#I will not be normal about these two......
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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 days ago
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asking sincerely. do you see a romance between jayce and viktor? do you think they ended up being something romantic at the end?
With apologies I am going to only half talk about the thing you are asking me, since I have something else on my mind and you happened to hit the button that makes me vomit it into words.
Coming at this from an aromantic perspective, I obviously don't experience the state of absurd obsessive delusion that you bizarre romantic freaks fetishize so feverishly*, but I am often annoyed by the idea that friendship and romance are either opposites or mutually exclusive. From my perspective, the boundary between the two is at best thin, and more realistically not actually a boundary at all except by cultural construction.
*i am taking an excessively hostile, crass tone for my own amusement i do not mean this seriously please be normal at me, weird allo freaks
I won't get into my full feelings about the end of Arcane, but it seems perfectly plain to me that the script, the imagery and the animation presents Jayce and Viktor as two halves of a whole, not opposing forces but alike to yin and yang: opposites which each contain the other. And at the climax of the show, the greatest peril to life and peace in the narrative is resolved by these two men literally joining their bodies and souls together, and going into eternity holding one another for comfort and strength. They are quite literally soulmates, quite literally the most important people in one another's lives.
I don't think that that kind of intimate emotional connection between men must necessarily be either romantic or sexual - I am aromantic, and plenty of ace people exist, and there is nothing in our natures excluding us from intense connections of love with other people of any gender.
I also think it is willfully ignorant (and genuinely homophobic) to act as though these deep connections are mutually exclusive with sex and romance. As though if Viktor and Jayce fucked nasty and made out sloppy style, suddenly their intimacy is less pure or valid, or tainted somehow.
"If these two men who are emotionally close to one another also fuck or get romantically involved, then friendship is dead, murdered on the floor by a dick-shaped knife; vile sexuality corrupts and debases the true, pure and virtuous love of ✨friendship✨" <- This shit is homophobic at a baseline, queerphobic in general, and frankly as an aromantic man I find it pretty fucking insulting as well.
What, are my friendships with other men just inherently more pure and divine, more meaningful and true than a gay man's can ever be, because I will never suffer the vile temptation of adding romance to my affection? Is that how I should think of myself? And is an aroace man more pure than me still, the only source of TRUE male friendship that a man can ever experience, free from the pustulant corruption of sexuality and romantic desire?
You get this pathetic defensiveness (especially from men, but other genders aren't immune) wherein sex and sexuality and romance between men is perceived as a threat to men's right and ability to experience deep connection to each other. But the emotional castration of men comes not from people imagining sex and romance as a component of our relationships - it comes from people who insist that our emotional lives must be ruled by strict binaries. Sex and romance, OR ELSE friendship. Deep romantic connection OR ELSE deep platonic connection. Pick one and do not dare to imagine both, nor act as though the boundary between them is something that we built by cultural fiat, and which can be dismantled just the same.
And yes, yes, yes, I know there are cultural forces literally illuminati-style conspiring to systemically erase the entire existence of explicitly romantic, sexual male love from media, and I know that homophobic puritanism is on the rise and there are material concerns and a real necessity for explicit representation in fiction, yes I know. Everything is more complicated than a tumblr post can cover, I am not trying to Solve Rainbow Capitalism™ over here, I am trying to express frustration as an aromantic man that this stupid fucking binary keeps getting culturally reinforced by both my enemies and my well-meaning allies, when I think the binary is what's fucking killing us in the first place.
So anyway. My position is that Viktor and Jayce can be entirely aromantic no-homo friends, and they can fuck nasty in the throes of mutual need and obsession, and I refuse to entertain the idea that there is an irresolvable contradiction between those things. Each of those can contain the other, or become the other given time and circumstance.
What the imagery, storytelling and script of Arcane makes clear is that Viktor and Jayce love each other more than life itself. To say that that love must be shoved into the box of either "platonic" or "romantic" is to miss out on almost everything that is beautiful about love. It can be both and neither! It can be a secret third, ninth or fifteenth thing that they haven't invented a tag for on Ao3 yet.
They are giving each other whatever the spiritual mind-ghost equivalent of sloppy backshots are on the ethereal plain forever, they are the most romantic lovers in the cosmos, and they are also the most chaste and platonic life-partner friends you have ever seen, effortlessly intimate and unashamedly tender. They are men who love one another, in every way that love matters.
You can pick whichever interpretation brings you joy, and resonates with what your heart needs, the text of the show is eminently and explicity open to it, and anyone who says otherwise either failed to pay attention, or refused to pay attention on purpose.
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luveline · 2 days ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬
You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]
c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.
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It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 
He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 
You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?
You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 
Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 
“Right there with you.”
You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 
“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 
You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 
“Yeah?” he asks. 
“Mm-hm.” 
He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 
“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 
“So you’re in need of company?” 
You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 
“What are you drinking?” 
“Cherry spritzer.” 
“Can I buy you another one?” 
“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 
“What’s that?” he asks. 
You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 
The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 
Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 
“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 
“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”
His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 
“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 
You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 
You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 
“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”
He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 
“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 
“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.
“Spencer.” 
“Yeah?” 
“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 
Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 
“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 
“Just this.” 
“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 
So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 
Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 
He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.
“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 
You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 
You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 
He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 
It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 
“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.
You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 
He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 
“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 
“You don’t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 
Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 
“That was amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 
How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 
“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 
“Nowhere.” 
“So where have you been?” 
He takes a breath. “Turn around?”
You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 
“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 
How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 
You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 
“You okay?” a voice asks. 
You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 
His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 
You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 
“I know, I’m  sorry.” 
You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 
“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 
“I’ll leave soon.” 
“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 
“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 
“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.
His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 
He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 
You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 
“Just while I was waiting for you.” 
“What do you do?” 
“What?” 
“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 
“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 
“Like, statistics?” 
He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 
Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 
“And you’re good at it.” 
“I’m good at math, yeah.” 
“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 
His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 
You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 
“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 
“Me too.” 
“And you’re okay?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 
“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 
“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 
“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 
“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 
You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.
It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 
For a pause, you just sit. 
This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 
“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 
“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 
“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 
”Really?” 
“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 
“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 
You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 
“We might have to stand very close.” 
You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 
— 
Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 
Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 
Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 
Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 
When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 
Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 
“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”
“You’re never disgusting, let me–”
He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 
“Spence, can you–”
“It’s going up your nose–”
“–stop, holy s–”
He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 
“You wanna share?” 
“Yes!” 
“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.
He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 
“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 
“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 
He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 
“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 
“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 
“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 
You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.
You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  
Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 
“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 
You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 
“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”
“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”
“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 
“You know what shampoo I use?” 
“I deduced it.” 
“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”
He smiles shyly. “I just can.”
“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 
“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”
He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 
“You distract me, too.” 
You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”
“I don’t really want you to.” 
You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 
He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 
“I like you too,” he laughs. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah, of course I do.” 
“Not just…” 
“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 
“Should we go out, then?” 
“We do.” 
“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 
Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 
“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 
“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 
“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 
“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 
“And if I don’t?” he asks. 
“Then we get married in Vegas.” 
“You could meet my mom.” 
“I’d love to meet your mom.”
“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 
“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 
“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 
You stroke his cheek with your nose.
Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 
“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.
You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 
“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 
“I can’t remember.” 
“I can remind you?”
“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 
“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 
“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 
Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 
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thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3 
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wonustars · 3 days ago
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In Front of Me (1)
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cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚
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⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)
⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.
⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)
⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !
⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.
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⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p
⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!
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prologue. 
Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 
In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 
He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 
“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 
Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 
Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 
“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 
“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 
“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 
“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 
“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 
“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 
“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 
“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 
“Good night, Wonwoo.” 
Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 
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act one, favorite crime.
chapter one. 
“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 
The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 
It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 
“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 
“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 
Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 
“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 
Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 
“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 
“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 
The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.
You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 
He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 
You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 
two. 
“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 
“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 
Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 
The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 
You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 
“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 
“What did he say?” 
“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 
Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 
“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 
It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 
“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.
three. 
Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?
You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 
A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 
“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 
“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 
“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 
Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 
“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 
Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 
You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 
“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 
“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 
It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 
Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 
“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 
He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 
The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 
“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 
“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 
He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 
Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 
“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 
“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 
“Of course, what are best friends for?” 
four. 
Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.
 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 
If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.
When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 
You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 
When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 
It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 
Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 
When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 
“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 
Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.
You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?
Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.
“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 
“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 
You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 
“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 
Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.
History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 
Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 
five. 
By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 
You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 
Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 
‘What if he likes you back?’ 
‘You never know until you try.’ 
‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 
What if. 
Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 
The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 
A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 
7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 
There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 
Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 
Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 
Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 
The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 
“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 
“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 
Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 
The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 
  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.
The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 
Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 
“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 
“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 
His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 
“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 
Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 
Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 
As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 
Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 
“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 
Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  
“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 
His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 
“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 
“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 
“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 
“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 
“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 
Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 
“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 
Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 
“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 
“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 
“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 
“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 
“And I you.” 
Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 
“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 
The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 
As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 
“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 
“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 
“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 
Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 
“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 
Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  
The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 
Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.
Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 
1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
chapter one. 
Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 
By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 
Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 
He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 
Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 
Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 
Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 
… 
Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 
12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?
Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 
1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁
Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 
2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 
Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.
4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 
The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 
4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 
Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 
Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 
two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 
The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 
Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 
He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.
Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  
Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 
There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 
“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 
Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 
“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 
“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 
“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 
It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 
[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]
He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 
Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 
Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 
[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]
Wonwoo really missed you. 
One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 
He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 
It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 
Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 
Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 
“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 
His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 
“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 
“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 
Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 
“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 
“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 
“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 
“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 
Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 
“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 
“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 
“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 
Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 
“I’m Wonwoo.” 
“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 
Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 
They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 
To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 
By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 
The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 
Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 
Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 
Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 
Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 
On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 
“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 
“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 
“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 
He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 
You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 
It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 
“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 
“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 
Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  
Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 
Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 
three, present time.
The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 
“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 
The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 
“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 
Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 
“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 
Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 
Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 
Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 
“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 
“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 
It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  
“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 
For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 
Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 
“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 
“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 
“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 
“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 
Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 
“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 
“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 
Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 
“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 
Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 
Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 
It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 
Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 
Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.
“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 
“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 
“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.
“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 
“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 
“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 
Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 
four. 
For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 
Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 
Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?��
After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.
That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 
“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  
Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 
The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 
He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 
Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 
There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 
There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.
Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 
The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 
One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 
Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 
[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 
The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 
Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 
“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 
The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 
five. 
Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 
It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 
He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 
Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 
Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 
“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 
Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 
Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 
“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 
Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 
A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 
“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 
“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 
Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 
There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 
Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 
“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 
“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 
“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 
“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 
He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 
Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”
The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 
“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 
The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 
Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 
After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.
With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.
 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 
If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 
As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 
Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 
After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 
“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.
“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 
“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 
His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 
“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 
How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 
“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 
He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 
Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 
“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 
“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 
“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 
The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 
“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 
“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 
“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 
Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 
“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 
“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 
“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 
A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.
The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 
“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 
He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 
Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.
He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.
end of act one.
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⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.
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foxy-eva · 1 day ago
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Send Nudes
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Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex
Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!
Word count: 3.2k
Masterlist
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Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 
It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 
It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 
Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 
A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 
You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 
“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 
You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 
You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 
Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 
“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 
“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 
“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 
“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 
Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 
A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.
“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 
“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.
Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 
“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 
“I’m not… offended.”
You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 
“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 
Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 
The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 
If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.
The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 
He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 
“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”
“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 
He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 
Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”
“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?
He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”
“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”
That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 
You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 
“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”
His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.
His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 
The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 
It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 
He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 
A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.
Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”
The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 
“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”
A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”
“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 
Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”
His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 
Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 
He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 
When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 
Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 
Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 
Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 
It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 
As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”
His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 
“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 
He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 
“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 
“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 
The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.
He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 
You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 
Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 
Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 
“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 
It was everything you wanted right then, too. 
“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 
His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 
He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 
Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 
“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 
Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 
You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 
“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 
He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 
There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.
“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 
His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 
With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 
The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 
You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 
“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 
“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 
Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 
With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 
“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 
The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 
“So, you want to fuck me?” 
“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”
With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 
Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 
“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 
Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 
Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 
“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”
One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 
“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 
With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 
For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 
“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 
You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 
“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 
“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”
Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”
“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”
“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”
Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”
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Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!
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Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings
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endursent · 2 days ago
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My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (2)
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】
【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】
【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】
【 note; made the genshin version... no reason for this to be like 19 pages 😭 】
【 word count; 8.723 | read on ao3 | hsr version】
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Alhaitham ;
Kaveh gaped at you when you brought a cat into the house, one that… looked eerily similar to a certain blockhead. “I can explain,” you say as you set the cat down on the floor, he doesn’t enter the house further than you do, instead sitting down by your feet and observing the interaction with… interest? Amusement…? 
  Kaveh didn’t need much to be convinced, and immediately he thanked the Archons for giving him a few days of respite. Even just a few days of Alhaitham being unable to comment on what he does or nag him is a blessing.
  For you, it’s a bit of a hassle… because he keeps disappearing! Not in an alarming way, because you find him again in the most secluded, quiet spots you would never even think of. Under your laundry, in an empty box that Kaveh hadn’t put away after getting a delivery, and even under the desk in the study—Kaveh accidentally kicked him and got a feisty scratch on his ankle. He learned his lesson. 
  He follows you around and—though he let you pick him up the first time—doesn’t let you carry him around, preferring to walk on his own… and wander off to explore nooks and crannies he has never been able to see, but he always shows up again before you reach your destination. 
  He has also claimed your pillow as his own and refuses to let you use it, loafing on top of it exactly when you thought you could get there before him. Which… in hindsight is fine, you’re not opposed to using his pillow, it smells like him after all. 
  You decided to test how much of a cat he really is, whether it’s appearance alone or instinctual as well and bought a cat toy with a whisker on the end as well as a small bell below it. You expected him to perk up and try to whack or catch it as soon as you wriggled it beside him… but his grey furred ears just lowered in annoyance and he hopped off the kitchen counter, it seems like having even more sensitive ears in this state makes his dislike for uncomfortable noises more intense. 
