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theonottsbxtch · 17 days ago

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I LOVED YOU FIRST PT2 | FC43

part one

an: not even gonna leave an an, i always had a part two lol

wc: 5.2k

Franco found out she was dating Angelo via an Instagram story. A fucking Instagram story.

But that was almost three years ago now, and Franco tried to let it go, god did he try. He was getting married now, after all. He had to forget about what could have been.

The engagement ring on his finger felt heavier than it should. Not because he hadn’t once thought it was right—he had. Or maybe he just convinced himself it was right. They’d been together for four years, maybe more, he stopped counting. She was beautiful, poised, easy to love, easy to fit into his world. That’s what he’d told himself, anyway.

But now, standing in the grand suite of the London hotel they’d rented for the weekend, Franco stared out the window at the city below, watching the lights flicker in the distance. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was missing. Not that he had any right to be questioning it. After all, he was about to get married, wasn’t he?

The last three years had been a blur of wins, podiums, and post-race parties. Formula 1 had been a dream realised, his face plastered across billboards in every country, every magazine with his name next to the headlines. He’d travelled the world, earned millions, lived a life many envied. But somewhere along the way, his heart had wandered.

And the truth was, despite the glamour, despite the fame, the money, he couldn’t shake the thought of her. The way she’d looked when she told him she loved him first. The way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears that night in Monza—before she left for good. The way she’d walked away, no longer the girl he took for granted. It was like he could still see her disappearing down the hallway of the hotel, leaving him behind, a shadow in her past.

What if I had chosen her?

He thought about that too often. But it was too late. She was gone. She’d moved on with Angelo, the guy who was everything Franco wasn’t—steady, grounded, someone who could give her a love that wasn’t tied to racing, fame, or endless, mind-numbing travel. And that fucking Instagram story—her laughing, the two of them in a café in Buenos Aires, arms around each other, looking so effortlessly happy—had been the final blow.

That was the last straw.

And now, three years later, here he was—about to get married, with the wrong person. He should have been thrilled, but something about it gnawed at him, like he was suffocating in a life that wasn’t his own. She was everything he thought he wanted. She’d followed him to every race, always the perfect girlfriend, the perfect partner. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure he loved her anymore. He wasn’t sure he ever had.

She had been the easy option. She fit into the world he’d built for himself—the shiny, public life, the world of sponsorships and media appearances. She had the right background, the right education, the right looks. She was what was expected of him. What people saw when they looked at a successful F1 driver: the perfect match, the ideal woman.

But the reality was that whenever he closed his eyes, he saw someone else. He saw her. The girl from that small village in Argentina, the one who’d loved him first and probably would, even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when he hadn’t been able to see it for what it was.

He hadn’t thought about her for a while—not in the sense that would make him ache, not the way he used to. He’d buried that pain under the chaos of the last few years. But it was like a low hum in the back of his mind. Every time he saw Angelo’s name pop up, or when he’d hear a new story about her from people back home, he couldn’t help but wonder how her life had turned out. Was she happy? Was she still with Angelo? Was she finally over him?

He could only imagine the life she’d built without him—the kind of life she deserved.

But now, standing on the edge of a new chapter of his life, Franco wondered if he’d ever be able to move on. Because, no matter how many laps he raced, no matter how many trophies he collected, it always came back to her. And now, with his wedding on the horizon, he couldn’t help but ask himself: What the hell had he been doing this whole time?

His phone buzzed on the table, snapping him back to the moment. His fiancée. A text: “Hey, I made reservations for dinner tonight!”

He sighed and stared at the screen of his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

He knew he shouldn’t, it was ridiculous. It was stupid. He had no right to send her an invitation, not after everything. He hadn’t heard from her in so long, hadn’t even thought about reaching out beyond those painful Instagram stories and the passing updates from mutual friends.

But, for some reason, there he was—typing out an invitation to his wedding.

It’s the right thing to do, he told himself. She was a part of his past. She had been the first person to love him unconditionally. They’d spent too many years growing up together not to extend an olive branch. Besides, she had a life now, a life without him. Maybe it was selfish to think she would even want to come, but maybe, just maybe, she deserved to know. She deserved to hear it from him, the way things had turned out.

He hit “send” before he could overthink it any more. The words felt hollow as they left his phone, but there was no going back now.

It was a quiet afternoon in Buenos Aires. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light through the windows of their apartment. She and Angelo had just finished dinner—nothing fancy, just pasta and wine—and now she was curled up on the couch with a book in her lap, one of the many cosy rituals they had settled into over the past couple of years.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced at it, seeing a notification from her email app. The subject line made her pause.

Wedding Invitation: Franco Colapinto.

She blinked, feeling her chest tighten before she even opened it. It had been so long since she’d thought about him—since Monza, really. It was a chapter of her life that had closed the moment she walked away. But the sight of his name brought it all rushing back. The summers spent racing bikes down dirt roads, his smile so effortless, so wide. The way he’d looked at her before everything changed.

Slowly, she opened the email, feeling a strange mixture of nostalgia and disbelief.

I hope this message finds you well. It’s been a while since we last spoke, but I wanted to reach out and invite you to something important. I’m getting married in three months' time, and I wanted to personally invite you to be a part of the day. It wouldn’t feel right without including you.

I understand if you’re unable to come, but I thought it was important to extend the invitation.

I hope everything is going well in your life.

All the best,

Fran

She stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, the words swimming in her mind. There were so many things she could have said, but the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of her heart, beating a little faster than it should. A soft ache settled in her chest.

