the world stilled.

Then Bucky’s smirk returned, smaller this time, as he leaned into your touch as if he craved it. “Nice try,” he said, voice lighter but still soft. “You’re not winning this one. Dracula’s better.”

You laughed, the tension breaking just enough to let you breathe again. “You’re impossible, Barnes.”

—

You were afraid you had scared him off after that, but to your surprise, he returned a week later, albeit a bit bruised from a mission.

You’d been reshelving old graphic novels that day (First Edition Hergé that you were quite excited by), the quiet hum of the shop wrapping you in comfortable silence, when you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye. His dark leather jacket hung slightly open, revealing a plain gray shirt that stretched just enough across his chest to draw your eyes. There was a faint cut near his jaw, still healing.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. His eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary. “You look beautiful today. Is that a new dress?”

Your breath caught, and a warmth crept up your neck as you glanced down at the simple, flowy dress you’d chosen that morning. “It is,” you admitted, looking back up at him with a shy smile. “Thanks for noticing.”

“Hard not to,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small, almost teasing smile before he turned toward the shelves.

You busied yourself with reshelving more books behind the counter, but you couldn’t help watching him out of the corner of your eye. His human hand traced idly along the spines, careful not to inflict damage. When he stopped, he plucked a rare-ish pocket 6th edition of Thus Spake Zarathustra from the shelf, his metal fingers glinting faintly in the light of the shop.

“You actually like this guy?” he asked quietly, lifting the book like he was sharing a secret.

“Like is a strong word,” you said, stepping out from behind the ladder. His gaze caught yours, and there was a flicker of something playful in those blue eyes. Your pulse quickened, beckoning him to the counter. “He was no saint, but hardly anyone is. I… appreciate his contribution. It’s not his fault people misuse his work.”

Bucky had witnessed it firsthand: fascists distorting Nietzsche's philosophy, disregarding its complexities, and twisting his ideas into a justification for genocide.

His lips turned upward, a lopsided grin that softened the sharpness of his jaw. His stance shifted, leaning against the counter with a practiced ease. His eyes flickered, taking you in, and when you crossed your arms, his gaze lingered briefly, enough to spark a bubbling heat beneath your skin.

“You don’t think Nietzsche was a proto-fascist, do you?” you asked, tilting your head.

“God, no,” he said quickly, amusement softening his voice. His grin spread, revealing the faintest cute dimple in his cheek. “I’ve read enough to know better. But I don’t exactly buy the Übermensch thing either. It’s too... self-centered for my taste. The whole idea of being ‘beyond good and evil’ feels dangerous.”

“That’s fair,” you said, closing the distance between you as you reached for the book in his hand. Your fingers brushed his as you slipped it from his grasp, his touch warm, steady, almost deliberate. His eyes flickered down to where your hands had met. “There are many flaws in his thinking, but I don’t think the concept is inherently bad,” you continued, the air between you charged with tension. You tilted the book toward him, as though showing him something, though you both knew you weren’t really focused on the pages. “It’s about striving for a better version of yourself. I think he wanted people to create their own meaning, not follow blindly.”

“Maybe,” Bucky murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He shifted closer, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter, the sound echoing in the quiet room. His metal hand rested at his side, the vibranium gleaming faintly as his other hand inched forward, almost brushing yours.

His breath fanned your cheek as he leaned in, close enough now that you could see the stubble along his jaw, the way his lashes framed those blue eyes. “But there’s something so… wrong about thinking you’re the one who gets to decide what’s right,” he whispered, his voice like a secret meant only for you.

He was close, dangerously so— that you could feel his breath on your nose.

The bell above the door chimed suddenly, breaking the moment like shattered glass. Dr. Hart, a lecturer from the local university, stepped inside, a bundle of papers tucked under her arm, and smiled in greeting.

She was a returning customer, here to pick up a special edition of Conversation on Botany that you had tracked down for her.

“That’s $40, Mr. Barnes,” You took a small, steadying breath and waved at Hart with a thumbs up that said I’ve got your book.

His lips twitched into a knowing smile. Hr reached for his wallet, pulling out a few bills. As he handed them to you, his fingers brushed yours again.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, his voice soft, almost teasing.

—

The tipping point came late one evening.