  He forgave you when you spent ten minutes scratching the itchy spot behind his ears after tracking him down. A small, rumbling purr left his chest as you moved your hand to scratch under his chin—he was, however, more curious about this instinctual reaction and demanded you continue after you drew your hand back.     Despite it being very much an unspoken rule between the two of you that neither of you should be disturbed ‘needlessly’ when reading or working at home, when you borrowed a few books from the Akademiya to try and figure out how to turn your partner back to normal, Alhaitham decided it would be very reasonable for him to lay down over your book… which you are very much trying to read.
  But when you ask him what he needs, he just blinks at you three times, very slowly. You’ll likely never be able to crack that brain of his, even in a form that is somehow far more expressive.
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Arataki Itto ;
It’s difficult enough to keep track of him—and keep him out of trouble—on a normal day… now? You took your eyes off him for a second, and he’s gone. Shinobu split up with you to cover more ground while the rest of the gang scoured the streets of Inazuma City, at least as much as they could.
  You peek between baskets, crates and stalls, walk through tight alleys and even squint into a few windows… nothing!
  You had been very close to giving up and returning back to the meeting point by the bridge… until you heard a very distressed, very loud meowing. Following the sound, you come to a tree stretching over the gardens of a teahouse. What looks to be the owner of it stands below the tree with a basket, trying to ask Itto—stuck up on a wobbling branch—to jump into it.
  Exasperation is one way to describe what you feel as you approach the old lady, you put your hands on your hips and Itto notices you immediately. His meowing turns from frantic and panicked… to a sheepish pleading. Every movement he makes causes the branch to sway and wobble, and it looks like it could easily bend and break—and you don’t want to cause any trouble for the teahouse owner. “Itto, come on, hop down.”
  He meows and shakes his head, white fur swishing dramatically. 
  A sigh leaves you as you step closer and hold your arms open. “I’ll catch you, trust me,” you encourage him… and he finally relents, with wobbling paws, he leaps from the branch—fur shining in the sun as he practically flies in the air towards your open arms… and lands on your head. He panics and tries to adjust and not fall off, and you try to pry him away from your face as his belly nearly suffocates you—it’s a scene from a comedic play.
  Shinobu is glad for her mask, because when you return with Itto under your arm you have scratches on your face and forehead, and Itto is whining and meowing sorrowfully. 
  He spends the entire evening licking your ‘wounds’, dragging his coarse cat tongue over every spot so often that the licking starts to become more painful than the scratches themselves. But you let him, it makes him feel much better than you—and you don’t particularly need comfort, but if he doesn’t get it, he will whine all night. 
  So you let him knead your thighs and stomach even as his claws prick through your clothes and you make sure to pet him and stroke his fur when he snuggles against you… and then you wake up in the middle of the night, suffocating with his furred belly against your face when the lies on top of you.
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Baizhu ;
You’re very happy that Baizhu is catching a break—something you often try to convince him to do—despite the strange way of being forced into it… however, it’s very difficult to focus on running the pharmacy in his place by yourself while also trying to make sure he doesn’t roll off the shelf he’s napping on… especially because Changsheng wriggles in her sleep and keeps nudging him closer to the edge.
  You decide it’s easier if you have them sleeping on separate surfaces and reach up to pick up your pliant partner-turned-cat. He effectively falls into your arms and blinks lazily, slightly confused by the sudden transport. “Just moving you so you don’t hit your head,” you dodge around Qiqi as she runs past you with an armful of jars and set Baizhu down on the counter, his tail sways lazily and he immediately flops on his side as a beam of sunlight sneaks through the window and directly onto his fur.
  Every time a customer comes by—with approval—they give Baizhu a small pet or scratch before leaving, as if paying tribute to the good doctor. He doesn’t seem to mind.
  Unfortunately, you’re not fit to take Baizhu’s place for consultations, and thus they all get delayed—which was a hell of a lot of work to contact everyone and change scheduling—until Baizhu is back to normal. The usual hours of consultation in the morning are therefore replaced with longer opening hours of the pharmacy and by pulling some strings, an increased stock of rarer products at a discounted price. 
  Changsheng does not let poor Baizhu catch a break, she wiggles her tail and swipes it in front of his paws, and unable to control the feline instincts harbouring his body—Baizhu chases after her tail like a kitten playing with a toy. He whacks at it and tries to capture it, but the white snake is far quicker than even you expected her to be as a sudden game of cat and mouse (snake) takes over your living room.
 The feline form, however, doesn’t come with free stamina—and Baizhu is not in good shape. He flops down on the carpet, exhausted from the play even as only seven minutes have passed. You feel a bit bad and scoop him up for some cuddling, which seems to be just the remedy he needed. 
  Baizhu is very careful around the clinic, he doesn’t knock anything over—even though he REALLY wants to sometimes, and is mindful of not getting fur or saliva on anything that could potentially be consumed by anyone with allergies. Changsheng has taken to wrapping herself around your shoulders instead, and though you’re used to her, it’s a little annoying to get a comment on every little thing you do. 
  But at the end of the day, Baizhu curls up next to you and you wake with him lying over your chest, belly to the skies and paws in the air, comfortable and content. Though you will always prefer him in his normal state, he is very cute like this.
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Cyno ;
You look around the large front hall of the House of Daena, panting slightly as you try to catch your breath… that damn Cyno! Making you chase him across the entire city! 
  You spot some pawprints and squint as you look around… he’s not bringing all that dirt into the house—you were just going to rinse him a bit, but he’s run off! You finally spot dark and creamy coloured fur… perched up high on a massive decorative piece of the wall. He looks down at you with a swaying tail, completely at ease knowing that you won’t be able to catch him all the way up there.
  You almost consider inquiring about one of those massive ladders the library has to reach the high shelves, it might be long enough…
  But very well, he wins this round. 
  Once he turned into a cat, you were very excited about petting him, rubbing his ears and stroking his tail—but he’s not having any of it. Sometimes, you wonder if someone stuck a firework in his ass and lit it up, because the bouts of zoomies he gets is so frequent you wondered if there was something wrong—but you couldn’t catch him to take to a vet either! 
  After the first few days, Cyno seems to calm down… a little. He still prefers to survey the area (your living room) from above (your bookshelf) and watch you go about your day. It’s quite cute how his perked ears twitch every time you make a noise, as if he’s completely focused on what you’re doing.
  You soon find out after stepping a bit too close to the bookshelf that he might have just been waiting to strike, because he leaps onto your head as soon as you’re in range. 
  The only reason you know he’s fully conscious in that furred head is because while you were cleaning up after dinner, you spotted him sitting next to a cup of tea that was half-filled. You tense as you watch his paw raise to knock it off. “Cyno! Don’t,” you try to sound scolding.
  He looks up at you, he lowers his paw… then raises it again, making you glare at him. He lowers it again, turns away… you turn back to wiping the dishes and look over your shoulders after a few seconds—his paw is raised again!
  This back and forth continued until he finally knocked it over.
  And then he has the audacity during the next day’s dinner to sound like he has never been fed in his life while you’re trying to eat in peace. Meowing at you so loudly one would think he was terribly injured, eyes wide and mouth open. You hope your neighbours don’t think you’re trying to starve him, or treat him horribly.
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Dainsleif ;
He’s not happy about it, he has things to do—places to be and investigations to make. Thankfully you’re familiar with where you were going next… but Dainsleif is very limited in what he can do. You decide to give him the task of scouting and sneaking around, something he’s used to doing anyway… but he finds that it’s much more effective to do so as a cat. His footsteps are completely silent and his senses are much sharper.
  Though, he had an instinctual need to swat at a glowing orb that you found in a strange vault half-buried in a cave in Fontaine before he could stop himself—which closed the two of you inside the vault. Thankfully he is now small enough that he could slip out between the bars and unlock it from the other side.
  It is quite cute how his ears flattened as you walked out, as if he was sorry. Though he seemed okay after you scratched behind his ears and assured him it was okay, he was here to help you out after all! His tail swayed in satisfaction to your assurance.
  You start to set down camp for the night, having just one pair of hands makes it a bit more of a lengthy process, and Dainsleif can only sit and watch as you put it together. He’s usually quite distant, even in a relationship—but as you straighten from squatting to fit something down, you feel something press against your leg and see him rubbing his furry cheek against you, then walking around your legs, tail trailing behind.
  He’s usually quite wary and alert, even during the night when you try and convince him to sleep—and it’s no different now. He sits poised and ready… for what? He’s a cat. But you appreciate the effort. 
  Surprisingly, he’s very active at grooming himself, the two of you usually have to bathe often anyway as you frequent dusty caves and muddy backwaters, but every time you make a stop, he sits down and starts licking his fur—at first you wondered if he was frustrated by something or had hurt himself, but as you picked him up to examine for any injuries or strange patches, he just blinked at you, tongue still half-hanging out.
  Dainsleif is rather laid-back when it comes to your relationship, there are times where you want to stay in a larger city for a few days or weeks in between travels, to have a soft bed and four walls around you—which Dainsleif doesn’t mind, there are places he wants to look into where he’d prefer you are safe elsewhere. He knows where you will be and will stop by to ask if you’re ready to continue days or even sometimes a few weeks later, to which you—recharged and rejuvenated—jump at the chance to follow him out of the city.
  But now, as a cat, he doesn’t leave your side for a minute—not even when you need to use nature’s bathroom. You went into a small village in Sumeru when passing through and a vendor was particularly pressing about selling you some type of perfume that you had shown brief interest in—Dainsleif had enough of you being pestered and whacked his paw at the man’s leg, hissing. He would usually be more subtle about guiding you away, but he doesn’t have the presence he usually does as he is now, so he must utilise the aggressiveness given to him in feline form. You take the chance to scoop him up and hurry away before the vendor can get upset, petting between his ears and thanking him for the help—he rubs his cheek against yours. He’s surprisingly more affectionate like this as well.
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Diluc ;
Your nose itches… you try to hold back—achoo!!
  Diluc jumps, claws scuttling against the ground and he leaps from his resting spot and hops down to the floor. You sniffle and shake your head. “Sorry, it’s not your fault,” you stand from his chair and round the table to squat down next to him, reaching a hand out. “Did I startle you?”
  He makes a ‘hmph’ sound, fur red as freshly bloomed roses. Diluc bumps his snout into your palm and huffs into it, you turn your hand and pet along his back. “Aaah… you’re so cute~ so soft,” you near coo as you scratch behind his ears—
  Diluc shakes himself and ducks under your hand to walk past you—how dare you baby-talk him?! He’s not an actual cat! The scritches felt too nice, and his ears flicked when you cooed at him—it’s embarrassing…
  He sits down by the door, tail swaying lazily as a small meow leaves him. Let me out. 
  You pout, how can you not convey how cute he is? You want to rub his cheeks. But fine, you  walk over and open the door for him to slip out of. 
  Diluc likes the lounge around the fireplace in the estate, there’s not much work he can do  while you try to figure out how to turn him back—preferably without alerting his brother or any of the knights… or just anyone in general. Unfortunately, he can’t hide it from the staff of the Winery as he is a spitting image of himself in cat form, and you’ve caught more than three people trying to feed him expensive cheeses. 
  It’s only in the recent days that you’ve convinced him to settle down and use the time to rest and nap as much as he can, but Diluc was extremely restless at first, you had to trap him inside a room and trick him into lying down with you.
  One day, Jean came by looking for him, and you had to think fast to come up with an excuse while he had just leapt under the sofa to hide. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to need him urgently, so she just left a message behind and went back to her day.
  You fell asleep in Diluc’s study, trying to keep up with his paperwork—Adeline offered to help you, she’s very familiar with his work, and it’s not like it’s been a long time since he wasn’t there to do it… but you wanted to help, and as the sun sank below the horizon, you laid down on the sofa in his study next to a tall bookcase—only closing your eyes was enough to pull you into deep sleep.
  Diluc hops onto the sofa next to you, he carefully walks over your thighs and settles on the armrest where your head is. His fluffy tail sways and strokes your chin and nose—nearly waking you as you almost sneeze, you don’t have to work so hard for him, he knows you want to help. He wishes he could tell you, and he will, when he’s back to normal. For now, he rests alongside you, head leaning against the top of yours and tail tucked against your neck.
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Kaedehara Kazuha ;
Kazuha is a very chill cat, he doesn’t get into trouble, he doesn’t cough hairballs on the floor and he doesn’t knock things over.
  (Instead of coughing hairballs on the floor he swats them off-deck with his paws, Beidou caught him doing it once).
  There’s not much trouble to get into on the ocean, and he’s rather good at keeping out of trouble overall on land, sticking by his side is a sureway to a boring day of exploration or lounging around—which is your perfect type of day.
  You help him into your bag as the Crux ‘boards’ by Liyue Harbour (it stops a bit away and tucked by a cliffside to avoid attention) and you make sure he doesn’t accidentally fall into the ocean as a few crewmates row to land. You’re stopping for a few days, so you make sure to use the time to relax and take in landside air and wander around the expansive Harbour. 
  Kazuha likes to take life at a slower pace, and thus your walk to the Harbour took longer than you expected… as you thought Kazuha was doing his normal meditation on a warm, sun-kissed rock along the road…
  But he was asleep, sitting up and enjoying the sun. It took you thirty minutes to realise—a sitting cat with its eyes closed and a sleeping cat in a sitting position is the exact same.
  He very much likes to people-watch, but in this cat form, he seems even more engaged—he can hear sounds more clearly and he seems even more perceptive than usual. Watching a tea maker brew a cup on a teahouse table you had sat by to rest and ordered some snacks. He sniffs at the tea as it’s placed in front of you—he’s perched comfortably on your lap, you’re surprised the teahouse even allows him inside—and seems to appreciate the detail he gets from this new perspective, af if it smells different in this form.
  He tries to taste it and your food, but you have to block his snout with your hand, you’re not sure if the food you were having would give him a stomach ache or not. 
On a walk on the outskirts of the city, you look back and see Kazuha carrying a stick in his mouth…?