Three years had passed. She had moved on, found a life she was proud of—one that was stable and calm, filled with love from Angelo, whose steady hand had never wavered, who had been everything Franco couldn’t be. She had built a future, and it was more than she had ever expected for herself.

And yet, the invitation sat there, a reminder of what had been. Of the boy she had loved, the boy who had never truly seen her. Of the boy who she had walked away from.

She set the phone down for a moment, leaning back against the couch. Angelo’s gentle snoring filled the living room from the slightly ajar door, a quiet reminder of the life they had made together—together, with no ghosts of the past lingering between them. But even as she sat there, she could feel the sting of Franco’s message, the painful reminder of how much had been left unsaid.

She thought about the wedding. How strange it felt to be invited to something so intimate, something so final. It was a life she would never be a part of. A life that wasn’t hers to claim, never was. But part of her, deep down, still wondered what had happened. Was he happy? Was this really the life he wanted? Or was this just another easy option for him? Another decision made out of convenience?

Why am I even asking myself this?

She shook her head, her lips curling into a rueful smile. She knew she didn’t want to go. There was no reason to go back to that part of her life, not now. Not when everything she had built with Angelo was exactly where it needed to be.

The following morning, the soft clink of Angelo’s keys echoed through their small kitchen as he got his things ready for work. He was already dressed in his crisp suit, his tie neatly adjusted, preparing for another day at the law firm. She, on the other hand, was in her scrubs, packing her bag for her shift at the hospital.

She was tying her trainers when she saw him glance at her, his eyes focused on his phone.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. “You seem a little quiet this morning.”

She shrugged, setting her bag down on the counter. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

It was only a half-lie. She had hardly slept last night after receiving Franco’s invitation. The words had stuck with her, gnawing at her thoughts, replaying in her mind like a loop she couldn’t escape.

“What’s up?” Angelo asked, watching her intently, his brow furrowing slightly.

She hesitated, then sighed and reached for her phone, pulling up the email Franco had sent her. She handed it to him without a word.

Angelo read it in silence, his eyes scanning the screen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but somehow, she already knew that he would have an opinion on it.

Finally, he set the phone down and looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. “He’s getting married, huh? I didn;’t believe it when I saw it on the news.” he said softly.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly, as if the words themselves felt like an admission. “I guess he thought I should know.”

“You’re not planning on going, are you?” Angelo asked, his voice laced with concern.

She shook her head, biting her lip. “He’s my past now. It doesn’t matter. It’s… it’s not something I need to revisit.”

Angelo nodded, his eyes softening as he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He knew how much Franco had meant to her—how he had once been the centre of her world. But that was years ago. And he had never once doubted that she was now his world.

“I haven’t seen Franco since we were sixteen,” Angelo said, his tone thoughtful. “I know things between you and him ended... well, the way they did. But maybe it might be good to go. For closure. For you, if nothing else.”

She met his eyes, her gaze wavering. “Closure?” she repeated, almost incredulously. “I don’t need closure, Angelo. I moved on a long time ago.”

“I know,” Angelo said, his voice gentle but firm. “But I think sometimes it’s easy to say we’ve moved on, that we’re over things. But there are pieces of our past that stick with us, no matter how much time passes. Maybe seeing him—seeing that life—will help you put the final chapter behind you. Don’t you think?”

She was quiet for a long moment, turning the idea over in her head. It made sense, in a way. The past had never quite been put to rest, even if she had buried it deep. Maybe it wasn’t about Franco anymore. Maybe it was about facing what had happened, about finding peace with it, once and for all.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I don’t want it to mess with what we have, Angelo. I don’t want to go and be reminded of something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Angelo smiled softly, taking her hand in his. “It won’t. I promise. You’re the one I want, mi amor You’re the one who matters. Whatever happened back then, whatever Franco was, that’s not us. It’s not our life. But if this is something you think you need to do, then I’ll be there with you. I want you to have the closure you need.”

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. Angelo had always been like that—steady, understanding, and so patient with her. He never pushed her to forget, but he also didn’t hold her to the past. He was the one who made her feel safe, who built her the life she was proud of, and the thought of him beside her through whatever this was made her feel like she could take on anything.

With a slow, hesitant breath, she met his eyes. “You’re right. Maybe it would be good to go. I don’t know what I’ll feel when I see him, but I think... I think I can handle it now.”

Angelo smiled, squeezing her hand. “Then we’ll go. Together.”

She nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. The decision was made, and it was time to let go of the last remnants of the past. Franco and his life—whatever that was now—could stay in the past, but she wouldn’t be running from it anymore.

“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “For always being here.”

“Always,” Angelo replied, his voice warm. “Now go. You don’t want to be late for your shift.”

She smiled at him one last time before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. The wedding was still months away, but somehow, her world felt just a little bit more at peace now.

Three months later

The morning of the wedding, the soft rays of the sun filtered through the curtains of their hotel suite, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress as Angelo adjusted his cufflinks in the reflection behind her. The air was filled with a quiet sense of anticipation. It had been a few months since she agreed to come to the wedding, and now, standing in this luxurious hotel in the heart of the Mediterranean, she could feel the surrealness of it all.

She was here. With him. With Angelo.

He caught her gaze in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice tender.

She smiled back, her heart swelling with a quiet joy. Angelo was always so calm, so steady, and he knew exactly how to make her feel loved without needing to say much. The simple moments like this were the ones that made her certain that their life together, their future, was the right one.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He was perfect in every way. “You look handsome, as usual,” she added with a smile.