You’d spent the last few hours catalouging a shipment of rare books, the shop’s air thick with the comforting scent of old leather, yellowing paper, and the faint hint of dust that always seemed to cling to ancient texts. The shop was silent save for the scratch of your pen against paper as you logged the latest arrival.

The peace shattered with the familiar jingle of the bell above the door.

“Shop’s closed,” you said without looking up, your voice automatic, your focus still on the fragile spine of a sixteenth-century text.

“Good thing I’m not here to shop,” came the deep, unmistakable voice of Bucky Barnes.

Your hand froze, an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You looked up, finding him leaning against the doorframe with that trademark blend of casual confidence and smoldering intensity. His black Henley stretched across his chest, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms—a sight you tried not to dwell on for too long.

“What are you here for, then?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you tried to sound indifferent.

“Conversation,” he said simply, stepping further inside.

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you returned to your work. “You came all the way here just to talk?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he teased, his lips turning into a sly smile as he perched on the edge of your desk. “I was in the neighborhood.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother responding. Bucky always had a way of pulling your attention, and tonight was no different. You tried to focus on the delicate bindings in front of you, but his overwhelming presence was impossible to ignore.

When he reached for a book from the nearby stack—a copy of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius—you finally gave in.

“Stoicism?” you asked, your tone light with playful mockery.

He flipped the book open, his fingers grazing the thin pages. “You’re really surprised? I thought you’d figure that about me,” he said, glancing up at you with a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “Marcus Aurelius had a lot to say about self-control.”

“And yet here you are…” you replied, gesturing to where he was leaning across your workspace, a soft furrow of amusement on your eyebrows. You decided you could be flirty— eyeing the undone button of his Henley, showing a hint of his skin underneath. “...testing mine.”

The corners of his mouth curved. “Guess I’m doing my part to help you practice.”

You shook your head, half-smiling. “It’s not just about self-control, now is it? It’s about accepting what you can’t change.”

He tilted his head, agreeing with you. “Or a way to stop drowning in things you can’t fix.”

From there, the conversation unfurled like a thread you couldn’t stop pulling. Philosophy, morality, the nature of good and evil—it didn’t take long before you were fully engrossed, debating with a ferocity that surprised even you. Bucky was sharp, quick-witted, and maddeningly good at challenging your points. Every time you thought you had the upper hand, he’d counter with something so precise, so well-argued, that you couldn’t help but admire his mind.

As the debate shifted, you sat on your desk, its surface cluttered with books that were hard to find, but not rare enough to be put in a glass case. Your focus was solely on Bucky, who was pacing the room with measured steps, his hands brushing against the edges of shelves every so often as though grounding himself.

“Alright,” you said, leaning forward, crossing your legs. “Here’s a question for you: Should Batman kill the Joker?”

Slowly, he turned and walked closer to you, his shoes thudding softly against the floor. He stopped just short of your legs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, making your pulse quicken.

Oh, that piqued his interest.

“I should’ve known you’d bring up Batman.” Bucky’s lips curved into a smirk, eyeing up the first print of 90s DC comics in the corner of the room that hadn’t been there two days ago— a fresh delivery, perhaps? You were always very topical, and the recent restocks somehow always made their way into conversation.

“It’s a valid moral dilemma,” you said, straightening, your chin lifting slightly.

He tilted his head, his expression a blend of amusement and challenge. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Of course he should,” You didn’t hesitate, the answer rolling off your tongue with absolute conviction. “The Joker is a mass murderer. Every time Batman spares him, more people die. His refusal to act is just as bad as pulling the trigger himself.”

Bucky’s smile lingered, but his gaze grew darker, ever so slightly. “So you’re saying Batman’s refusal to kill makes him complicit?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, leaning in slightly, the heat of the argument pulling you closer. “Batman’s morality is Kantian—rigid rules and all. But if he were more… utilitarian, he’d save more lives. The greatest good for the greatest number. One life to save countless others.”

“That kind of math doesn’t scare you?” Bucky asked, leaning back as though to put some distance between you, though his eyes stayed locked on yours. “Once you start deciding whose lives matter more, where do you stop?”

“It’s not about worth,” you argued, the intensity rippling from him unnerving but impossible to look away from. “It’s about outcomes. If you can prevent suffering, don’t you have a responsibility to do it?”