  He’s not a dog, so you’re not entirely sure why he’s doing it, maybe cats do that too? The dogs that hang around the bridge leading to the southeast outside of Liyue Harbour try to approach him with the stick, thinking he was playing, but he hops into a tree to keep it to himself. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening, but he seems to be having fun.
  Kazuha wanders off oftentimes, just in his normal, usual body… so you’re not sure why you’re surprised when you suddenly find him missing from your side—perhaps it’s because he’s a cat and you’re unsure if he can defend himself as well in that form, but you hurry to look for him.
  You practically run in circles until you find him pressing his paw to a brown, crusty leaf… again and again, as if listening to the crunch of it in a rhythm. You sigh and scoop him up into your arms. “Don’t wander off like this,” you scold and poke his nose. Kazuha sneezes from the poke, but blinks up at you and nods his little furry head.
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Kaeya ;
Unbothered, in his element. Kaeya sleeps in your windowsill and bathes in the sunlight all day while you scratch your head over how this could’ve happened. You try to leave for work and he practically screeches at the door, likely pleading you not to leave—he does that normally as well, except without the loud meowing. 
  Kaeya finds appreciation in the flexibility and grace that comes with this new body, he easily leaps up on shelves and dives under the sofa, he chases flakes of dust and seems to be having quite a good time—perhaps it’s because he has no responsibilities in this form, he can’t go to work like this and has no control over it. And the loss of control is strangely freeing. 
  You scoop him up into your arms and his tail swishes happily, he grabs his claws into your shirt and purrs as you rub his ears, happy and content with the additional affection. He loves all affection he gets from you no matter what form it takes, and being a cat has given him the opportunity to be pampered in ways he never could experience as a human. 
  He does need his free time as well and he uses it well while you’re out of the house—though you were very optimistic to think that closing the windows would keep him contained, Kaeya easily flips the handles and slips out of your home. He enjoys the attention he gets from any passersby, but is careful not to be too affectionate and get picked up by someone who thinks he’s a stray. 
  His usual guarded front lowers in this form, he feels like he could slip out of any situation—and he doesn’t have to be careful with his words or actions. No one expects a cat to have alternative intentions. 
  He jumps up in surprise as he hears footsteps rapidly approaching—he had fallen asleep on a ledge and the sun was already down. Kaeya blinks as you pick him up, breath heaving. “There you are, I’ve looked everywhere for you! I thought something happened when I couldn’t find you around the plaza,” you sigh a breath of relief and practically crush him to your chest. Kaeya wriggles a little but gives up and nuzzles into you, pushing his forehead into your cheek. 
  After a number of days, Kaeya gets bored, as fun as lounging around and being pampered it… he misses real food, and dragging you away from your work to have lunch—and holding you properly, he can only lay on top of you like this, which doesn’t exactly feel like holding.
  And Kaeya being restless… he gets whiny. 
  He would usually be more subtle, but now that he feels the rush of freedom his feline form gives him, he uses it to protest by loafing on your clothes after you fold them to put away, laying over your lap when you need to get up—even though he’s not really a cat… kind of, you still get the same feeling of not wanting to move him off no matter how much space he’s taking.
  But that’s okay, because he just has to slow blink at you and nuzzle into your hand and you forgive him, how could you not?
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Kamisato Ayato ;
Ayato is an unreasonably pretty cat. His fur is soft and silky, he has this… smug kitty-smile at all times, and it makes you want to pinch his ears. He sits on your lap and peeks onto the low table inside his study as you go through paperwork. Just because he’s become a cat doesn’t mean his workload just miraculously lessens. 
  Thankfully, after a few days of trying to juggle his work—how does he do it?!—even with him by your side, albeit in a form that can’t properly communicate… Ayaka decides to lend a hand, she takes it upon herself to attend meetings and represent the clan and Commission in Ayato’s stead. Thankfully no one has questioned where he is yet.
  Or why there is a suspiciously similar cat trotting around the estate in his place. 
  You fish into a bush in the courtyard gardens, hand feeling around—until you find fur and yoink it up. Ayato blinks at you, tail swishing as he has a piece of grilled fish in his mouth that he stole from the kitchens. “You know… you can have all the fish you want—you don’t have to steal it,” you say as you lift him into your arms.
  His ears flick as you talk, but he eats the fish happily regardless. You shake your head in mild exasperation. Looks like he’s using the opportunity to engage in… more mischief than usual. Perhaps a different kind. 
  Ayato likes to use his newfound stealth and agility to his advantage… to torment you.
  You put away some laundry and turned to a shelf to fetch something—only to come face to face with Ayato’s cat-face, making you jump as he meows happily—as if happy to see you! He knows he’s just trying to startle you!
  He winds around your feet when you walk around the estate and purrs happily when you squint at him.
  Ayato knows the limits, he stops before you can lock him inside a room for the remainder of the day. His fur is so soft as you pet him and a rumbling purr leaves him, he knows it’s silly—he’s not really a cat, at least, hopefully not for long. But you keep petting and stroking him while he does. 
  He takes good care of himself on normal days, and as a cat, it’s no different—he grooms himself meticulously, though finds it rather embarrassing if you’re looking, so he tries to do it out of sight… it's very instinctual, but he also likes to feel clean and groomed. 
  You once passed the great hall and saw Thoma wriggling a toy with a bundle of feathers on it while Ayato chased it… it was pretty cute to watch, but you hurried along before either of them could notice you. 
  He hogs the futon, you don’t want to push him to the side and get pushed to the edge of the mattress yourself. Ayato doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 
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Kaveh ;
Distressed, not having fun, he wants to go home.
  A series of meows in varying states of distress and confusion follow behind you as you walk, you stop and turn around, peering down at the strange cat that’s been following you around since you left the Akademiya. You were about to ask what he wants… but as you squint at the cat… doesn’t it look familiar?
  Kaveh doesn’t stop when you do, he raises on his hind legs by your feet and sinks his claws into your pants, a shrill, distressed meow leaves him.
  You reach down and pick him up, holding under his front legs as you inspect him… hm, golden fur with tints of a darker, sandy brown… those big red eyes.
  “... Kaveh?” you must be crazy, there’s no way your partner is a cat, and followed you around without you realising, but you know those eyes very well. It’s him.
  Alhaitham just stares at you like you grew three additional heads, he looks at Kaveh in your arms and then back at you. “... it looks like him, but that’s not proof enough—have you asked him to write his name?”
  You look at Kaveh and he tilts his small head to look up at you. Write his name…? He doesn’t exactly have thumbs… but Alhaitham has a good point. What if it’s just a very persistent cat? 
  Then again… where would Kaveh be? He’s usually home by this time.
  Alhaitham fetches a pen and some parchment and you put Kaveh down on the table. He tries to use his paws at first but just spills ink all over the place—but as he grabs the pen with his mouth and clumsily scribbles his signature, Alhaitham just hums while you scoop Kaveh up again, holding him up. “It is you! What happened to you, Kaveh?”
  Of course, he can’t give a proper answer, he wriggles his paws around and meows in a long dialogue—but it’s entirely incomprehensible. 
  While you and Alhaitham try to figure out how to get him back, Kaveh tries to adjust to his… predicament. He doesn’t do it with any grace, though… his leaps and jumps across furniture are miscalculated and he falls to the ground or hits his head more often than you can count.
  But your worried petting and rubbing the aching area makes him purr and nuzzle into your arms.
  He does hate the heightened senses, he jumps at the smallest noise and scuttles across the room if anything startles him—and he gets startled very easily like this.
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Neuvillette ;
You call his name, looking around his office… you scratch your head, he can’t have gone far, you just left to fetch some tea for a few minutes. It’s not like he can open the door or window and slip out—why would he anyway?
  You hear a very… pathetic meow, from next to you—but there’s nothing there, just a sofa. You hear it again—under the sofa…?
  Ducking down, you see that Neuvillette is stuck, he seems to have been trying to squeeze himself under the sofa, and rounding the furniture, you see his hind legs and tail flat on the floor… it’s a bit amusing. “There, I got you,” you say soothingly as you lift the sofa up a little so he can back out. Neuvillette stands up and shakes his body.
  You squat down and smile. “How’d you get stuck under there?” you hold out your hand and he presses his head into your palm, nuzzling against your skin for comfort as you turn your hand to scratch and pet him.
  He’s not very good at resisting the instincts and temptations that come with this form—you’re unsure why he seems to struggle so much, but you try to help him as much as you can, and not laugh.
  You saw him chase a shadow, there is an ornament on the raised blinds that hang above the large window in his office. It's attached to the strings that lower and raise them and it sways slightly—casting a shadow across the floor.
  Another time he was grooming his fur and struggling, he has a thick, long coat and had to lean far back to reach the end of his fur as his tongue dragged along the hairs… causing him to roll backwards off the arm of the couch and into the pile of pillows.
  Innocent, small things that make you smile, but you’re careful that he doesn’t see it.
  He loafs over a stack of court documents as you organise his desk—might as well use the opportunity to clean up while he won’t be making a mess. He doesn’t seem satisfied with his place on the desk and stands… and spots a box on the ground, it’s stacked halfway with old documents to be taken to storage… but it also looks like the perfect spot to rest. He hops down from the desk and circles a few times on the papers to get comfortable. He wriggles a little before sitting down.
  It takes him a minute to realise that he was kneading into the paper when he hears the sound of it tearing under his claws in an instinctual need to make the bottom of the box comfortable. 
  Safe to say, he was mortified to have destroyed the top four documents, but thankfully they weren’t shredded and you managed to salvage them with some memory of what had occurred as well as piecing them together.
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Tartaglia ;
You look towards the window above the kitchen counter, cold air brushes into the house as Childe enters through it—with a mouse in his mouth.
  You leap up and push the book in your hand against his face and push him straight back outside. “No! Absolutely not! Leave it outside, not in the house!!” You close the window behind him and sigh in relief, brushing stray snow into the sink. When you look up again, He’s sitting there, big eyes and ears flat against his head… but no mouse.
  Sighing, you open the window a smidge so that he can step inside, where he shakes himself and tosses flakes of melting snow all over. 
  Childe sits down, tail swaying—as if waiting for something.
  You set your haps on your hips. “What?”
  “Mrrow…” he wriggles his head, he wants a pat. 
  … fine, just because he took the mouse outside because you ‘asked’, you raise your hand to stroke his head and he tilts it to lick your palm—but you pull back. “No, you just had a wild animal in your mouth, wash your mouth!”
  What is this?? He feels like a criminal, all he did was bring you a prize… to be fair, he realised how silly it was to bring you a dead animal when you leapt up to push him back out, but it felt completely natural up until that point!
  He whines and meows for forgiveness for the rest of the night, and you do eventually ‘forgive’ him and let Chile lounge around on your lap while you pet him and continue reading.
  He picks fights with swaying curtains, chases your broom when you’re cleaning and even whacked your cup of coffee off the dinner table—spilling it everywhere. He’s a nightmare in this form, because no matter the scolding, he just stares at you with excited, large eyes and a swaying tail.
  Nothing you say gets through his head. In one ear and out the other. 
  He does not give up either, if he wants affection, he will get it one way or the other, even if he has to whine and meow endlessly, follow you around—fake a limp! You shake him a bit after he worried you and you almost went out in the middle of the evening through the snow to take him to a vet when he just wanted scritches. 
  In all fairness… this is just typical behaviour, but now he has the kitten eyes to break your self control and composure within seconds. 
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Thoma ;
He tries to do his job even in cat form, using his tail to sweep, he even takes his duster into his mouth and tries to sweep on surfaces he’d usually need ladders to reach, and now he can just leap to them.
  But he also has a problem…
  He has an instinctual need to create a mess, knock things over or sit on things—when he catches himself in an act of pushing Ayaka’s discarded tea off a table, he nearly leaps away to stop himself. 
  Thankfully, everyone around him doesn't mind—and it’s a bit relieving to see that Thoma retains a sense of himself. He finds time where he would usually go into town to instead nap—and the Kamisato estate has perfect napping spots. He lies sprawled across the engawa surrounding the eastern part of the estate near the back gardens, and lets the warm beams of the sun warm his belly���only to shoot up in surprise when he hears footsteps, embarrassed to be caught lounging around. 
  Ayato sometimes plucks him away to keep on his lap for hours while he sorts through paperwork, petting and scratching behind his ears while his other hand signs documents. Thoma gets a bit restless just loafing on his lord’s lap and meows in relief when you come along to fetch him. 
  Ayaka leapt at the opportunity to sew a few accessories for him, guised under the excuse of “practise for smaller bodies” and Thoma ends up with half a wardrobe by the end of the week. 
  But he prefers to be around you, you don’t trap him on your lap (even though Ayato gives very good scritches) or make him model for three hours (even though Ayaka gave him snacks). As you work around the estate, he gets tired—curse this cat body and it’s perpetual need for napping!—and you tuck him gently into your eri*. Thoma lays nestled against your chest warmly, his body light and still as you continue your work. 
  The gardens of the Kamisato estate is a disaster zone, and after the first few days, thoma knows to avoid it. 
  He had strolled past, early in his transformation—and been startled by his own reflection in the pond he passed by, the fish swimming away in a hurry as he ran across the gardens in surprise. A second time, he had spent twelve minutes chasing a butterfly while Ayato watched with a signature smile… he will likely not let him forget it. 
  Thankfully, he’s not needed much in the gardens, and he sits perched atop a high shelf in the kitchens, his tail sways as he leans forward… very much ready to leap and steal some food—before you pluck him up and raise an eyebrow.
  His ears flatten in realisation, but you rub his cheeks and tuck him back into your clothes—grabbing some leftover pears from the dessert the kitchens were making, letting him munch on it while you get back to work. 
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Venti  ;
You didn’t think Venti could become even more of an airhead on a typical day as he does when he becomes a cat. He gets distracted by the smallest things and wanders off—leading to a wild goose chase where you have to ask around for a small darkly coloured cat with blue highlights on its ears and tail—a very distinct cat!—and being pointed in every direction possible.