He chuckled softly. “I try,” he teased, adjusting the hem of his suit jacket before stepping forward to take her hand. “Are you ready for this? I know it’s been a long time coming.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready. It’s just… it’s strange. You know? We’re not the same people we were three years ago. And I feel like I’m finally letting go of that past. I just need to do it, for me. And for us.”

“Whatever you need, you have it,” Angelo said, his voice unwavering, filled with a quiet strength.

She smiled at him, grateful for his support. They had come so far, and no matter what happened today, she knew she was in the right place.

“I’m going to step outside for a second,” she said, pulling away from him gently. “I’m going to grab a photo of the schedule. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Angelo replied, watching her with those warm, reassuring eyes.

She stepped into the corridor of the hotel, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She pulled out her phone, navigating to the event details to snap a photo of the ceremony’s schedule. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant chatter of guests below and the hum of preparations for the wedding in the distance. The excitement was palpable in the air, but in this moment, everything felt calm.

That was until she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

She turned around, feeling her heart give a small, unexpected jolt when she saw him.

Franco.

He was standing there, half-dressed in a black tuxedo with his shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, his tie still loose around his neck. He looked just like he did three years ago—handsome, dishevelled in the way that made him seem effortlessly charming.

Her stomach tightened.

“You came,” he said, his voice soft with surprise.

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before forcing a calm smile. “I said I would,” she replied evenly. Her heart beat just a little faster, but she kept her expression neutral.

He looked at her, his gaze a little more intense than she remembered, and she couldn’t quite place the mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. There was something unspoken there, something she hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t think you’d follow through,” he added, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

She didn’t know what to make of that. She shrugged. “I thought I’d at least be polite.”

A silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and thick with everything that had been left unsaid over the years. Franco’s gaze drifted toward the floor for a moment before he looked back up at her, his jaw tense, and his voice was almost pleading when he spoke.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his words hesitant.

She hesitated, feeling her pulse quicken. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to go back to the past—didn’t want to open that door again.

“I’d rather not,” she said, her tone firm, though her heart was beating harder than she cared to admit.

Franco’s expression softened. “It’s been three years. Three years overdue, don’t you think?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, the weight of everything hanging between them. She didn’t owe him anything, and yet, a part of her—perhaps the part that had loved him—knew there was still something lingering. Something that she hadn’t been able to shake off.

She finally gave a soft sigh, one that carried all the weariness of the years that had passed. “Fine,” she said quietly, her shoulders sagging slightly in resignation. “But just for a minute. I don’t have time to rehash everything.”

“Thank you,” Franco murmured, stepping forward as he gestured down the hallway. “My room’s just down here. I won’t keep you long.”

They walked down the corridor in silence, the weight of the moment sinking in. She wasn’t sure what she expected from this conversation, but she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not for either of them. When they reached his room, Franco opened the door and stepped aside to let her in.

It was a modest suite, far removed from the lavish ceremony unfolding just downstairs. The quiet of the room seemed to accentuate the tension between them. He closed the door behind them, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice distant as he turned to face her. “Water? A drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

There was a long pause. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous. For the first time in a long while, he seemed uncertain.

“So…” Franco began, taking a breath, “I guess this is awkward, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice steady, but her insides were churning. “A little.”

Before she even had a chance to settle with what she was doing, he shot her straight to the heart with the words that came out of his mouth.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I did, but that wasn’t ever my intention. You were always there for me, and I should’ve done better. I should’ve realised…”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that was all too familiar. He seemed to be gathering the courage to say something, but when he spoke, his words were not what she expected.

“I should’ve told you,” he started, voice low, almost regretful. “I should have told you that I loved you.”

She blinked, her chest tightening as she took in the weight of his words. “Don’t,” she said quickly, cutting him off. Her voice was sharp, a defence mechanism against the rawness he was trying to expose. “You can’t do that. You can’t come here and say things like that after all this time. It’s... it’s mean.”

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I should’ve told you,” he repeated, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, perhaps? Regret?

She shook her head, unable to stop herself from responding. “Why are you still with her, then?” Her voice trembled slightly, the question feeling more like a challenge than a simple inquiry. She thought of how excited she must be right now getting ready, while he was confessing his love to his childhood best friend. She wondered whether she knew.

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his eyes flickered away, as though he was ashamed of the truth he was about to speak. “It’s easier to pretend to love her,” he admitted, his voice flat. “It’s easier than facing the truth.”

“Than what?” she asked, her words cutting through the air, her eyes locking onto his. “Than admitting you love me?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Franco’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, a hesitation lingering between them. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he exhaled deeply, as if trying to gather the strength to continue.

“You don’t understand,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. I still don’t.”

She looked at him, biting her lip, trying to keep herself from breaking. “You can’t do this,” she said, her voice cracking with frustration. “You don’t get to walk back into my life now and make me feel like I was some... some second choice. You don’t get to say things that undo everything we went through.”

Franco’s gaze darkened, but his next words were even more dangerous. “Say it, and I’ll leave her,” he said, his voice low and intense, as if he were testing her. “Say you want me the same way you wanted me three summers ago, and I’ll do it. I’ll walk away from her. I’ll choose you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttering in her chest. The temptation was there—familiar, painful, and so very dangerous. She could feel that old longing tug at her, the part of her that had loved him so fiercely, so deeply. But this wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t the girl who would wait around for him to realise what he’d lost.

“I can’t,” she whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I can’t do that anymore. I’m happy now. I’m happy with Angelo.”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, and for a moment, it felt like she had to convince herself of them. But as she looked into Franco’s eyes—still searching, still wanting—she realised that she meant it. She really did.