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should’ve. His jaw clicked a bit, tightening as he considered your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, shyer.

“If that’s your stance, then maybe someone should’ve killed the Winter Soldier years ago.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, your breath catching. The implication of his statement filled the room, coiling tight around your chest.

“Bucky,” you said quickly, panic creeping into your voice, your fingers twitching toward him but freezing halfway. “That’s not—”

The corner of his mouth curved into a small, fragile smile. “Relax,” he said, holding up a hand, his voice dipping into something gentler. “I’m not offended. This is just a debate, right?”

“It’s not the same,” you insisted, your voice gentler, almost pleading. You stood from your desk, hesitation in your chest as you reached out— you were scared he might pull away, “you were brainwashed.” Slowly, you pressed your hand to his cheek, his stubble rough beneath your palm. It was a wordless apology—a pathetic attempt to comfort, to reach him where words had failed.

To your surprise, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he leaned into your touch.

Bucky, slid his arm around your waist, testing the waters. His eyes flicked to yours, searching for any sign of rejection, any hint that he’d crossed a line. But there were none. Instead, the subtle hitch in your breath and the way you leaned into him told him everything he needed to know.

He shook his head, rubbing soft circles on your hip as if to say you’re okay. This conversation is more than okay. “But in the grand scheme of utilitarianism, it shouldn’t matter, right? My life was a liability. More people would’ve been saved if I hadn’t been around to hurt them.”

His words settled over you like a storm cloud. The silence stretched, your carefully crafted argument unraveling in the face of his lived experience.

He leaned forward then, bridging the space between you, his arm pinning you in place. “Maybe I understand Batman better than most,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “Killing someone doesn’t always fix what’s broken. It just leaves you with blood on your hands.”

Your throat tightened, the words sticking. He was too close now, the tension between you buzzing like a static current.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it.

“Don’t be.” His words were soft as he pulled you closer. There was always a hint of warmth in his eyes, an unspoken kindness you admired.

The room felt smaller now, more heated. You opened your mouth to respond, but his words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

He leaned in, his voice dropping. “It’s easy to talk about morality in the abstract. But when you’re staring someone in the face—when it’s a real person, and not just an idea—it gets a lot harder to play God.”

Shit.

He was right.

Maybe utilitarianism wasn’t a steadfast rule. Maybe it couldn’t be, not when you factored in the messy, unpredictable depths of human existence. Lives weren’t just numbers to balance on a scale—they were stories, choices, pain, hope. And Bucky… Bucky was proof of that.

Your thoughts churned as you looked at him.

You felt your conviction unravel. It wasn’t just that his argument was sound—though it was (infuriatingly so)—it was the way he’d delivered it, the personal truth lending it undeniable power. And that’s when it hit you. That’s why you found him so damn attractive.

Sure, he was gorgeous. The sharp lines of his jawline, the piercing blue of his eyes, the way his Henley stretched over his shoulders like it had been designed with him in mind. But that wasn’t it. Not entirely.

It was him. His humanity. His thoughtfulness. The kindness that softened the edges, the depth that came from wrestling with his own darkness and coming out better on the other side.

And he was brilliant. For the first time, you felt like you’d met your match. Someone who met you on your turf and stood his ground, someone who didn’t just nod along or agree to avoid conflict. Someone who could challenge you, who could look you in the eye and make you see the world differently.

You thought you’d built your worldview on unshakable foundations, but he’d cracked it wide open, and now all you could do was stare at him with the dawning realisation that this wasn’t just attraction. It was something deeper, something that terrified and thrilled you in equal measure.

He wasn’t just a match for you physically; he was your intellectual equal—a rare kind of connection that made your pulse race and left your thoughts spinning.

Before you could stop yourself, before you could think it through, you leaned forward and kissed him.

It was impulsive—a collision of lips born from the fiery tension that had simmered between you for weeks. It was everything unsaid, every glance, every near touch that had lingered just a fraction too long, all boiling over in one moment. He froze for the briefest heartbeat, but then something in him snapped. His hands found you, pulling you closer, his grip possessive, almost desperate. Your hands made their way through the soft strands of his hair, landing comfortably around his neck.