  Only to discover him napping in a crate full of apples in an alley you walked past at least six times just in the last fifteen minutes. 
  He is also very vocal, Venti says anything that comes to his mind… which is unfortunately nothing but meowing nonsense to your ears, but you nod along as if you understand, having a halfway conversation with the lively cat. 
  Somehow, he very much likes to play and nap like he’s being paid to do it at the same time. In one moment, he’s swatting at your clothes and trying to get to play with your fingers—which he accidentally bites and scratches in his excitement, quickly rectifying it with some licks and nuzzles—and the next, he’s passed out cold in a box or on a shelf for five hours.
  He doesn’t seem embarrassed by these new catlike instincts, such as the need to groom himself—he even starts grooming you halfway through his coat, you’re sure your skin is very much clean by the time he finally turns back to himself. 
  Unlike normal cats, who move and settle down elsewhere when the person under them gets up… Venti is not happy about being disturbed nor that you’re trying to get up, he whines and kneads on your clothes to try and get you to stay a little bit longer, giving you the best big kitten eyes he can muster.
  And damn him, it works. He knows what he’s doing. 
  You had been looking for him one morning, thinking he just wandered off again and you’d find him napping in some corner of the city… when Diluc approaches you with a sheepish looking Venti-cat, holding him by the scruff of his neck. “This yours?”
  Diluc doesn’t even seem surprised that the bard is a cat. At least he isn’t an allergy risk when he’s human-like and trying to get into his wares. 
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Wanderer ;
He is very aware of himself, he knows he looks stupid (cute) and that everything he does will be looked at through the lens of a typical cat and not someone stuck in its body.
  And thus, he does all he can to be as eerie and unnatural a cat as he can be.
  He doesn’t make a single sound, no meowing, no purring, nothing. He doesn’t walk like a cat—thankfully he doesn’t walk on two legs—nor does he exhibit any of their typical behaviours.
  At least, that was the plan. 
  Every single time Wanderer catches himself doing anything that could be considered “cat-like”, such as grooming himself, chasing a loose string, or gods forbid… kneading—he will immediately stop and compose himself again.
  As opposed to some others, he absolutely hates the loss of control that follows becoming a cat. 
  He can’t write properly, he can’t communicate—and if he tries, no one but you and perhaps Nahida takes him seriously—he’s always sleepy and aware at strange times… he hates it! 
  And once when he was just trying to have some grapes for snacks—you suddenly leapt towards him to stop him, taking the bowl off the table with a relieved huff when you noticed he hadn’t swallowed any of it… after you pried the grape out of his mouth. At his hissing, you explained that cats can’t have grapes. 
  He gave you the cold fur-shoulder for at least two days. 
  You brought him out one time to get some fresh air—since he’s fully aware of himself, he shouldn’t run off and get lost, or into a dangerous situation like an indoor cat might. But when you gave some other cats around the streets of Sumeru attention, he quickly meowed in protest and whacked the other cats away. 
  It’s a bit cute… he doesn’t normally act so forthcoming, and as he bumps his head into your knee afterwards, you rub his cheeks and pinch his ears despite further protest. How cute!
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Wriothesley ;
At first, you weren’t even sure if Wriothesley was just a “cat”. He’s huge*. 
  You put a bowl in front of him, filled with foods that are okay for cats to eat but also not… gross, as Wriothesley is very much aware in that cat-head of his. “C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with this, I even tasted it—it’s a bit bland ‘cause we can’t put any seasoning, but it’s food.”
  He leans down, and for a second you think that he’s going to eat it—but as his whiskers brush against the sides of the bowl, he lifts his head abruptly and swats at the bowl, clattering it to the ground—he didn’t mean to hit it at all, but also not this hard. 
  You scratch your head, you just can’t figure out why he won’t eat—you’ve tried everything!
  It took you several hours of back and forth questions and meowing to realise that it was the shape of the bowl that was the problem and not the food itself.
  On another day, you reach down to pet his soft, thick fur—only to get a static shock, it zaps your fingers and both of you jump back. You always have to be careful with petting him, as there’s always a risk of getting zapped at any time. Worst part is, it’s not even every time! It catches you off guard!
  He likes to climb and jump on the pipes that web around the fortress, getting into places he’s never even considered before—and sometimes you look around for him for hours before giving up… only to suddenly be leapt on from above by a nine kilogram heavy cat half your size, knocking you over.
  Siegwinne noticed that he had been brooding lately, he had been stuck as a cat for five days now and it was beginning to frustrate him. So she decided to soak a small blanket in tea mixed with catnip—after it was dry and she rubbed some more on it, she laid it out in his office…
  You watched him for a good long while as he rubbed against it, meowed and rolled on the blanket. It was unbearably adorable, but you eventually pulled him away after a while—worrying it might be too much.
  He’s so large that it’s almost like sleeping with a person, just a very furry one. He lies halfway over you and as you wake in the morning—he refuses to get up. You give in and relax in bed for a while… until he starts kneading your cheeks, leaving small scratches with his big paws and claws. You don’t stop him—it doesn’t hurt, he looks so focused, like he’s trying to squeeze something out of your cheeks. 
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Xiao ;
He meows and wriggles in your arms, but you try your best to hold him until you reach the top of the inn—he swats at you and you finally let him go when you enter his usual reserved room. Despite being paws up when you let go of him, Xiao lands perfectly and immediately hops up to the highest vantage point in the room he could reach. 
  You don’t get him down by yourself, he only comes down willingly after a few hours when he’s calmed down and adjusted a bit to this form. You’re not entirely sure what happened, you had just been exploring a cave that was strangely entwined with a temple of sorts, when a bright light appeared behind you, and Xiao—who had been accompanying you—was suddenly a cat. A very small cat. 
  He loafs on the windowsill in the night, his tail wrapped around his paws as he peers towards the sky—at the slightest noise, his ears flicker towards it and he squints at the roads below that pass and surround the large inn. 
  He is unbothered. Firm. Stoic.
  … after getting wet under a pouring rain that persisted all day, he pretends not to be bothered by his wet fur and the uncomfortable existence he leads under this blanket of wet fur…
  But he can only pretend for so long. You turn away and pretend to busy yourself to allow him some privacy to reluctantly lick along his fur and smooth it down, trying to clean or groom it in a way that makes it less sloppy. 
  He hates it, this weird satisfaction that comes with this very primal instinct, and yet, he does still feel the satisfaction.
  Xiao is difficult to read on an average day, he’s very used to controlling his emotions and maintaining a front that’s difficult to get past.
  But as a cat… he’s an open book, he approaches you with a curled tail, he slow blinks at you when you drag your fingers through his fur as he loafs on the windowsill. 
  But he does. Not. Meow. 
  Except for that time you hauled his ass back to the inn… and when Zhongli makes a sudden appearance, he hops from his perched position and snakes around the former Archon’s legs, purring and meowing as he’s being petted and spoken to. He doesn’t notice his own behaviour…
  Not until the following night after Zhongli leaves, and Xiao is mortified that he behaved like an affection-depraved cat in front of Morax.
  Thankfully you sliding a comb through his fur and untangling some knots from the day distracts and calms him down in the evening.
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Zhongli ;
At first, you weren’t even sure if Zhongli was actually aware he was a cat, he follows you around, sits on a bench and licks his paw to clean it while you shop for groceries… he chases anything shiny that you come across and swats at it with his paws, leaps at it and tries to capture it—usually rocks or mora people drop. Maybe he likes the mineral, maybe it’s the shine. You can’t really know.
  You try to give him some nice food, cut down nicely so he won’t accidentally choke on it… but he won’t eat it, not unless you plate it properly…? At least, when you rearranged it better and separated the meats from the greens, he seemed to like it more. Maybe he thought you were treating him a bit too much like a pet rather than a partner that’s unfortunately become a cat for a (hopefully) limited time.
  After a long day of… not doing much, Zhongli realised he had left scratches on the sides of some furniture and he tries to hide or cover them up for the time being, dragging a blanket over the arm of a divan in the living room… hopefully you won’t discover them and he can fix it after he’s back to normal before you notice.
  You do notice that he very much prefers specific textures, he doesn’t like walking on the hardwood floor of your home and instead prefers to lie down or sit on blankets or the silken sheets in your shared bedroom. 
  Despite the strange predicament, Zhongli is very calm, he’s both patient and has a good sense—if this was a dangerous curse or spell that was difficult to reverse, he would likely sense it. Instead, he considers using this time to show and receive affection in a way you haven’t been able to before. 
  He often sits by your legs or thighs, he winds around them and rubs his furry cheeks along your clothes and pretty much anywhere he can reach. Your legs when he’s winding around them, your hand when you reach out to pet him, your cheek when he stands on your chest when you’re trying to read in bed before sleeping. 
  He purrs and cuddles with you, laying in your arms or over your lap—he even hid in your bag once when you went out for the day, and you discovered it too late to take him back home (you did wonder why your bag felt heavier than usual) and thus, he has the pleasure of accompanying you to your work—something he doesn’t often get the excuse or time to do. 
  Thankfully, Hu Tao didn’t question it when you came to her and said that Zhongli couldn’t come to work for a few days (hopefully just a few days). If anything, she sighed in relief and said something about him finally using his paid time off and sick days. Then thanks you for taking him out of commission??? 
  You pour over some scrolls and papers to try and figure out how to turn Zhongli back, and he hops onto the desk in the study, nuzzling against your arm before sitting down, tail swaying as he joins you in searching for ways to bring him back to you in a more familiar form. Despite how cute he is like this. 
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* eri is the collar-flap on the front of a kimono/yukata that crosses over the chest, he's tucked into it and lying on his back. if you know about the nioh cat clock scene, yeah.
* wriothesley is supposed to be a maine coon type of cat, just huge and heavy. but not wild cat huge.
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stxrslut · 2 days ago
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DIDN'T GIVE UP 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
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pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader
summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for
content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, brief handjob
author's note; inspired by a few conversations had over on @starfxkrinc about post rehab rafe. I'm super happy with how this one turned out, I really love exploring these sides of rafe
you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.
even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months. 
you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.
“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.
you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.
you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything. 
rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.” 
you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.
“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.
though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic. 
that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.
you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?” 
rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.
“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.
you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration. 
you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic. 
“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.
“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.” 
you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.
“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.
you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.” 
he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”
you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–” 
rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves. 
“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard. 
you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick. 
he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself. 
he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.
you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.
he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too. 
poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms. 
he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time. 
of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it. 
rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment. 
after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.
once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.” 
rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.
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mirohlayo · 2 days ago
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F1 DRIVERS AND YOU (their crush)
KISSING THEIR CHEEKS
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( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )
warning : none just fluff
note : little nod to max's 4th championship win, congrats to him, sooo proud !!
─ OSCAR PIASTRI
I know for sure boy was blushing so so hard. But it's absolutely adorable and cute. Oscar is very patient with you, and even though he dreams of being able to touch you in a more than friendly way, of being able to at least have the right to a little kiss, he restrains himself and tries not to act under his impulses. . However, when you decided to quickly kiss him on the cheek, out of nowhere, he actually felt himself melting from the inside. His cheeks have never blushed so much, and his heart has never beaten so quickly.
─ LANDO NORRIS
Ugh, you guys can barely hold eye contact, but he's already so in love. So mad in love even. Despite the fact that you are still shy, especially him, that you struggle to make eye contact without blushing afterwards, Lando can't help but ask for more. Just a little extra. So, when he walked you to your doorstep, he immediately asked you if he could have even a mini kiss. Your lips naturally landed on his cheek, brushing against it, almost like a ghost kiss. And when you pulled back oh... He was already touching the place where your lips rested, cheeks as pink as yours.
─ CHARLES LECLERC
This was absolutely surprising to Charles. But he would love to be able to feel that feeling again. When your lips pressed naturally against his cheek, your hands framing his face perfectly. He didn't move for at least a good two minutes, trying to figure out what just happened. If it was real. He was so shocked that he didn't see you lean in again to place another sweet kiss. He blinked a few times, and you could only giggle silently. Oh, it was the best day of his without a doubt. And if he could live it again, he wouldn't hesitate for a single second before saying yes.
─ CARLOS SAINZ
He only had eyes for you. And he loved seeing you smile, and making you happy. So from time to time he spoils you, and although you don't like it when he buys so many things for you, you always end up thanking him warmly because after all, it's adorable. You always hugged him, hugging him a little tighter each time, but this time it was different. You wanted a change from hugs, so with a surge of courage and love you gently kissed his cheek to thank him. He was dizzy, almost on the verge of passing out. He couldn't hold back a shy smile, and above all he couldn't settle for a hug from now on.
─ LEWIS HAMILTON
He waited there patiently, sitting in a corner of the garage before getting in his car. You were a few feet away from him, watching the mechanics adjust the final modifications to the car. He couldn't help but admire you. And stare at your lips. God, he would give anything to be able to feel them against his skin. And as he was about to get in the car, he stopped when he felt your arm rest on his forearm. And without knowing how, your lips crashed onto his cheek in a quick kiss. His best smile appeared on his face, as he tried to hide his blush by putting on his helmet. Finally, his wish came true, right?
─ GEORGE RUSSEL
He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. He already found you so perfect, so beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It wasn't just a crush anymore, it was George, a simp for you. But already his heart was speeding up just by looking at you, he really thought it was going to stop beating when you gently kissed him on his cheeks. It was pure, sweet and... terribly affectionate. He tried to appear as normal as possible, but inside he was a mess. His whole body was telling him to kiss you and tell you everything he has in his heart right now. And he's sure that day will come soon, because there's no way another day will pass without a kiss from you.
─ MAX VERSTAPPEN
As the race draws to a close, Max is finally a 4th time F1 world champion. And getting out of his car, as he proudly waves his arm to greet the crowd, only one thing is on his mind. You, you and only you. So it was natural that he found you among the crowd, looking at you as if only you existed in the world. His hair was still damp, his face still covered in drops of sweat, but that absolutely didn't stop you from pressing your soft lips against his cheek, for a long time. Passionately. And oh, that sweet gesture was better than any championship. His eyes spoke for themselves.