Franco’s face fell, his expression a mixture of frustration and defeat. “You don’t understand,” he said again, the words sounding more like a plea. “I never stopped loving you.”

She took a step back, shaking her head, trying to clear the emotions that were spiralling inside of her. “No,” she said firmly, her voice resolute. “You don’t get to say that, Franco. Not now. Not when I’ve spent three years getting over all of this. You don’t get to come here and break my heart all over again.”

For a long moment, they stood there, the space between them filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. But it was over. It had to be.

“I can’t undo what happened,” she added softly, her gaze not leaving his. “But I’m not that girl anymore. And I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Franco didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The weight of everything they’d been through hung heavy between them, and it was clear now that nothing could fix it. Not words. Not promises.

She turned to leave, her hand on the doorknob, but before she could step out of the room, she paused, glancing over her shoulder one last time.

“I’m happy now, Fran,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite everything. “And you need to figure out what makes you happy too. But I can’t be part of that anymore.”

She opened the door and stepped out, not looking back, not giving him the chance to say anything more.

The wedding was beautiful.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the guests who had gathered for the wedding. The ceremony was set to take place on the terrace of the luxurious hotel overlooking the sea, the soft sound of waves lapping against the rocks below barely audible amidst the murmur of excited chatter.

She sat there, a few rows back from the front, Angelo by her side. The venue was beautiful—everything that was supposed to be perfect for a wedding. The guests were in their best attire, the flowers were arranged in pristine perfection, and the atmosphere felt like a dream. But something was off. A low hum of anxiety had been building ever since the music started, and she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Franco was supposed to be standing at the altar now. But he wasn’t.

She stole a glance at Angelo, who was sitting quietly beside her, a reassuring hand on her knee. He could sense her unease.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice almost drowned out by the gentle clinking of glasses and conversations around them.

She nodded, but her eyes drifted nervously toward the aisle. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Something feels wrong.”

The minutes dragged on. The officiant glanced at his watch, confusion spreading across his face as he leaned over to whisper something to the bridesmaids. There was no sign of Franco, and the guests were beginning to exchange worried glances. The tension in the air became palpable, the excitement of the ceremony suddenly replaced by a growing sense of discomfort.

After a few more minutes, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She turned to Angelo, her voice barely above a whisper, but her anxiety was thick in her words. “Do you think he’s going to come?”

Angelo squeezed her hand gently, his gaze soft and understanding. “I don’t know, cariño. Maybe something’s happened. He’s probably just... running late.”

But as they exchanged those quiet words, it became clear that it wasn’t just a delay. The guests were shifting in their seats, some starting to murmur under their breath, the ceremony now holding a sense of surreal anticipation.

And then, just as the whispers reached a crescendo, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind. Everyone turned, their heads swivelling as they saw him—Franco. He was walking down the aisle, his face pale, his expression one of guilt and uncertainty. He wasn’t in a rush, though. It was as if he was taking his time, as though he had already made a decision.

The room fell silent as Franco reached the front. He looked out at the gathering of faces—his family, his friends, all of them waiting for the moment when he would say "I do." But he didn’t speak immediately.

He was struggling with the words, and she could feel the weight of the tension from across the room. Her heart raced, confusion and disbelief washing over her as she watched him take a deep breath, his eyes scanning the crowd before finally locking on the bride’s family sitting in the front row.

“Excuse me,” Franco’s voice broke through the silence, shaky but loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m sorry for the disruption,” he continued, his eyes darting nervously between the bride and the guests. “I... I can’t do this. I can’t marry her.”

The air seemed to stop in that moment. His words hung like an echo, the shock rippling through the crowd. She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding in her chest as Freddie stood there, his face flushed with embarrassment, his hands trembling at his sides.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could,” he went on, his voice quiet but steady, “but I can’t marry her when I love someone else.” His gaze shifted to her, and for a split second, their eyes met. The pain, the regret, the history of everything they had been—it was all there in that single glance. But she didn’t feel anything but exhaustion. It was like watching someone else’s dream unravel.

The guests were murmuring, unsure of how to respond. His bride, stood by the doors he’d just walked in from, ready to walk down the aisle frozen and unmoving. Shelooked like she was about to collapse, her face pale as she took in the words that no one had expected.

“I’m sorry, I just—” Franco continued, his voice breaking, “I can’t do it. I can’t go through with it. I’m sorry. I—I just can’t.”

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, stepping down from the altar, leaving the bride standing alone, abandoned in front of everyone.

The room was filled with stunned silence.

Angelo reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as the reality of what had just unfolded sank in. She didn’t know how to feel—didn’t know what to think. Her chest ached with a strange mixture of relief and guilt, but most of all, there was a numbness that began to set in.

And then, just as quickly as Franco had walked away, he was gone, disappearing behind the closed doors of the venue, leaving a trail of shock in his wake. The ceremony was over before it had even begun.

She couldn’t help herself.

The guilt she felt in her stomach was strong.

It was her fault.

the end.

an: actual an, im sorry guys! i was feeling sad so i wrote this muahhah

tags: @obxstiles @charlosvibesonly @zestytimbit @taygrls

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heartiis · 2 months ago

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the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.1

pt.2

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, eventual weed, eventual tattoo artist ellie, cigs, drinking, no smut this time but there will be eventually, swearing, reader is feminine, descriptions of outfits, uhh can't think of what else I'm new to this

a/n - this is my first fanfic and english isn't my first language so yea !! there's going to be multiple parts, I'm not sure how many yet. I hope u like it. lots of wish fulfillment here bc I'm not american and would love to live in nyc. I tried to imagine what ellie, jesse and dina would be like irl but I also just did what I wanted to do loll

Your new apartment in New York was dingy, run down and just the slightest bit smelly. But that didn’t matter. You loved it because it was yours, just yours. You were going to pay the rent and everything, and you already had a job at a coffee shop lined up for when your savings ran out.