The kiss, slow at first, quickly became frantic. Neither of you could get enough. The only thing that mattered was him—his lips on yours, his touch, the way his body pressed against you like a promise.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours, his lips curled into a breathless smile. For a second, he could forget about everything that has happened to him. For a second, he was truly, utterly safe in your arms.

“I didn’t think you were the type to kiss someone in the middle of a moral argument about Batman,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his lips grazing yours with every word, sending shivers down your spine.

“And I didn’t think you’d let me,” you replied, your voice laced with a mischievous edge.

His eyes darkened, his smile widening just enough to make your heart race before he closed the distance again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. This time, it wasn’t careful or calculated—it was raw, fervent, consuming. Your back hit the desk behind you, his hands sliding around your waist and around the curve of your bum, firm and deliberate, setting every nerve in your body on fire.

“The books,” he mumbled against your lips, glancing at the teetering stack beside you, the volumes threatening to topple.

“I don’t care,” you said breathlessly, and to prove your point, you swiped the entire stack to the floor with a crash. The sound echoed, but you barely heard it over the roaring thump of your heartbeat in your ears.

They weren’t too rare. You’ll just put them on the discount aisle tomorrow.

His response was a low, guttural groan, his lips finding yours again, His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make your head tilt back, exposing the sensitive curve of your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, his lips and teeth trailing along your skin, finding the spot just below your ear that made you gasp.

“Did I manage to change your mind this time?” he murmured against your ear, his voice rough and unsteady as his lips brushed against your jaw, then lower, tracing a heated path along your collarbone.

You managed a breathless laugh, your fingers slipping under his shirt to trace the veins under his skin, his muscles tensing under your touch. “Okay, so maybe ‘the greatest good for the greatest number’ isn’t always the best approach when you’re the one holding the short end of the categorical imperative,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

His laugh was husky, his hands lower to grip your thighs, pushing himself flush against you. “God, you’re something else,” he said, his lips finding yours again, this time slower, deeper, as though savoring you. When he finally pulled back, his voice was hoarse. “Do you want to go on a date?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “You’re seriously asking me that now?” you asked, breathless. With your hands trailing over the planes of his chest, his breath mingling with yours, it seemed a bit out of order, but you weren’t about to complain.

“Yes,” he said, his words dead serious despite the way his hands clutched at your shirt, his lips finding the hollow of your throat. He kissed the spot slowly, firmly, making your legs feel numb. “I mean it,” he added, his voice softer, yet no less insistent.

You let out a breathless laugh, tugging him into another kiss, the kind that left no room for doubt about your answer. “Then yes,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “We’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

And boy, were you excited to talk to this man— a man who could turn the simplest circumstances into a philosophical debate, someone who wasn’t afraid to dispute your ideals.

Someone who was your match.

“Later,” he rasped, his voice gravelly with need, his hands trailing up to tug his henley over his head in one fluid motion. The sight of him stole the breath from your lungs, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it before he was kissing you again, his bare skin pressed against you as he lifted your shirt off. “We can talk later.”

-end.

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saturniolos · 10 months ago

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besties (matt sturniolo x reader) ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

notes: this took me days. i am going BLIND plz show sum love &&&&& hey——— come talk to me ! (btw this type of editing/social media aus have been around for ages- credit goes to the person who came up with it first!!)

yourusername

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yourusername happy 20th my boys. thank u for driving me around and feeding me and being the greatest airbnb hosts when i be acting up … 🦌🦌🦌🤍 love you always.

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yourusername

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yourusername i lvoe crazy bitchsees 😍⏰🪩🐎🦋 !!!◡̈!! guys i went skiing for the first time as well- can u tell :-)))…

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yourusername

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yourusername new year new me xo

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matthew.sturniolo I love you 🤟🏼

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kithtaehyung · 4 months ago

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bet wrong (3tan717) | myg

drabble: bet wrong pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 | one rating/genre: pg (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after seeing how comfortable yoongi is in his place with your brother and their friends, it’s hard for you to leave… but it’s also hard for you to stay. note: apologies for all the late postings! but kim yeji’s aura was so strong it made me write about her so here we are hahaha. it's not really edited cus i just wrote this up and posted so apologies for any mistakes! note 2: this is in a pocket universe in the three tangerines series, so if you haven’t read the series yet, these characters would make more sense if you did hehe. even though this is very heavily influenced by the olympics, i’m keeping it as easy to read as i can. you can imagine them watching any of the events happening lol warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, angst, olympics talk, yoongi fights back??, the Yearning is Strong, reader is a tease, shiv is back!, brother and jimin are dorks, but so is everyone else, yoongi on the phone, he's so down bad y'all i wanna cry :(( drop date: august 1st, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 2.3k (just like the first drabble omg?)