─ DANIEL RICCIARDIO
He will never, ever stop teasing you about the kiss you gave him. Quite simply because he loves seeing you smile and laugh, but above all because he secretly wants you to repeat this gesture over and over again, for eternity. Honestly, you wouldn't even have to ask him for permission as he will already be ready to receive another kiss from you on the cheek. It was by far the most beautiful experience of his life, and oh, his heart always asks for more when he sees you. So, he hopes to feel your lips on his skin again, even if it costs him to tease you all day long.
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just-thoughts-no-vibes · 16 hours ago
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I knew we would eventually reach a point where masses of people would misinterpret Arcane, but I never imagined it would be this bad.
Yes, I absolutely agree that season 2 was rushed, especially Act 3, and it is undeniable that the series would have benefited from at least one more episode if not an entire act. However, the current discourse about the show is so superficial that it's impossible to have a conversation about anything deeper but a mere synopsis of the characters and story.
So many of you expected this series to hold your hand and dumb everything down so you can understand it. But when it wasn't the case, you all started rioting and calling the characters vague, the plot bad, and the ships underdeveloped.
The amount of people who value spoken text more than the actions of the characters is worrying. And more worrying than that is the amount of those who interpret the said actions so superficially. I can't believe it needs to be explained that it wasn't Vi's death that led to the "good" timeline, but the lack of hextech. The result would have been the same if either of them had died. It wasn't about Vi, but about the child that died because of dangerous technology and that therefore that technology must not be used. The mischaracterization of Vi in general is insane. Call me biased and unfair, but the moment I hear you don't like her I will assume you didn't understand the show.
Also, the whole discourse around Caitvi scene in episode 8 is giving brainsmooth. No, Vi didn't choose Cait over Jinx, quite the opposite. No, Cait didn't plan all of it to fuck Vi. No, Vi didn't do it because she felt forced or because she is a horny animal who doesn't care about her sister. No, them fucking in a cell is not about the class difference, but about the fact that Vi felt an insane rush of emotions after realizing that Cait would let go of her revenge and help Jinx escape, all for her. Yes, I do agree that it would be nice if we got a longer conversation between Vi and Caitlyn and it would feel great to hear Cait apologize, but I'll always value actions over words. Her talking to Jinx, recognizing that she is just as bad as her, and choosing to trust Vi that her sister can change, thus letting Jinx escape will always mean more than any verbal apology and I'll die on that hill.
Also, it was Jinx's decision to let go and walk away. It was not about Vi trying to get to Vander, but about Jinx being tired of everything. Even if that fight didn't happen, the result would be the same: Jinx would leave because she knows that Vi couldn't do that. She knew that the two of them couldn't have a normal life together and that Vi would never give up on her. Jinx didn't "die" because Vi pushed her or failed her, but because she loved her too much. Whether you believe that she is dead or that she escaped, it's her decision either way.
Again, I agree that too much happened too quickly, but stop confusing your stupidity and inability to read between the lines with the quality of the series.
Arcane is flawed but still brilliant.
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hoshifighting · 3 days ago
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the sex ''ick's'' seventeen would give
WARNINGS: it's just for fun, and it doesn't match what the members do out there—so if you don't like, dont read.
seungcheol: his damn ass clapping louder than anything else in the room. like, the rhythm is giving standing ovation, and he’s completely unaware. if you dare mention it, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear.
jeonghan: he’d spend the whole day teasing you, promising he’s gonna ruin you later, only to nut in two minutes flat or tap out ‘cause his arms are tired “ugh, it’s so hot in here,” or “my legs are cramping.”
joshua: crying after nutting. he’s suddenly sniffling, you even got startled on the first time, his body getting REALLY sensitve.
junhui: he’ll mirror your moans, badly. you moan? he mimics it, but it sounds like a parody. like, he thinks he’s harmonizing, but it’s straight-up cringe. you try to ignore it, but he just keeps going.
hoshi: fucking u fully naked, except for his damn stoompas (those ugly-ass luxury brand chunky shoes). “they give me grip,” he’d say, like he’s at a crossfit competition, not blowing your back out. the sight of those big-ass sneakers ruins the vibe every time. (illustrative photos)
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wonwoo: absolutely no facial expressions. man could be balls deep in you, and his face is blank, like he’s doing math in his head. but in fact, he's just daydreaming.
woozi: soundtrack enthusiast. he’d insist on playing a playlist he made just for you, but it’s all anime OSTs. like, nothing kills the vibe faster than hearing some intense battle music while he’s thrusting.
minghao: if you’re on top, he’d start giving unsolicited feedback. “tilt your hips a little more—yeah, like that. now, slower.” thinks he’s teaching a masterclass while you’re just trying to survive on his cock.
mingyu: checking himself out mid-thrust. fixing his hair in the mirror. if you call him out with a “are you fucking me or yourself?” he’d blush “n-no, I’m focusing on you!”
seokmin: laughs during the dirtiest parts, like a full belly laugh because he’s nervous or thinks something’s funny. he just goes, “HAHAHA—ah! sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” it’s cute tho...
seungkwan: every little thing is exaggerated—he’s gasping like he’s in a soap opera, grabbing his chest like he’s about to faint. you move slightly? “oh my god, I’m gonna DIE babe!”
vernon: won’t take off his adidas tracksuit. every damn time, it’s on—jacket unzipped, pants pushed down, and he’s acting like this is perfectly normal. while you're getting dizzy almost, from the adidas long lines, and from seeing this tracksuit for the zillionth time this month. [im feeling it too personally bc my dad uses tracksuit's often 😭]
chan: overexplaining everything he’s doing. like, “okay, so now I’m gonna flip you over, and then I’ll go deeper, and—”
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shysuccubusstuff · 1 day ago
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Yandere! Mr. Crawling
Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.
Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you
Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!
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SFW:
Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.
Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.
Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.
Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.
Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.
Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?
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NSFW:
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.
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cyber333angel · 2 days ago
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SEVIKA X CAMGIRL!READER !!
finally convincing your girlfriend to join you on your stream you realize later on how much of a mistake that was..
a/n — i didn’t like how this turned out but enjoy ☺️ it has usage of strap on, overstimulation, and kind of in public because your being recorded
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three times a week you stream videos for your viewers in the office of the apartment you and sevika share, wearing the most gorgeous and revealing lingerie as always. just a one hour show gaining you about 200 bucks to just do stuff you and your girlfriend do every night for some randos. when you started dating her you had only just started to test the waters of cam shows and hadn’t gone all in yet, so when you told her about your recent hobby she was surprisingly not against it at all. in fact it’s how the two of you started to explore your sexual relationship with each other, trying out stuff you never thought you would do, but being comfortable with anyway because it was just the two of you. eventually you grew into the routine of your streams and wanted sevika to join you, always whining and pouting about wanting her to play with you but she would always decline, saying it was a nuisance.
however when you asked her to at least watch you she said yes, the show lasting a whopping 20 minutes before she told you to turn it off just so she could have her way with you, messing up all your pretty clothes and leaving you with tears in your eyes. you told sevika how you really wanted her to join you, pleading and letting her do anything she wanted to just so that she would agree. and she actually gave in after a couple of weeks of begging as she usually does because she could never resist when it comes to you, talking over it with her and making sure she 100% was okay with it. the two of you decided to do it next week when she came home from work and you would have a new set of lingerie coming in from the mail, courtesy of sevika as per usual!
when the day came you were nervous for some reason when you were putting together your set up, this routine had became normal to you but now that your girlfriend was joining you - your nerves were on 10. and it wasn’t a bad nervous feeling, no you just know what things people suggest to you in your chatbox and you just know how it might make your girlfriend a bit dramatic and jealous. you hear the front door close and your stream is about to start in 15 minutes, giving you enough time to gather yourself. walking out of the office you greet your girlfriend with open arms to give her a hug, “hi baby.” sevika says, kissing your forehead as the two of you rock together side to side at the doorway. “missed you sevi” nodding into her chest you feel a wave of relief rushing through you when your in her arms and all your nerves come down as you take in her scent.
you guys get started in the room, the stream starting as soon as you hit the red button, you look to sevika to see her leaning back on the desk, watching you set up. “go on.” she mouths to you as she puts out the cigarette she had, taking a gulp you turn on your camera to face you, your viewers flooding in going from 10 to 100 in mere minutes.
you greet them as you always do, of course added with the introduction of your special guest. “on tonights show we do have a special guest so get ready..” turning around you motion for sevika to come closer, walking up to the camera with that sway in her hips as she arrives on the screen.
telling your audience all about your girlfriend and what to expect for the stream, “don’t forget to hit the like button and enjoy the show!” you say as you look back to sevika, seeing her sat in the chair of the vanity that your camera is placed on as she watches you, “c’mere and sit down.” she says and you immediately walk to her with a smile, climbing onto her lap. making yourself comfortable while you hold her face seeing how cute she looks looking up at you, examining your face as she always does until you lower your lips to hers, kissing her so deeply and passionately. your girlfriend raises her arms to your ass as she breaths into the kiss, its always crazy how just a quick make out session could make you soaked and needy for her. and in this moment is when sevika realizes why she declined so many times when you asked her to join the stream, it was just the thoughtless “no.” each time but now she knew why.
she didn’t want to share this side of you with anyone, she didn’t want everyone to see how dumb she would make you by only shoving her tongue down your throat. the pathetic pretty sight of you that only she could make you experience was only for her eyes, deciding to make this quick even if it would end with tears. sevika still had her hands gripping the globes of your ass tightly as the puddle in your panties kept getting damper, moans coming from you as you moved on to your girlfriends neck. sucking and making bite marks all over her while sevika looked at the chatbox, people commenting “that’s so hot..” and other lustful thoughts while they watched you did much more than tick sevika off, making her scrunch her face in annoyance. sevika switches back to you taking your jaw in her hands gently, “lets go to the bed yeah?” making you nod your head while you get up from her lap to prop the camera next to the bed. crawling onto the comforter you face sevika at the end of it, lifting your chin up for a kiss as she slides down her boxers to reveal her strap underneath. it was a black dildo that was about 7 inches long with some girth around it, it was always a struggle to take all of it but sevika makes sure all of it fits every time. “get it nice and wet for me like you always do baby” following you with her eyes as you lower your head down, taking the silicon in your hands as you put it to your mouth giving it kisses at the tip.
taking the whole thing into your mouth stretches your jaw open, sevika bucking her hips forward a bit to force it down your throat a bit more, it makes you gag. gripping at your girlfriends thighs as you suck her dick, tears already trickling from your eyes when the rubber reaches as far as it can in your mouth, taking a bit more than half of it. “there you go baby, just like that.. my pretty girl.” that last part is said while she holds your jaw up to face her, your mouth still filled with her dick inside as she slides it out. by this point you have already long forgotten about your stream, which had previously never ever happened to you before, you were always in control when it came to your streams but sevikas presence in itself is enough to cloud your judgement.
that’s how you know end up laying on your back as you grip and pull at the sheets your currently laying on, with sevikas dick pushing deeper and deeper into your cunt. moans overflowing from your mouth as your stomach tenses,your hips rocking back and forth with your girlfriends large hands holding them harshly. your in missionary position and your lingerie is long gone— facing her but avoiding her piercing eyes by squeezing them shut, a series of pleads coming from your mouth. “hngh vika s’too much!” her name falling out your mouth so easily brings a smile to sevikas face every time face. “such a fucking crybaby, relax..” you don’t know how she can tell you to relax when she’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that same spot repeatedly that she knows makes you go crazy. moving her hand from your hips sevika brings her fingers to your neglected clit, circling the bud crudely when your hands fly to your mouth.
it’s way too much for you and sevika knows that but it’s what makes it all the more fun for her to watch, seeing you struggle and cry because of her hands on you like this. “don’t cover your mouth, let em hear you c’mon” she says pulling your hands from your mouth, tears welling from your eyes as she holds your hands to her stomach with one hand. “know how much i like to hear that pretty voice..” still rubbing at your bud you feel yourself cumming, your face scrunching up and your chest heaving up and down. “m’cumming sev please..” pleading for her to help you get there, sevika rocks into you deeper as your hips flow together. your so soaked that your cunt can be heard loud and clear on the camera, a harsh plap-plap-plap echoing in the room even though the camera is more than a few feet away from the bed, you can’t even imagine what the people in the chat are saying and you honestly couldn’t care at the moment.
you are too focused on how good sevikas making you feel and it almost makes you forget how to breathe but sevika can just tell how close you were. “yeah you gonna cum for us sweet girl? you love it when im deep inside you like this huh..” she says looking at the camera, turning back to see you nodding your head as your eyes go half lidded, feeling the coil in your stomach snapping with the help of sevikas words. legs quivering on her shoulders you coat the black silicon in your slick, a white ring covering the base. you twitch as your back arches off the bed, sevika watching you with praiseful eyes, if she wasn’t so focused on getting her baby to cum she probably would have came herself.
but she’s “kind” enough to let you catch your breath for a couple of seconds before sliding her dick out of your messy pussy, a uttering cry pulled from your throat as you instinctively close your legs from the loss. she pulls your legs to the edge of the bed as she kneels down on the floor, “open your legs.” is said with a impatient tone, waiting for you to defer to what she told you. “mm sevi I can’t! already came just now, I need a break..” instantly feeling your cheeks get hotter as you watch sevikas face, a stare you don’t get too often but when you do, you know that your doing something your not supposed to be doing. “you know im not gonna repeat myself baby..” a quiet whimper coming from you as you do as your told, shyly opening your legs for your girlfriend. she holds your thighs down to your stomach, they already ache and she hadn’t even begun to torture you yet.
lowering her head down, sevika laps at your soaked cunt, slurping and licking up stripes to your clit. you can’t even attempt to keep your moans to yourself, gripping at the sheets below you as you cry’s fill the room, your babbling to her about how it’s too much while your legs quiver and hesitate to close on sevikas head. “so fucking wet..this is all for me huh baby?” she says as she thrust her fingers into your hole, already soaked from the strap that was deep inside you just moments ago. leaving you panting as she holds your thighs down to the bed, licking up all your slick as if she hadn’t eaten for days, the sight alone was more than enough to make you overwhelmed as you feel yourself cumming again. “vika, vika sevika- please m’cumming again!” you hiccup, gripping at the dark brunettes hair, uncontrollably grinding your messy cunt against sevikas face trying to chase that sweet relief. she rolls her tongue against your clit while leaving trails of praise every time she comes up to kiss at your thigh or look at you, with her focus fixated completely on you as your legs shake around her head, squeezing your teary eyes shut with a cry. “taste so sweet..” is whispered as sevika gets up from in between your legs to give you a kiss on your forehead, “did so good for me baby.” you hear from her, walking over to your camera set up. in the midst of all this you completely forgot you were even filming, your head way up in the clouds of pleasure and you were completely embarrassed. you watch as she grumbles to the camera and signs off of it, walking back to you with a smile. sitting on the edge of the bed with her hand cupping your face while her thumb rubs across the soft flesh of your cheek, “do you usually make 1k everytime you stream? I didn’t know I was missing out on miss celebrity over here.” she says with a chuckle and your just laying there with shocked eyes, you never made that amount of money before for a show, in fact you just barely started to make 200. “and I love you baby but im never doing this again.” your girlfriend says with her stern tone as usual ending with a kiss on your forehead, nodding to her, you knew you were definitely gonna make her do this again.