Then there was the matter of the neighbor. You see, very often, the smell of weed crept under their doorway and made it’s way into your apartment, and into your nose. It wasn’t that you hated it. No, unfortunately for you, you loved it. You wanted so desperately to know who it was that was stinking up your apartment, and what they must be doing every time they got high.

Did they listen to music, the same kind you did? Or did they just lay there, thinking about life? Where they talking to someone? Touching someone…?

You wouldn’t be so nosy, you imagined, if you had your own weed. But moving to a city where you knew no one was complicated. Finding a plug was complicated, even if it was in New York, and it would be great if you could befriend your neighbor and ask them for a referral.

Your question about what they looked like was suddenly answered when you came out on Monday morning for your first official shift at the coffee shop. On that day, your neighbor who you’d never seen before just happened to leave their apartment at the same time as you, and as soon as you saw her, you were struck by how hot she was.

Dressed in baggy, stylish clothes, with auburn hair cut to her shoulders and tied back in a haphazard bun, she was your idea of walking sex. The place you’d be working at didn’t have a uniform except for an apron with its logo, and suddenly you felt sheepish in your dainty goodwill floral dress and sneakers.

Everyone in New York was so cool, with studded belts and graphic tees from bands you obviously wouldn’t know, that your style which had suited you so well living in your small hometown now felt boring. You’d run away to the big apple to be where the action was, to meet cool people and live a full life. But it was growing increasingly clear to you that maybe those people wouldn’t be as eager to meet you.

You turned your head to look at your neighbor, who was exactly the type of person you’d envisioned would be a part of your new amazing life. She had freckles all over her nose and cheeks, creeping down her neck. And she had a beautiful tattoo on her arm. A tattoo! The grand majority of people in your hometown were too conservative to have those, even the young ones. You found yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers…

You realized you were staring, and tried to snap yourself back to reality. Work. You were in the elevator because you needed to go to work.

You straightened up as the elevator bell dinged, then started to walk out—and tripped. The stupid old machine had stopped just below floor level, making it so that you had to step up a bit as if climbing stairs, which you hadn’t done.

Right in front of your extremely hot, extremely-your-type-neighbor. Except it didn’t matter, did it? You didn’t want a complicated relationship with your neighbor (not that you had any confidence she’d be interested in you like that) and there were so many other hot women in New York.

But when you looked back, she was smirking, and it was the sexiest thing ever. So it did matter, a lot.

At least you’d managed not to fall.

You tried to gain back composure, laughing slightly so it was less awkward. But she just kept that same shit-eating grin on her face. Then she scoffed. Actually scoffed. Goddamn. What made it worse was that her distaste for you only made her hotter, more desirable, in your eyes. You were screwed.

You realized you weren’t moving when she walked past you with her hand reaching into her back pocket. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and did not look back at you as she walked out of the building. You wondered were she was going.

The rest of your day was anxiety inducing. You felt a growing swarm of nerves in your stomach as you were introduced to your co-workers and taught the ropes of your job. You were just thankful they didn’t have you dealing with clients yet. During the early hours of your shift, there had been a steady line at the cash register full of all kinds of people, some of them nice and patient, others not so much. You’d clearly chosen a busy spot to work in.

Then again, wasn’t that most places in New York? You smiled to yourself. Things were indeed nerve-racking, but they were also so very exciting.

As the week went on, you began to settle into the motions of your job. Making more complicated drinks was still very hard, but there were simpler manual tasks you would do were you didn’t have to think much about what your body was doing. And in those quieter moments, your mind would wander to that elevator, and the embarrassing moment you’d had.

After the inner panic at the thought of it would fade, you’d think about your neighbor. You wondered what her life was like here. What she did for a living, what her weekends looked like, if she participated in the nightlife of the city you had no friends to explore with yet. You wanted to know her name, and who her friends were, and if she had a girlfriend (because you were pretty damn sure she liked girls). But unluckily for you, you received very little hints.

After that first day on Monday, you hadn’t seen her in the mornings, nor in the afternoons when you came back home. All you had of her were those moments where the slight smell of weed rose up in your apartment, making you wish you could just knock on her door and join in on the smoke sesh.

Then Friday night came. You were spent from your busy first week and decided to stop by the supermarket on the way home to get yourself some cheap wine and a single wine glass.

It was a warm summer night, so you sat on the fire escape window in your little pajama shorts and tank top, setting down the things you’d bought next to you. You’d already opened the wine, so you poured it in the glass and took to sipping. When the first glass was done you poured yourself another, already starting to feel a little tipsy. You had just begun to drink it when you heard the sound of your neighbor’s window roll up, accompanied with a man’s laughter.

He stepped out onto the fire escape with a beer bottle and leaned against the railing. He wore clothes with a similar, baggy style to your neighbor’s. Then came out a pretty girl with dark hair pulled into a ponytail and heeled black leather boots.

“Come on, slowpoke!” she said, extending a hand.

“Alright, alright I’m coming! I was just checking my phone.” Your neighbor grabbed the girl’s hand and stepped onto the fire escape.

Girlfriend? You thought, feeling like you were deflating.

“You got a message from one of your little fuck buddies?” The girl teased.