—

“Hey, you made it!”

“Oh, shit, look who’s here!”

After a quick greeting to everyone in Yoongi’s living room, you slip off your shoes with a distracted, “I can’t stay long but, I’m here!”

Even though the handsome devil next to you shoots a look, it’s your brother that speaks up, “Wait, why?”

“I’m meeting my friends in a bit.” You hand a still-quiet Yoongi some snacks you brought for everyone, asking a question with a very obvious answer, “Where should I put these?”

He blinks before forcing out, “Over here.”

“K.”

Sounds of conversation and sports games spring about. Jimin’s clearly in some sort of squabble with your brother and Shiv is fanning the flames. There’s a couple guys you recognize but don’t really know talking on the opposite side of the coffee table, but they’re all watching the Olympics and giving their own comments.

Hopefully it’s noisy enough to shroud your dizzying thoughts. Because Yoongi looks damn good in his casual fit and his hair speaks volumes.

What you would give to run your fingers through those waves. Following him through his bustling apartment is already giving you the shivers, so what would a sudden touch feel like? A burst of fire?

“I’ll take those,” he instructs, taking the bags from you and pulling everything out with crinkles. When he sees a certain bag, his blinks make you giggle.

It’s a specific chip he likes, recently divulged during a long night of learning things about one another—like favorite foods, and how fast or slow he likes you riding.

So of course you threw it in your basket before heading over.

Commentators make conversation on the television as you shrug, “Don’t ask me, I dunno how those got in there.”

God, that smile always makes you melt. And he proceeds to turn you into mush as he shows gratitude under his breath,

“Thanks, doll.”

“Seriously, I think they just handed me those,” you joke, trying your best to not do any of the million and three things you want to. “Said I was cute or something.”

His laugh is immediate. But it’s shoved away by cheers and yells, and both of you pop out of the kitchen to see what happened on the tv.

Something big must have went down because even Yoongi reacts, scaring you with a delayed reaction,

“Holy shit, what happened? Sorry,” he immediately apologizes at your flinch, putting a daring but comforting hand on your lower back before making his way to the group.

Did he really just…

He is lucky your brother didn’t see from the other side of the couch.

That was the boldest Yoongi’s ever been and he’s quite literally kissed you in your kitchen.

“Yeji got silver.”

“What? Wait, run it back!”

“I thought she'd take it!"

Chill out. Relax, relax, relax. Everyone else is clearly entranced by whatever happened and no one is even looking at you. Relax.

But damn, that touch meant a lot more than an apology.

Seems like the one vocally surprised at the replay wants to do a million and three things, too.

On your emotional decrescendo, you scuttle back to grab a plastic cup. No use in trying to join them anyway. All you can do for now is get a drink in a kitchen you’re not supposed to know your way around.

Being in his place while your brother is too is quite the experience.

However.

This is absolutely the ideal situation you should be in. You would be the one showing up at Yoongi’s at the invitation of your brother, and it would be a small party where you blend right into the background with minimal interaction.

But of course, the feelings of distance and guilt creep onto your feet, rooting you in place and forcing you to watch from afar.

They’re all checking their phones and pointing at each other—accusingly? Excitedly?—before switching between different games on the tv and yelling at each other.

And while you adore them for being such lovable geeks about this, your eyes cannot stop pinning Yoongi with longing. He’s so radiant doing the most normal things, and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he’s comfortable and at home.

He’s perfect.

Your heart’s warm.

And the cup in your hand never touches your mouth.

—

After you take a seat at his dining table—yet another thing you should not know anything about—you cycle between watching them interact and scrolling on your apps.

At first, you thought you were safe. Staying in the back and letting them have their own time together is good enough for you, especially since you were invited by your brother to stop by.