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monstersflashlight · 2 days ago
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Insect anon again. I brought it up because I have been falling in love with tarantula themed driders over normal spider ones. Something I like that would be different is when a tarantula is looking for a mate they'll drum on webbing and enclosures, I think it's cute and I can't stop thinking of a drider who has a crush on reader just drumming their hands against any flat surface when they see their little human. Their webbing isn't strong like normal spiders/driders but is a lot softer (used to make burrows more than catching things)
A/N: Hi darling! I’ve been thinking about this ask/request for a long time (sorry it took so long) and I think it requires a bit of sweetness. Hope you enjoy this short thing!
Tarantula-drider (spider monster) x fem!reader
Drider boyfriend who happens to like your face more than he likes anything else in the universe. Especially when you are writhing in pleasure against his webs.
You met him by accident, tripping over his web when you were trying to get to the supermarket faster. He was just creating the most beautiful and intricate webbing. His face was weird and angular, but also kind of beautiful, you were mesmerized in a second. He stopped dead in his tracks and you thought he was going to get mad at you because you messed the project, but instead he started drumming his hands against the wall next to him, making you smile as you looked at him.
The little stunt of drumming against surfaces didn’t stop there, it was like a stim he did every time you were near. He explained it had to do with his happiness, and how he knew right away you were his mate. And you found it incredibly adorable.
And then, when you less expected it, he turned incredibly kinky. You thought the saying about all driders being into shibari and bondage was a joke, but the first time you two had alone time, he spent hours covering you in his soft webs, until you were nothing but his prey, positioned perfectly for him to do whatever he wanted with you. He ate you out for hours. Hours. Until you were a mess of fluids and screams, until he was satisfied with the amount of times he made you come (too much to count).
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covenofagatha · 2 days ago
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Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 2)
Word count: 3500+
Warnings: making out, slight mentions of masturbation, sex toys
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You’re on your new laptop the next day when Agatha walks into the bakery. Your face lights up and she smiles at you the second she’s through the door. Like every time you see her, she manages to take your breath away. 
“Hey!” You exclaim, motioning your hands around the laptop. “Thank you so much again. You did not have to do this.” 
“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, hon,” she says. Agatha’s now stopped in front of the counter, looking at you expectantly. 
“Do you want the usual?” 
She smirks playfully. “Do you remember everyone’s order?” 
“Only the ones that tip about 500% and buy me laptops,” you joke, but there’s some truth to it. You’ve had customers that have come in every day for a week and you don’t even realize it’s the same person. She seems satisfied with your quip and nods. 
“I’d love the ‘usual,’ thank you.” 
This time, though, when she holds out the typical $50, you pull out the change from the register and insist she take it. She raises an eyebrow. 
“Please, Agatha, you just bought me a computer,” you say, the beg coming out a little whiny. She teasingly rolls her eyes and takes the money from you. “Thank you. Your coffee will be right up.” 
“Actually, can you make it two?” 
Your heart skips a beat. Who is joining her? A friend? Her partner? 
And then you inwardly scold yourself for caring. 
“Oh, yeah, sure. Another espresso?” 
She shrugs slyly and skates a finger over the countertop. “I don’t know. What kind of coffee do you want?” 
You stare at her blankly, trying to make sense of her question. She must see your puzzled expression because she tosses her head back with a laugh. 
“I’m asking you to have coffee with me, doll,” she explains and the lightbulb clicks in your mind. 
“Oh–oh my god! I’m sorry.” Of course you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of the most beautiful woman on the planet. 
“You don’t have to.” This is the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of doubt on her face. 
“No, no, I want to. Go sit down and I’ll bring the coffee over when I’m ready.” 
She sits down at the normal booth and you busy yourself making an espresso and a pumpkin spice latte. This time, you allow yourself to glance at Agatha and you feel something in your stomach when you notice that she’s already looking at you, a fond smile on her lips. There’s a tug in your gut and you smile back. You’re not sure why the older woman is drawn to you this much, but you are not complaining. 
There’s something about her too. Something that pulls you in and doesn’t want to let you go. 
You successfully make the coffee this time without any broken laptops and you bring them over to the table, sitting across from her before she has to ask. She looks pleased and blows on her coffee before taking a sip. 
“What’s your drink of choice?” She asks, nodding at your cup. 
“Oh, just a pumpkin spice latte,” you say dismissively. “I’m a big pumpkin fan.” She nods like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. “And, thank you again. For the laptop. You really didn’t have to do that. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You don’t mean for it to sound as dirty as it does and she smirks like she hears it too. 
“There is one thing you can do.” You urge her earnestly with your eyes. “Go ice skating with me tonight?” It’s getting colder in Westview and the winter festivities are being broken out, including the Winter Wonderland in the square. Complete with an ice skating rink, hot chocolate stands, a snow pit, a hill for the kids to sled down, and even more, it was a town favorite. 
You frown but your heart skips a beat at the thought of her wanting to hang with you. As a date? “How is that repaying you?” 
She flicks her hand. “The money isn’t a big deal. I just want to get to know you better. Unless you’re busy.” 
“No, I have literally nothing to do later,” you say, shaking your head. She looks relieved. “Can I at least pay for the tickets?” 
“Honey,” she scoffs playfully. “I asked, so I’m paying. If you want to pay, you’ll just have to ask me to do something another time.”
“This sounds an awful lot like a date,” you say before you can stop yourself. The corners of her mouth quirk up and she raises an eyebrow. 
“Do you want it to be?” 
“Yeah,” you answer almost immediately, your voice hoarse at the thought. A date. With a rich, hot, older woman. She smiles genuinely. “What time? Oh, I hope all my winter clothes aren’t at home.” You haven’t been back in awhile to your parents’ house and you only brought the necessities to make it until you go back. You’re not sure how many cute options you’ll have. 
“I’ll pick you up around five-thirty? And do you have warm clothes?” She gives you a once-over. You’re in jeans and your uniform top. In the back, you have the heavy coat you wear when you have to go outside, and back at your dorm, you have sweatpants. Not exactly up to par with this gorgeous woman. 
You smile and nod and try to not appear too nervous. What to wear is always a point of stress for you. She must sense this because she reaches over to pat your hand reassuringly and then pulls out her wallet from her pocket. 
Before you can protest, she slaps a credit card down on the table. Your jaw drops and you look back and forth between it and Agatha. 
“Go to the mall and get whatever you want,” she tells you, and there is not even a trace of a joke in her tone. 
“How do you know I won’t just buy a car or something crazy?”
She laughs. “I trust you. And I don’t think you would. You seem like a good girl.” She puts a lot of emphasis on those words and it makes you feel hot. You’re sure your cheeks have turned red. “Text me your address before tonight, yeah?” 
You nod because you don’t trust yourself to talk at this point. What kind of woman just casually hands over her credit card to someone she barely knows?
“Um, thank you,” is all you can muster the strength to say. She gives you one last smile before getting up from the table. 
“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” 
The moment you’re done with your shift, you head to the mall. You’re not exactly sure what will suffice for the date, but you hope you’ll know it when you see it. 
You eventually find some black pants that make your ass look great and a cute purple sweater with a blue vest. It’s a little pricey though. You know Agatha said to get whatever you wanted, but you still feel a little guilty, especially after she’s thrown so much other money at you. 
So you text her. Hey Agatha! At the mall right now. Just want to check if there was a limit to how much I could spend? I found some stuff but it’s almost $200. If that’s too much, no worries at all! You send her your address as well before you can forget. 
She immediately replies. Get the stuff and anything else you want. I can’t wait to see what you’ve picked out ;) see you later. 
The winky face causes heat to pump through your veins and you bite your lip. You clear your throat and head to the check-out, heart beating fast when you press Agatha’s credit card to the reader. It goes through and you breathe a sigh of relief. 
You still can’t believe she just handed it over so willingly. 
Is she your sugar mommy now?
The question weighs on your mind until she texts you that she’s outside your building later that afternoon. You give yourself a once-over and run downstairs to her car. The new clothes are comfy and warm and she looks at you approvingly when you slide into the passenger seat. 
“Good choice,” she says. 
“Thank you again,” you reply, a little breathless from the cold and your speed. You take out her card from your wallet and hand it to her. “I can’t believe you just gave your card to some random stranger like that.” 
She laughs along with you. “I know you wouldn’t do anything. You seem too desperate to please.” Your face heats and you’re not really sure what to say. She isn’t wrong. There’s something about Agatha that makes you want to do whatever she says. “How was the rest of work?”
“Oh, good.” You wave a hand dismissively. “It was a pretty slow day today. Did you have work?” 
She launches into telling you about her newest court case and you find yourself absolutely fascinated to the point of not even realizing that you’ve arrived. Everything Agatha says has you absolutely enthralled and by the faint smirk on her face, she knows it too. 
She leads you over to the ticket stand, her hand on your lower back, and confidently buys two. 
“Thank you,” you say again, a little flustered by how she hasn’t let you pay for anything. You’ll be damned if you leave without buying her a drink or something. 
“Of course, doll. Do you want to skate first?” You nod eagerly, causing her to chuckle, and you both go to pick out skates. She has to help you lace them up after you fumble with them for a while since your hands have become so cold. 
“Full disclosure, I’m not very good at skating,” you warn her when she’s holding onto your arm at the gate. 
“I can help you, sweetheart,” she says and your heart feels so full. 
She gets onto the ice first and lets go of the railing so she can grab your hands and assist you in stepping onto the rink. Your eyes widen when you almost fall after moving your foot forward and it shoots back, but Agatha catches you in her strong arms. 
“Oh my god,” you exclaim as she stands you back up, never letting go of her tight grip on you. 
“It takes a bit to figure out. How many times have you ice skated?” 
“None,” you say, tongue poking through your lips as you look down at your feet and focus on sliding them forward. She glides backwards with you effortlessly. When you finally look up at her, she’s staring at you with something written on her face you can’t quite read. “What?” 
“You could’ve told me that you hadn’t, I would’ve taken you to dinner or something else,” she says. 
“No, no, it’s totally fine. I would’ve done whatever you wanted to do,” you reply half-mindedly. You’re more focused on skating around the corner. Once you do so successfully, her hands move from your wrists to only one hand holding your hip. 
But her touch makes you jump, fire igniting in your stomach, and you slip and fall on the ice. 
You groan in pain and Agatha stifles a laugh before squatting down to check on you. The cold has seeped into your wet pants and the humiliation burns your cheeks. 
“You okay, doll?” 
You nod your head defeatedly. “Yeah, just a little wet.” The moment you say it, you can see her eyes darken just the slightest. Your breath catches when you realize the innuendo and there’s a tense silence with the two of you just staring at each other while others skate around you. 
“Well, let’s get you up. Want to keep trying?” Agatha asks finally. She gets back on her feet as gracefully as ever. 
“As long as you don’t let me fall again,” you joke and take her outstretched hands.
“I didn’t let you fall, you did that all on your own,” she says playfully. 
She carefully lifts you up and you grab onto her biceps when you’re fully standing so you don’t crash back down. Her hands grab your waist again to hold you steady and when you look at her face, she’s staring at your lips. 
“Agatha,” you say, but you’re not sure what else to add because now you’re staring at her lips too. She leans in an imperceptible amount and your mouth parts involuntarily, ready for a kiss. 
“Look out!” Someone shouts and the next thing you know, a three foot tall blur runs straight into you, knocking you, Agatha, and the random person down. 
“Sorry!” The kid exclaims and jumps up to skate away, leaving you and Agatha wincing on the ice. 
“Why don’t we go find something else to do?” She asks and you’ve never been more happy to agree. 
Agatha helps you up once again and this time, interlocks her fingers with yours and slowly skates with you to the exit. 
Once you’ve gotten your shoes back on, Agatha buys the two of you cups of hot chocolate and a pretzel to split and leads you over to a bench so you can sit. 
“Thank you for this,” you say, shoving a piece of the pretzel into your mouth. 
“My pleasure, sweetheart.” 
The pet name does things to you that you can’t say and you find yourself wishing that the almost-kiss on the ice actually happened. You feel so connected and attracted to Agatha, even though you’re not sure why. 
“Why do you keep tipping me so much and buying me all these nice things?” You’re finally brave enough to voice the question that’s been on your mind since the first day she came into the bakery. 
She smiles and reaches over to squeeze your hand. “You deserve it. And I like spoiling you. You get this cute little look in your eye.” You blush instantly and she laughs. “Like that.” 
“Well, can I take you out sometime soon? Maybe for dinner or a movie or something?” 
“I’d like that. I’m free Tuesday or Thursday night this week.” 