Not a girlfriend. Oh, and your neighbor had fuck buddies. You found it kind of hot, of course. Because you were always into the girls who might as well be walking around with the word “danger” written onto their foreheads. It also did makes you feel a little weird, because you knew she wouldn’t fuck you, and even if she did, you’d just be a fuck buddy. But what did it matter? It wasn’t like you even knew her enough to be able to want anything more. Still, you felt weird.

“Clients, actually,” she responded.

“Yeah, Dina, you think Ellie would even deign to give any of those girls her number?”

So, her name was Ellie.

“Asshole,” Ellie said as Dina laughed.

Your time spent staring at her was cut short when she noticed your presence, looking directly at you. You couldn’t help but notice her grin slide right off her face. You picked up the wine glass and tasted the drink nervously.

“Hey!” The guy said, with a bright smile on his mouth. “You must be the new neighbor.”

“Yeah,” you said, hesitating. You watched Ellie’s reaction to this closely. She seemed annoyed her friend was even making conversation with you.

“Much cuter than the last one,” Dina smiled. You smiled back softly.

“Well, it’s not really hard to compete with Stinky Steve,” Ellie said, and your smile faded.

“Dude.” The guy shot her a look. “Anyways, my name’s Jesse. I’m Ellie’s friend.”

“Nice to meet you. My name’s y/n.”

“So,” Dina cut in. “Are you living alone or have you got a roomate that’s cute like you?”

“Um, I’m living alone. I’m new to the city, actually, so I don’t really know anybody yet.”

Jesse leaned onto the railing closest to your side. “Well, you know us now.” He looked at Dina and Ellie, taking a swig of his beer. “You know what? We actually came here to pre-game. We’re going to this club in like an hour, if you want to come with.”

“Jesse.” Ellie looked like she wanted to deck him.

“What? She seems cool!”

“Yeah, Ellie, don’t be such a dick. Be nice to your neighbor.” Dina poked her. Ellie didn’t say anything else, just sat down on the window ledge and looked brooding.

“So, what do you say y/n?”

You thought about it. Maybe the wine was making you more confident, but you kind of wanted to say yes. Not just because you wanted to get closer to Ellie, but because Dina and Jesse seemed cool too, and you really wanted to go out partying in the city. You looked at Ellie, who was staring off into the distance. You’d feel uncomfortable saying yes, knowing she clearly didn’t want you to go. But then you thought it wasn’t fair for her to keep you from making friends. It didn’t make sense for her to hate you so much. You hadn’t even done anything to her.

Yeah, fuck her.

“Okay. I’m just going to get ready while you guys pre-game, is that good?”

“Hell yeah!” Jesse clapped his hands. “Knock on our door when you’re ready.”

“My door,” Ellie interjected. You thought to yourself that you were going to find some other hot girl to dance with, so you could forget about your rude neighbor.

“Oh, one thing,” Jesse said. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Same as Ellie! You got a fake id?”

Ellie scoffed. “Definitely not..” She said it under her breath, but you heard it anyways.

“Of course.” You smiled.

“Attagirl.”

Dina smiled and looked pointedly at Ellie.

You climbed inside your apartment, heading straight to your room. Your excitement was taken down a notch when you opened your closet. Jesse, Dina and Ellie were all wearing stylish clothes. Dina had on a hot club girl outfit, while Jesse and Ellie looked like attractive people you’d see at the skate park. They all looked like they’d be stopped by one of those tiktok street interviewers who would ask them to talk about their outfits. You thought about Ellie’s clothes. She was wearing jorts and a shirt with the sides cut out, revealing her Calvin Klein sports bra at the sides. You bit your lip, then shook your head, turning to the task at hand.

Your floral dresses were out of the question. You had a few basic crop tops and tanks which would do for a top, but you didn’t want something that would just do. You were a resident of New York City now, and you wanted to look the part. Then you remembered something. One of the coolest girl friends you had back in your hometown had given you a dress because you’d said you thought it was hot.

You sifted through your things and fished it out. It was a simple black dress with thin straps, but it was quite short and meant to cling onto your body. You’d never worn it before, in part because you hadn’t had many occasions for it, and also in part because you were worried you’d feel self-conscious in it. Especially because it could easily ride up and expose your ass. Whatever. You took out from your closet some tights you could wear underneath and called it a day.

You slipped it on and put on a few rings and your favorite necklace, then went back to the bathroom to put on some makeup. You put on lots of eyeliner and eyeshadow around your eyes, creating a sort of smokey eye look, then stepped back to look at yourself. Finally, you sprayed on some of your favorite perfume. Perfect. You smiled and walked out of your apartment, knocking on Ellie’s door.

Dina answered. “Oh, shit, you look hot.”

“Thanks.” You tilted your head, a little shy but happy.

Jesse came up next to Dina. “Ready to go?”

“Yup,” you replied.

pt.2

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #fanfic #ellie x fem reader #dealer ellie #tlou2 #ellie x y/n

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irndad · 7 months ago

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kiss me (under the milky twilight)- s.r.

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry! based on this post- reader has an ex that she keeps running back to, and spencer just wants her to see him. fake dating and hijinks ensue. VERY long. 4.6k words!! thanks to @fadingplaidtrashpatrol for ur thoughts and ideas!! masterlist // ask

The unraveling begins on a Friday.

This is one of the rare Fridays where a full weekend is staring back at them, and Spencer is immeasurably pleased at his plans. He’s rented a Russian old movie, and his best friend had agreed to sit next to him on his shitty old couch while he whispers translations in real-time.

He loves spending time with her, a little hedonistically. She’s so kind, warm in both spirit and disposition, and Spencer treasures the time he gets to spend with her. Her desk adjoins his, and so one might assume that he could tire of her presence, but there’s something a little addicting about her, something he tries to have as often as he can.