Really, you were just a courier for food they wanted.

But it was on the way. And it’s a chance to see someone you’ve been missing.

So of course you faked reluctance to come.

The plan was to do exactly this. Hang back until you had to leave, maybe have a bite or two, and try hard not to yearn for Yoongi too long.

Failed step three.

But also now step one, because Shiv decides to twist around to yell, “Hey! Come join us!”

“I’m good over here,” you reply, smiling when he gives you a look.

“Suit yourself!”

One of the guys you recognize but don’t really know gets off the couch to head into the kitchen, asking a question as he opens the fridge.

Wait, he’s asking you something? You?

You leave your chair so you can hear him better, and when he repeats his question you respond.

“Want a drink?”

“Oh, uhh. Sure.”

“Pick your poison. Yoongi doesn’t have much but it’s all strong.”

He’s pretty cute. But then again, all your brother’s friends seem to end up this way. “Water’s fine,” you say with a light smile. “I have to be somewhere else in a minute.”

“Leaving so soon?” He grabs a cup to fill with your choice before handing it over. Leaning against the same counter Yoongi has smushed you against many times, the man takes a sip of his beer. “You just got here.”

“I was told to bring food.”

“Ah, come on. You can stay a bit.”

Uh huh.

Bold choice to be flirting with the company present today.

But you know what to do. Swerve. “What even happened back there? You guys scared the shit outta me.”

From the creases of his eyes, your plan works. “Oh, Yeji? She was supposed to win gold.”

“Feel like she won anyway.”

You both snap your heads over to the kitchen threshold, and your stomach could win a floor routine with the amount of flips it completes. “How come?” You decide to ask, throwing both guys for a loop.

It’s Yoongi that responds first, “She’s trending from a video back in May.”

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Fucking boss. But yeah, none of us got that one right,” his friend responds, which leaves you intrigued.

“Got it right?”

“Mmhmm. We picked her for gold.” Glancing over at Yoongi now crossing between to get to his fridge, he claps his back. “Even this guy bet wrong and he’s usually right.”

“Bet with my heart,” your secret drones as he cracks open a bottle.

“We all did, bro.”

Fucking hell, that move was hotter than it should’ve been.

But now you’re kinda invested in what they’re all doing, so you ask how the whole thing works.

Which leads you to sitting in the living room with everyone three whole minutes later.

“So all of these are events, and I pick what I think happens?”

“Yup!”

“Good luck.”

“Choose quick, the next games start soon.”

Everyone’s eyes are on your paper as you look at the options, with some laughs and comments as you circle your choices.

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

“Hey, hey, no help.”

You glance at your brother and Yoongi before laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing but this is fun.”

Their amusement is noticeable.

“If you get any of those right, I’ll be surprised,” your sibling teases, earning a laugh from Yoongi and a counterpoint from Jimin,

“Dark horse?”

“Nah, no chance.”

Park’s shoulders raise as he smirks. “It's all luck, you never know..”

Huffing, you pretend to have confidence for days, just happy that you get to be involved and not hang back like the initial plan. “Yeah, I have masterclass intuition, don’t you know?”

Reactions pop and fizz around you.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Master class, huh..”

“We have a hustler here!”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi’s at Shiv's comment, and you both share a quick, mirth-filled, intimate stare.

This really is a lot more fun already.

Your phone buzzing is the one thing that interrupts, and you immediately feel relieved and saddened by the fact that you have to go.

Finishing up, you hand your brother your picks before standing, heading to the door and saying that you have to leave.

“Wait, already?”

“Tell them you’re busy!”

“I kinda want to,” you admit, feeling a little shy at all the eyes on you. “But we’re watching a movie and tickets are stupid expensive now.”

Yoongi’s already next to you as he waits to let you out. “You okay to drive?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I just had water.”

“K.”

Why does he have to be so considerate right now? Now you just wanna stay here instead of sit through whatever movie your friends picked!

“Be careful,” your brother comments from the living room, and you wave goodbye.

“I will. Y’all have fun!”

“Okay!”

Facing Yoongi, you wanna do so many things. Hug him, hold him, kiss the shit out of him for his exuding presence in the kitchen earlier.

“Thanks for the food.”