“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” you say, happy that she’s finally going to let you treat her to something. “Unless I see you at the bakery first. It seems to have become an integral part of your morning.” You’re teasing but part of you wants her to elaborate on what she’s doing. 
“What can I say? The cinnamon crumb cake and the espresso are to die for,” she says with a wink. You laugh despite yourself. 
Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sip on your drinks and eat the pretzel. 
“Is there anything else you want to do?” She asks. 
“Can we go on the ferris wheel?” 
“Of course, dear.” She stands up and offers you her hand and you obviously take it. 
The line for the ride isn’t long at all so you basically walk right into a passenger car. Agatha sits next to you instead of across from you so she can wrap an arm around your shoulders. The wheel starts turning and something on the ceiling catches your eye. 
“Is that mistletoe?” You ask, pointing up at it and then looking at Agatha, who is also peering up at it, corners of her mouth quirking up. 
“Looks like it,” she answers thoughtfully and then glances at you playfully. “Shall we?” 
You don’t even answer, just clasp her cheek with your hand and pull her in. 
It’s a slow kiss at first, just a press of your mouth against hers, but then she opens her lips and slides her tongue into your mouth. You moan into her mouth and try to pull her even closer to you so you can feel more of her. She sucks on your tongue and your teeth make a clicking noise when they clash against each other. 
When you have to pull back for air, she kisses down your jaw and then gently bites on your neck. You gasp and your hips jump against nothing. 
“Agatha,” you breathe and you can feel her smirking as she nibbles on your earlobe. A fire stokes to life in your stomach and your body feels like a lifewire. One of her hands dips under your vest so she can cup your breast through your sweater. You whimper and she chuckles lowly. “Please.” 
“Is this okay?” She asks and you nod so hard your head hurts. She smirks and her hand slides down and under your sweater. 
The coldness of her fingers against your warm stomach makes you gasp but you like it and you pull her back in for a kiss. Her hand keeps moving up under your shirt and she’s about to reach your bra— 
—and the Ferris wheel stops. You let out a sigh of disappointment and Agatha laughs. 
The door to your car opens and the two of you step out. You wonder if your face is as red as it seems and you hope that no one accidentally saw you two making out. 
“So what now?” She asks once you’re back in the middle of the fair. But there’s only one thing on your mind right now. 
You don’t care that you’re surrounded by people right now; you stand up on your tiptoes and give her a searing kiss which she returns immediately. Your hands wrap around her neck and hers find their place on your waist. You end the kiss by tugging on her bottom lip and when you pull back, her blue eyes are dark and hooded. 
“Can we do more of that?” You breathe and she chuckles. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly in your life and you think if you don’t have her hands on you in the next ten minutes you might die. 
“Anything you want,” she whispers and presses one last chaste kiss to your lips. “Does this mean you want to leave?” 
“Please,” you beg and she smirks at how visibly desperate you are. You’ve become so wet and needy since she put her hand on your waist on the ice. You practically drag her back to the car and when she pulls back in front of your dorm, you look at her with begging eyes. “Come in?” 
The moment you say it, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. Bringing a hot, rich, older woman up to your living space that’s probably the size of her closet so she can fuck you in your twin sized bed? Plus it was your first date and you’ve known her for less than a week.
She’s clearly thinking the same thing because she smiles softly and says, “Maybe on Tuesday, doll.”
And yet, you whine. “Why can’t we just go back to your place right now? Please, I’m so-” You cut yourself off before you can tell her just how much you really need her. 
Her smile turns into a knowing smirk. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take care of that yourself then?” You gape and a flush climbs up your neck and to your face, but she leans in and keeps going. “Use your hand, or a toy, to think about me. Just to tide you over for a bit.” 
“I don’t have a toy,” is all you can think to say with your brain short-circuiting. That shouldn’t have been the part to focus on, but Agatha pulls back with wide eyes. 
“You don’t?” 
And then the image of Agatha using a toy on herself inserts itself in your brain and you have to cross a leg over the other to get some sense of relief. “No,” you squeak out. 
The glint in her eyes is positively evil. “Have a good night, doll.” She gives you one last kiss and then unlocks the car door. You give her a playful glare and then go upstairs. 
After you’ve showered and put on pajamas, you slide your hand down your sweatpants and touch yourself. 
It takes all of three minutes before you cum all over your hand, just replaying the kiss with Agatha in your mind. 
You fall asleep quickly after that and in the morning, you’re surprised to see a notification saying that you have a package in the delivery room. You throw on a sweatshirt and head down and it’s a medium sized brown box with your name and an A. Harkness as the mailer. 
Frowning, you take it back to your room and cut it open. Moving the flaps aside, you peer in the box and gasp. 
There’s at least four sex toys. A vibrator, a dildo, a different type of toy, and then a small box. You pick up the box and immediately drop it. 
It’s a remote controlled, long-distance vibrator. 
Your breathing has quickened and you feel your underwear growing wet yet again because of Agatha. 
And then you see a piece of paper. Hands shaking, you pull it out and open it. 
Hope you enjoy ;) Maybe you can wear the vibrator on Tuesday. See you soon. 
388 notes · View notes
paxtito · 2 days ago
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pretty girl
pairings: wednesday x fem!reader
word count: 3685
warnings: smut 18+. just lesbian sex innit (w receiving)— (all characters are 18+)
summary: wednesday put together a little surprise date night, but, enid being enid, couldn’t keep it a secret
a/n: based on this request: ‘I love your writing and was wondering if you could make another smut fic with Wednesday? Maybe something sorta soft, honestly anything would do. Thanks!’ hope this is what you were looking for and thank you!! spent the day resting which gave me plenty of time to do this because my lil’ anger issues of a dog bit my cheek after wanting my birthday cake 😒
MASTERLIST
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The morning air is crisp as you walk across campus with Enid, her usual vibrant energy making up for your grogginess. You clutch your coffee tightly, half-listening as she chatters about the latest gossip in the werewolf pack.
“And then Ajax tried to—are you even listening to me?” she asks, bumping her shoulder into yours playfully.
“Barely,” you admit with a small smile, taking another sip of your coffee. “It’s too early for full Enid mode.”
“Rude,” she pouts dramatically before grinning. “But fine, I’ll get to the point. I’m sleeping over at Yoko’s tonight!”
“Wait, what?” you ask, blinking at her. “Why?”
Enid’s steps falter, and she looks away for a moment, biting her lip. “Oh, uh, no reason!”
You narrow your eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Enid…”
“It’s nothing!” she insists, waving her hands defensively. “Totally normal, just, uh, bestie stuff. You know, girl talk, vampire-werewolf bonding, that kind of thing.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “Fine! But you can’t tell Wednesday I told you, okay? She’d literally kill me. Like, for real this time.”
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Wednesday. “What does she have to do with this?”
Enid hesitates, looking torn. “Ugh, okay, fine,” she blurts out, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “She’s planning something for you tonight. Like, a date night or something. She told me to clear out so you two could have the dorm to yourselves.”
A warm, unexpected blush creeps up your neck. “Wait… Wednesday planned something? For me?”
Enid nods, her grin widening. “Yup! And let me tell you, she’s been stressing about it all week. She even glared at me less than usual yesterday, so you know it’s serious.”
You can’t help but smile, your heart fluttering at the thought of Wednesday going out of her way to plan something for you. “That’s… actually really sweet.”
“Right? But don’t tell her I told you, okay?” Enid warns, gripping your arm. “She swore me to secrecy and gave me this whole creepy ‘I’ll bury you alive’ speech. Classic Wednesday.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Good. Because I value my life,” Enid says with mock seriousness before breaking into a smile. “But seriously, I’m happy for you guys. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”
Your smile grows as you think about Wednesday, her deadpan expression softening ever so slightly when she’s around you, the way her hand lingers in yours when no one’s looking. “Yeah,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to Enid. “I know.”
As the two of you reach the doors to your next class, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Whatever Wednesday has planned, you know it’ll be something only she could come up with—quiet, dark, and maybe a little macabre. And you can’t wait to see what she’s put together.
The afternoon sun filters through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow across your desk. Your fingers absentmindedly tap against the surface as you try to focus on the teacher's droning voice, but your thoughts keep drifting to Wednesday and the surprise she has planned for you.
Despite your best efforts to keep a straight face, a small, giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You sneak a glance at Wednesday from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge her reaction.
To your surprise, she's already staring at you, her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Your gaze meets hers, and you quickly look away, feeling your cheeks heat up under her intense scrutiny.
"You," she says flatly, her voice cutting through the monotony of the lecture. "Are you feeling alright? You seem... distracted."
You swallow hard, your mind racing for an excuse. "I'm fine," you manage, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. "Just thinking about the assignment."
Wednesday raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Her gaze bores into you, as if she's trying to read your thoughts.
You squirm in your seat, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope. You can practically hear Enid's voice in your head, warning you not to blow her cover.
But it's too late. Wednesday's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of panic crossing her face before she schools her features back into a neutral expression.
"Ah," she says slowly, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
You bite your lip, wondering if you should press further. But before you can open your mouth, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.
Wednesday stands abruptly, gathering her books without another word. She brushes past you, her shoulder bumping against yours in a way that feels almost like a dismissal.
You watch her go, your heart sinking. You've blown it, haven't you? Ruined whatever surprise she had planned.
You scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over your chair in your haste. Your backpack slips off the desk, scattering your belongings across the floor.
"Wednesday, wait!" you call out, your voice echoing in the now-empty classroom.
You chase after her, weaving through the throng of students in the hallway. Your heart pounds in your chest as you catch up to her, reaching out to grasp her arm.
Wednesday whirls around, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. "What?" she snaps, her voice sharp.
You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I... I'm sorry," you manage, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I didn't mean to ruin your surprise. I just... I couldn't help myself."
For a moment, Wednesday just stares at you, her expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, her shoulders slump slightly, and she lets out a sigh.
"You're impossible," she mutters, but there's no real heat behind her words.
You blink, taken aback by her sudden shift in demeanor. "I... I know," you say softly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "But I meant what I said. I'm sorry."
Wednesday is silent for a moment, and then she nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fine," she says, her tone grudging. "But don't think this means you're off the hook. You owe me one."
You grin, relief washing over you. "I can live with that," you say, your voice light and teasing. "So... are you going to tell me what you have planned, or do I have to guess?"
Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Guess," she says simply, before turning and walking away, leaving you to follow in her wake.
You stand outside Wednesday's dorm room, your hand hovering over the doorknob. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.
Despite your earlier promise to keep quiet, you can't shake the nagging feeling that you've ruined whatever surprise she had planned. You glance down at your uniform, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance.
"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, giving your skirt a quick smoothing. "She's not going to bite."
With a final nod of determination, you raise your hand and knock on the door. The sound echoes through the empty hallway, making you wince.
Silence greets you for a moment, and you wonder if Wednesday is ignoring you. But then, the door swings open, revealing Wednesday standing in the doorway.
She's changed out of her school uniform, now wearing a simple black dress that falls to her knees. Her hair is loose, tumbling down her back in dark waves.
For a moment, you're struck dumb, your brain short-circuiting at the sight of her. She looks... pretty. Soft. Nothing like her usual sharp edges and icy demeanor.
Wednesday arches an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a smirk. "Cat got your tongue?" she asks, her voice dry.
You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. "No," you manage, clearing your throat. "I just... I didn't expect you to look so..."
You trail off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence without sounding like a complete fool. Wednesday's smirk widens, and she steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.
"Come in," she says simply, before closing the door behind you with a soft click.
You step into Wednesday's dorm room, your eyes widening as you take in the scene before you. The furniture has been pushed to the sides, creating a large open space in the center of the room. Soft, ambient lighting casts a warm glow over everything, making the room feel intimate and cozy.
In the middle of it all stands Wednesday, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. She's holding out her hand to you, a silent invitation.
"What's all this?" you ask, your voice coming out a little breathless.
Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "I'm going to teach you how to dance," she says simply, her tone matter-of-fact.
You blink, taken aback by her words. "Dance?" you repeat, feeling a little foolish. "Like... ballroom dancing?"
Wednesday nods, her dark eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Yes," she confirms, her voice dry. "Like my parents do. It's a family tradition."
You feel your heart skip a beat at the thought of Wednesday's parents, of the life she leads outside of Nevermore. It's a side of her you've never seen before, and the idea of being a part of it, even in a small way, makes your stomach flutter.
"I... I'd like that," you manage, stepping forward to take her hand.
Wednesday's fingers are cool against yours, her grip firm and steady. She pulls you closer, her body mere inches from yours.
"Good," she says simply, before beginning to guide you through the steps.
You stumble a little at first. But Wednesday is patient, her instructions clear and concise. Slowly, you begin to find your rhythm, moving in tandem with her.
As you dance, you can't help but notice the way Wednesday's eyes never leave yours. There's an intensity there, a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch in your throat.
"You're doing well," she murmurs, her voice soft. "Just follow my lead."
You move gracefully in Wednesday's arms, your body reacting instinctively to her guidance. The fabric of your black trousers brushes against her dress as you spin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
Wednesday's gaze is intense, her dark eyes boring into yours with an unspoken question. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart races at her proximity.
"You're a natural," she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. "I knew you'd be good at this."
You duck your head, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's easy when I have a good partner," you manage, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "Is that so?" she asks, her tone teasing.
You nod, your gaze flickering down to her lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "Definitely," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper.
Wednesday hums, her fingers tightening around yours. "Good," she says simply, before pulling you closer, your bodies now just inches apart.
You can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the scent of her perfume filling your nostrils. Your breath hitches, your pulse pounding in your ears.
"Now," Wednesday says, her voice low and husky. "Let's try something a little more... challenging."
She steps back, her hand leaving yours. You feel a momentary pang of loss, your fingers aching to touch her again.
But then Wednesday begins to move, her body swaying to a beat only she can hear. She extends her hand, a silent invitation for you to join her.
You hesitate for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest. But then, with a deep breath, you step forward, ready to follow wherever she leads.