On this fine evening, she’s wearing an oversized sweater tucked into jeans- her position is mainly out of the field, and so she takes full advantage of the dress-code flexibility. Lovely earrings hang around her face, adorning her lovely features like a frame.

Spencer’s more than a little in love with her.

This has never really been a convenient fact, but Spencer’s used to wanting things he can’t have. And it was never really feasible not to want her- anyone who’s ever been in her presence would know this. It’s a foreign feeling, looking over at someone he’s lucky enough to know, and wanting them enough for that desire to turn into fantasy.

“Spencer!” She greets him warmly, standing up to do so- if this wasn’t a workplace, if she was meeting him at the cafe like they do on Wednesdays, or his home, like she often finds herself in whenever he invites her, Spencer is certain she would wrap her arms around him in an incredibly warm hug.

Because they are in the BAU, she believes it is inappropriate to embrace this way (which Spencer would argue isn’t true, given the way Morgan and Penelope are with each other, but if he told her that, it might be a little too obvious how desperate he is for her to touch him.)

The way she beams at him almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her.

“I got you something,” he says in lieu of a response, clutching the bag of muffins in one hand. He’d woken up early to get her to stop by her favorite bakery, and it was worth it to see that look on her face. No one’s in the office now, the day long finished, and they’re getting ready to walk to his place. He lives so close by, and he’s grateful for this fact when they walk together back to his place.

She grabs the bag, and he’s just so endeared by her, the giddy expression written over her lovely face.

“Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do. You need to marry me, immediately.” She says to him, eyes closed in bliss, and even though she’s clearly joking, Spencer finds himself preening at her praise- wouldn’t it be incredible if she meant that? It sounds so pretty in her voice. I love you.

He beams back at her, in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how much he wants.

“I’m glad you like them,” he says back, his heart in his throat.

“I have some news that you are going to be incredibly mad at me about.” She says, and a crumb is on her painted lip, and fantasy of kisses that he cannot have enters Spencer’s mind before he can shake it away.

“I could never be mad at you.”

“I think I have to raincheck tonight,” she says almost sadly, her voice apologetic, as though she has no choice in the matter.

“Is everything okay?”

He had picked up her favorite snacks yesterday night, tidied up his apartment top to bottom.

“Josh texted me- he’s going through something and he needs me to come over-“

“He doesn’t need you to come over.”

He rarely interrupts her, and he usually isn’t capable of being upset with her. He’s not really even upset with her now, but this is so exhausting, watching her deal with this asshole.

It is a continuous surprise to Spencer that someone like her can be in a position like this.

Through Spencer’s eyes, the idea that anyone can not be in love with her is almost an impossibility. It’s not even his bias alone that makes him think this- it’s the truth of her.

Josh is an asshole finance bro who works in the city center, and Spencer hates him more than most serial killers.

He’s fucking careless with the thing Spencer wants the most in the world. Josh knows what it’s like to be with her, to be the person to falls asleep with her in his arms.

Sometimes when Spencer can’t sleep, which is quite often, he pictures her soft cheek on her chest, pictures what she would feel like entwined with his own body, legs tangled with his and her fingers in his hair. It’s a sacred thing, this image- even though it isn’t real, Spencer knows he values the imagination of her presence more than Josh gives his attention to the real thing.

They’ve “gotten together” and “broken up” and “started talking again” about 12 times respectively.

Spencer could kill him.

“Spence,” she sighs, shaking him out of his angry stupor, “please don’t be mad at me. He’s really going through something right now- he needs someone to be around. Besides,” she breathes out, “I can’t dump him.

“Why is that?” He tries to temper his tone, but the memory of her mascara running down her cheeks as she sobs in his arms shoots through his mind, and manifests as a physical sharp pain in his chest.

“That wedding is coming up,” she murmurs, looking down at her shoes. They’re scuffed, and Spencer thinks she might be embarrassed. Why should she be? He’s the asshole. “I told people I was going to have a date. Do you know how many people are going to be there, Spence? How many people are expecting me to bring my boyfriend?”

Her best friend is getting married. Spencer knows this because she’s told him, and told him gleefully when Josh had agreed to go with her. Spencer remembers thinking that he’d like to punch a wall.

Anyway.

She’s the last of her friend group that’s not in a long term relationship, and in some twisted way, he kind of gets how Josh would be better than nothing, if you didn’t want to be seen as alone.

“You don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah, Spence.”

“I could go with you.”

It escapes his mouth without his permission, and he regrets it almost instantly. Because there’s no fucking way she’d go with him. He’s lanky and awkward and his blazers never fit and his ties are always tied wrong, and she’s beautiful and wonderful in ways he finds new ways to see everyday. He’s not a solution to her being worried about how she’s seen, he’d only make it worse-

“You would do that for me?” Her voice is small as she asks, and it shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks down at her, eyes softening at her lovely face. She looks touched, and he has to wonder, doesn’t she know?

He’d do anything for her.

“Of course,” he breathes out, a nervous hand playing with the strap of his bag, “If it gets you to stop giving that asshole the time of day, I’d do it a million times.”

Her face shifts in a way he can’t read, and she swallows.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I want to,” he says, “Please. It would be fun, C’mon. You’re always saying I need to get out there and do things.”

“Being my fake boyfriend at my friend’s wedding is not getting out there and doing things,” she pouts, and his heart nearly jumps. It’s pathetic, but hearing her refer to him as her any kind of boyfriend is intoxicating. He wants to hear it, over and over.