But you obviously can’t.

So you settle for giving him a smile. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you decide to say. “Have fun tonight.”

You get a small lift of his lips in return. “You, too.”

“Yeah.. I’ll try.”

Hearing sounds from outside as you walk to your car, you feel the loneliest imaginable.

But alas.

It’s still not your place to stay.

—

Much, much later, you check your phone after the movie ends and you’re all walking out. While the girls are busy discussing the movie and Taehyung's checking his phone, you're greeted with two very surprising keystrokes.

Yoongi [9:30pm]: :(

He texted that so long ago. Did something happen?

You [10:34pm]: you ok?

All of you talk for just a little longer. When you finally get into your car, you wave goodbye at everyone before looking at your device again, wondering what the heck warranted this rogue of a text.

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Just miss you

Well, fuck.

Heart clenching, your fingers skirt across the screen.

You [10:45pm]: i miss you too.. i didn’t wanna leave😭

Yoongi [10:45pm]: You did though😔

There are plenty of people in the lot. Many people walking past as you wait in your car.

And all you can do is stare at your screen.

Is… Is he drunk?

Yoongi [10:46pm]: So now you have to make it up to me :)

That catches you so off-guard you scoff at your screen through a smile.

You [10:46pm]: don’t be a loser!!

Yoongi [10:46pm]: I’m your loser

Cheeks hurting from your shy as hell grin, you bite your lip to keep your screams from alerting people in the nearby theatre.

How dare this man be this bold when your brother is over there!

If he’s gonna keep this shocking behavior up, who are you to not play into it? You fucking miss him and imagining being there and being yourselves—your true selves—makes your chest clench.

You [10:46pm]: not today you weren’t :\

And now you have to make the drive to a house that no one's occupying.

This is so hard. So, so hard.

But you have to keep going until that one day comes. If it ever does. The day you can do whatever you want with the man you’d fight the universe for? No one will know how to react, and frankly you don’t give a shit about that.

And then you wonder.

Does Yoongi feel the same?

Yoongi [10:48pm]: They're still here

Yoongi [10:48pm]: You down to come back?

Oh.

You are.

Yes, yes, yes you are.

Grateful eyes shut, forehead hitting your steering wheel and heart hurting but still burning lovingly.

There’s no fighting how desperately you want to see him. Especially after seeing him so happy earlier today. Of course you’re going to go. You’d cross mountains even if that meant you’d only get to see him from afar.

Because—and this you know for sure—he would do the same.

...But that doesn't mean you won't prank him just a little bit.

You [10:49pm]: don't bet on it w ur heart again💕

Buzzing with excitement, you start your car and pull out of the lot, calling your brother and letting him know you’re coming back.

“K! You gonna bring food again?”

Normally, you would say fuck no and hang up. But you’re so elated you get to go back, and imagining Yoongi's shock makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want?”

“Wait, really? Hey! What do we want for dinner—”

“Wait!” You interject, something pinging into your mind and igniting your curiosity. “How are my picks doing?”

There’s a scuffle on the line, and you can hear your brother complain, Jimin laugh, and a very, very familiar voice answer from your brother’s phone.

Because Yoongi’s voice drones so beautifully through the speaker, and you can’t stop your cackling when he responds,

“Turns out Jimin was right.”

“Damn, I'm the best,” you boast, earning a loud laugh from him and welcoming the way your cheeks hurt with open arms. “Show me that video you were talking about when I get there?”

This is safe to say. It's all you really can say.

There's a little bit of silence before he answers how he can, too.

“Yeah, I will.”

Mm. Maybe Yoongi does feel the same.

“Nice," you whisper. Lips curved up in hope, you keep your voice neutral, “See you soon!”

Again, he responds how he's supposed to. And right after, you both hang up exactly as expected.

For now.

“See you soon.”

—

fin. :)

how did the second 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe | three tangerines

a/n: love you love you love you. that's really all i can say. but also, here's the video of kim yeji being an absolute badass in may and i cannot stop thinking about her GAHHHHHH and now the guy from turkey?? hello?? this year is so fun and interesting istg!!

#well hello LMAO #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #three tangerines #3tan7172 #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fluff #*latest #ryenwrites #3tanextras #yoongi angst

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