You take Wednesday's hand, her fingers cool and strong in your grasp. She pulls you close, your bodies pressing together as she guides you into a new dance.
This one is more sensual, the steps slower and more deliberate. Wednesday's gaze never leaves yours, her dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.
You move together, your bodies swaying in perfect sync. The world around you fades away, until there is nothing but the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the dance.
Wednesday's hand slides up your arm, her fingers trailing over your skin. You shiver at the contact, your nerve endings igniting with each touch.
"You're doing well," she murmurs, her lips barely brushing against your ear. "Keep going."
You nod, your body responding to her commands without hesitation. You've never felt so in tune with another person, so utterly in sync.
As the dance comes to an end, Wednesday pulls you into a final, tight embrace. You can feel the heat of her body against yours, the softness of her breasts pressing into your chest.
For a moment, you're frozen, your heart pounding in your ears. You know you should pull away, put some distance between you. But you can't bring yourself to move, not when Wednesday feels so perfect in your arms.
Slowly, tentatively, you raise your hand, your fingers brushing against the silky strands of her hair. Wednesday's eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her tongue. "I..."
Your heart races as Wednesday's breathy voice caresses your name. In this moment, suspended in time, the world seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you, hearts beating as one.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, you lean in closer, your forehead resting against hers. Your hands slide up to cup her face, thumbs gently stroking her high cheekbones.
Wednesday's eyes flutter open, dark and filled with a vulnerability you've never seen before. Her hands come up to rest on your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
"I..." she starts, her voice barely a whisper. "I want..."
But she trails off, unable to finish the thought. Instead, she closes the remaining distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath away.
You melt into the kiss, your body molding against hers like it was made to fit. Wednesday's lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a desperate hunger.
Your hands slide into her hair, tangling in the silky strands as you deepen the kiss. Wednesday makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, a sound of pure need.
Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of her. The rest of the world fades away, leaving only this moment, this connection.
When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. Wednesday rests her forehead against yours, her hands still gripping your waist tightly.
"That was..." she starts, her voice rough with emotion.
"Perfect," you finish for her, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Wednesday hums in agreement, nuzzling her nose against yours. "I've wanted to do that for a while now," she admits, her tone shy.
You chuckle softly, your fingers carding through her hair. "I'm glad you did," you murmur, bringing your lips to hers once more.
As you kiss, you know that this is just the beginning. The start of something new, something beautiful and terrifying and utterly intoxicating.
Wednesday's hands slide down to your hips, her fingers gripping your waistband tightly. With a sudden tug, she pulls you flush against her, your body pressing into hers.
You gasp at the contact, your hands flying up to grip her shoulders for balance. Wednesday takes advantage of your momentary distraction, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.
With a soft push, she sends you tumbling onto the mattress, her body following yours. You land with a bounce, your breath knocked from your lungs as Wednesday settles on top of you, her weight pinning you in place.
"Wednesday," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you..."
But your question is cut off as Wednesday captures your lips in another searing kiss. Her tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch of you with a desperate hunger.
You moan into the kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, urging her closer. Wednesday grinds against you, the heat of her core seeping through the thin layers of fabric separating you.
Wednesday breaks the kiss, her dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that steals your breath. She sits up, straddling your hips, her hands resting on your chest.
"I want you," she whispers, her voice low and husky. "But we don't have to..."
You reach up, cupping her face in your hands. "I want this," you assure her, your thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "I want you."
Wednesday nods, her gaze never leaving yours. Slowly, she leans down, pressing her lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.
Your hands slide down her back, settling on her hips. You guide her movements, encouraging her to grind against you. The friction is delicious, the heat building between your legs.
Wednesday gasps into your mouth, her hips moving faster, more urgently. You can feel her growing wetter, her arousal soaking through your clothes.
You break the kiss, panting heavily. "Let me," you plead, your voice rough with desire.
Wednesday nods, shifting off of you. You sit up, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for the hem of her dress. With a swift movement, you pull it over her head, tossing it aside.
She sits before you, clad only in a black lace bra and matching panties. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her pale skin flawless in the dim light.
You lean forward, pressing reverent kisses along her collarbone, down the swell of her breasts. Wednesday shivers, her fingers tangling in your hair.
Your hands slide down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a gentle tug, you pull them down her legs, leaving her bare before you.
You take a moment to drink in the sight of her, your gaze roaming over her body appreciatively. Wednesday flushes under your attention, her thighs pressing together shyly.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper, your voice filled with awe.
Wednesday shakes her head, her dark hair falling in waves around her face. "I'm not..." she starts, but you silence her with a kiss.
Switching positions, you lay Wednesday down on the bed, your body covering hers. You capture her lips in a searing kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, exploring every inch of her.
Wednesday moans softly into the kiss, her hips arching up to meet yours. Your hands slide down her sides, cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.
You break the kiss, your lips trailing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. Wednesday gasps, her fingers digging into your back, urging you on.
Your hand slides down her stomach, teasing the edge of her panties. Wednesday's breath hitches, her thighs parting slightly in invitation.
You dip your fingers beneath the fabric, finding her slick and ready for you. Wednesday whimpers, her hips bucking into your touch.
Your fingers glide through Wednesday's slick folds, finding her sensitive bud. She gasps, her hips jerking at the sudden contact.
"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her lips.
You circle her clit with teasing strokes, reveling in the way her body responds to your touch. Wednesday's thighs tremble, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her.
Slowly, you slide a finger inside her, groaning at the way her walls clench around you. Wednesday is so hot, so tight, so perfect.
You add a second finger, pumping them in and out of her slick heat. Wednesday's head thrashes on the pillow, her mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure.
Your thumb finds her clit again, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub. Wednesday's hips buck wildly, her body chasing the release you're so eager to give her.
"Please," she whimpers, her voice barely audible. "I need..."
But she doesn't finish the thought, her body arching off the bed as you curl your fingers just right. You can feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around your digits.
With a final twist of your wrist, Wednesday comes undone, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. You hold her through it, whispering words of praise and encouragement.
As she comes down from her high, you press soft kisses to her sweat-dampened skin, murmuring your love and devotion. Wednesday clings to you, her body still trembling with aftershocks.
In this moment, the rest of the world fades away. There is only the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of love and passion.
You wake to the sound of the door opening, your eyes fluttering open to find Wednesday still asleep beside you. For a moment, you simply lie there, taking in the sight of her.
Her dark hair is fanned out across the pillow, her face relaxed in sleep. Your gaze travels down her body, tracing the curves and dips you explored so thoroughly the night before.
The door swings open fully, revealing a surprised Enid standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene before her - you and Wednesday, tangled together in the afterglow.
"Oh," she breathes, her cheeks flushing pink. "I... I didn't know you two were..."
You sit up quickly, pulling the covers up to your chin. Wednesday stirs, her eyes blinking open in confusion.
"Enid?" she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
Enid clears her throat, averting her gaze. "Sorry," she says, backing out of the room. "I'll just... I'll leave you two alone."
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you and Wednesday in a tense silence. You glance at her, unsure of what to say.
But Wednesday just sighs, turning to face you. "Well," she says, her tone dry. "That's one way to start the day."
298 notes · View notes
curtins · 3 days ago
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going to a cafe with the jujutsu kaisen men a/n: (based on irl experience with a wide variety of subpar men) 😭 gojo's order being my order...aurkay!
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gojo — def the type to walk in and push his sunglasses down to check out the place. his order def goes something like a venti caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut, and a little caramel swirl at the top. smiles and is friendly to all the baristas, he's never rude to workers. tells the barista is gojo, with an o. whoever's unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him is doomed to hear him wax poetic about how coffee beans are the soul of the earth, and its 'really deep, you wouldn't get it lol'. if you order a black coffee, he'll ask if everything is okay at home. can't leave the cafe without ordering a $8.00 sweet treat and then wondering why all his purchases are adding up
geto — walks in as if he's a regular and tells the barista that he'll have his 'regular'. the barista has never seen him before. probably orders a flat white, double shot of espresso, no foam. he always says he doesn't have to pretend to like foam because he's chill like that. he'll ask for the wifi password, but only so he can show off how good he is at working in a cafe, but his ass is on coolmathsgames. will nod and pretend to care about whatever you're saying but he's still thinking about coolmathsgames. will also drop random metaphors like 'life is just like coffee. you either take it strong or with sugar.' you tell him to save the bad metaphors for his cult.
nanami — doesn't wander or hesitate when he enters the cafe. checks his watch every five minute. orders a black coffe, medium, and adds one packet of sugar. he's pretty good at ordering what he wants efficiently, and it leaves even the barista worried. he's here to relax so don't ask him any unnecessary question because this man needs a break. actually enjoys eavesdropping on people's conversations, and ends up tilting his angle to snoop on gossip better. avoids small talk like its another curse. you can't really make him react too much in a cafe, unless you spill coffee on his freshly pressed suit. will be passive aggressive and suggest that the cafe chooses better music. likes a good, dependable pastry. apple danishes are a favourite.
sukuna — prefers tea, without debate. but still orders relatively normal things. likes a good latte with chocolate syrup. but the king of curses kinda has to look cool, so he powers his way through a black coffee, with no sugar or milk. you swear his eyes are tearing up as he pretends to like it. after every sip of coffee, he sighs really loudly and it gets a bit annoying. even after you ask what's wrong, he says its nothing and continues to sigh loudly. nanami may be the one who eavesdrops, but sukuna is the one who interferes. will turn around in his chair to give unsolicited advice, but he genuinely thinks he's being helpful by telling schoolgirls to buy cleavers to chop their friends' hands off. is mildly offended when they move tables and give him weird looks. passes loud comments on other people and tells couples when he thinks they will breakup. attempts to connect to the wifi three times before threatening to burn the router.
toji — the barista asks if he wants a pastry with his drink and he asks 'do i look like the type of man to eat a muffin?' but if they're free, he'll take two. sits with his back to the wall like he's in a mob movie. god help anyone who sits too close to him, he really just doesn't trust anyone in his personal space. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of others until he's had at least three sips of his coffee. you could tell him his house is on fire, and he’d just mutter that he can't do anything about it now. types the wifi password on his phone with one finger like a caveman. tells parents to 'control their spawn' but entertains kids with coin tricks when no-one is looking. sometimes struggles to fit the lid on his go-to cup, and refuses to asks for help. wrestles with it for five minutes, getting increasingly annoyed before rushing out the door.
choso (this one is dedicated to pookie @creamflix) — frowns at the menu like it's written in an ancient language, like wtf is affogato. if someone behinds him coughs, he scolds them and says he's going as fast as he cans. spends 10 minutes deciding and then panics at the last second, tells the barista to give him whatever. if the barista asks any follow up questions (like milk preferences) he genuinely short circuits, "what kinds of milk are there?" he's genuinely baffled that there are options beyond 'cow.' he'll point at a pastry and ask what's in it. the barista explains and he replies with 'okay i trust you.' always ends up picking a wobbly table by accident and spends 15 minutes trying to fix it with folded napkins. if someone asks to share his table, he'll look like they just asked for his kidneys. if someone asks for his opinion on his pastry, its always a dumbass cryptic answer like 'its interesting.' uses his phone on full brightness and everyone can see him look up 'how to pronounce cafe au lait.' cleans up after himself because he's nice like that. if the staff get his order wrong, he never says anything even if it tastes like dirt.
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ttrashlord · 2 days ago
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⋆ ˚⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚⋆Headcanons of Arcane men kissing reader and how to they kiss (no gender specific) ⋆ ˚⋆୨♡୧⋆
Pairing:Steb x reader,Viktor x reader,Ekko x reader
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STEB
It depends on the situation,if you two are in public (let's say in a date) he is sweet,tender,but nothing more than that.
If things start to get heated he will slowly apart and say something like: "not here hon' "or " let me save this moment for later"
If you're alone,in his or your house,that's different story.
He is selfcontroled...usually.
Your kisses start slow,tender,sweet,but the more he gets of you,the more he WANTS of you.
If you're on his lap,and start a whole make out session,oh boi,lets get ready to the MOST tender boyfriend you ever met (maybe besides Viktor)
He won't just slip his hand on your body (he's not a beast) he is asking for permission,and i mean this,for ANYTHING ALWAYS.
I have this headcanons where he instead of normal teeth he has sharp teeth,like sharks and kirishima
He won't do the thing where the person bites the other one's lip and pull (or any bite in general) because of this.
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VIKTOR
Viktor is a goddamn problem,because you just don't know what to expect.
Imagine that you're on his lab (for our sanity jayce is gone early) and you're reading something in your chair,suddenly,hands appear on your shoulders,turns you around and BOOM,a heated,needy kiss from your boyfriend.
How did this even happen??
Dont complain pls i beg u
Just a few moments before,he was giving you pecks on the neck and cheeks,and now this??
(I mean,if i was you i will definetly not complain)
So when viktor is like this:
You want to rest in your bed and receive sweet love from your sweet boyfriend? Check
You want a whole make out session with no oxygen in your lungs? Check
You want It,you got It.
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EKKO
(We all saw the scene with jinx but listen to me)
He is just into pda,(don't disrespect me on this one)
He will show It to you if:
1-is jealous,like,SUPER jealous
2you start the pda
He doesn't have a problem,like a said before,he likes It,but doesn't like to start It
But if you're in private oh oh oh boi pray to be saved from his love.
He cant get just enough of you.
He doesn't give two fucks about starting slow,he knows what he wants,and he wants It NOW
he is the type to try new things just to know your reaction.
Bites,caressing,tongue,the knee,Who said that?
But anyways,if you are in a bad mood or just need to be reminded how much he loves you,a slow,Deep kiss and a lots of pecks in your whole face will be given.
But yeah,you get the idea of how he usually is.
A/N-it's strange that i post like 4 post in a day?
Thank you so much for reading this!
I'll be doing so much more,about...you know...things
But i'll Focus more on arcane and fandoms that i know
I'll like to Focus more on steb because this poor baby deserves much more love ;(
See y next post ;) 🫰
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