“It’ll be fun,” he says, touching her hand as it rests on the table, making intentional eye contact. She has been prettiest eyes. “C’mon, let me do this for you. I’m sick of this guy.”

She gulps again, an endearingly confusing gesture, and he finds the feeling a little desperate. Pick me, choose to be with me, even if it’s just pretend.

“He’s going to be there anyway,” she breathes out biting her lip in a nervous gesture, “I- I’d owe you so much, Spence. It would make him jealous, I think.”

It’s a little hedonistic, how much he would enjoy that, he thinks. Someone would see her as his girl. He knows she might be doing this to get Josh’s attention, but still- the evening together seems like too lovely of a thing to turn down- too wonderful of a chance to not offer. He’d take a night of pretend over never getting to be with her at all.

It’s enough to make him ignore that making Josh jealous is probably the reason she’s saying yes.

“Okay, okay! Spencer, will you do me the honor of taking me to Julie’s wedding?”

“I would be honored.

The weeks approaching the wedding are a bit of sweet torture. She’d had the idea that they could practice, whatever that meant, and the memory of it lives in his mind rent free. They’d been watching the movie, already touchier than most would allow of best friends. (She’s his best, Spencer’s just the tiniest bit resentful of Julie).

She’d been sitting next to him on his worn out couch, her legs thrown across his, and true to his word, he was whispering the translation along to the movie. She smiled at him, watching his mouth move instead of the movie, and he felt tingly under her stare. How wonderful and bright it is, to be under her gaze. He kept speaking even though she wasn’t watching, because he imagines that if he stops, she might look away.

Then, she had held his hand.

Grabbed it really, fingers lacing with his own, and Spencer’s brain had short circuited. She has soft hands, he had thought to himself, and it was about the only thing he could manage to think.

“We should practice,” she had whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the lowlight of his home, “Y’know, so people believe us.”

He didn’t say that he’s pretty sure no one needed to be convinced he’s in love with her.

“Sure,” he had nodded, and squeezed her hand, “I think that’s a great idea.”

So they’ve been practicing.

This has been in equal measures wonderful and torturous. She walks with him to work on half the days, with her fingers twined with his own, and Spencer finds it intoxicating that any passerby would assume he belongs to her.

More than he already does, anyway.

Her affection is her own, just turned up to 11. She’s gorgeous- this is a fact that was not instrumental in his love of her, but ornamental- still, this is hard to ignore when she touches him as much as she does now. When she’s out with the team at the bar, she rests her hand on the small of his back- he preens every time at this. This is simple, her domesticity, her claiming his presence as her own- it’s more than nice, Spencer realizes. It’s wonderful, to be wanted by her. Even if it’s not real.

On this night, they’re celebrating. They caught the unsub before he’d been able to kill his first victim. This is a rarity in their field, and she’d given the interview that had gotten the confession. It’s the closest to field work she’d gotten, and they’re all celebrating their win. Her win.

She looks like a figment of imagination, lovely in a way he literally cannot believe he didn’t conjure up in fantasy. Her favorite song is playing out of pure serendipity, and Spencer likes that word for her. She is serendipitous as a whole.

“Do you want something to drink, honey?” The endearment feels warm and natural as it comes out of his mouth. His hand is resting on the small of her waist, and he knows he’s being egregious with the practice thing. But this is so nice, her leaning into him, one drink deep and touchier than she is tipsy, and he loves this. He loves that under this pretense, he gets to know what she feels like in his arms.

He hands her the water before she gets to answer, and she happily sips it.

“Are you proud of me, Spence?” Her voice is immeasurably fond and he drinks it in like a man starved.

“Of course,” he smiles at her. I’m always proud of you, he thinks. “You did so well, love.”

He’s not used to endearments, but she showers him in them. Before their little pretending, too. Called him dove, honey, darling. Packed an emergency lunch in his go bag in case he forgot his. She’s such a good friend, and he wants to be her lover more with each breath.

He tries to return them, now.

“Good,” she says serenely, looking at him in a way that kills him, because he will never, ever kiss her. She can hold him, and look at him like that, and he will never get to be with her, “I think my cider is too sour,” she scrunches her nose, and his heart swoops.

“I’ll get you something sweeter, baby.”

“Yeah you will!” He hears Morgan laugh, and he flushes bright red. No one seems surprised, by how touchy they’d been. Even Hotch- he’d expected a talk, but then got a stern nod of understanding in its stead.

She sips the sweet drink he got her, a little cherry on the step, and he thinks he’d do anything to keep looking at her.

Five weeks to the wedding.

He can do this.

“Could you do me a favor, Garcia? I come bearing gifts.”

Spencer’s snuck into her office- there’s not much to do today, but she hadn’t wanted to take PTO for no reason, so here she is, in her feathered and pink glory.

“Is that a hot chocolate? From Dominicks? Ooh, you play dirty, Dr. Reid.” Penelope almost squeals, and despite his nefarious purposes, he finds himself joyful- it’s alwaysgood to talk to her.

After a joyful, eyes closed and serene sip, she asks, “Alright, my sweet furry friend, what can I do for you?”

“Could you check on a Josh Collins for me?”

“Isn’t that your girl’s ex?”

“No,” Heat rises to his cheeks, before he can help it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh, and my favorite color is black.” Penelope scoffs back, but begins typing furiously anyway.

He needs to know what is so fascinating about this guy. Because lately he can’t figure it out. He’s always fucking hated the guy, even though he’s never met him. He never had to- she’d shown up enough times at Spencer’s door crying, been broken up with and brought back enough to know that this guy is awful. Doesn’t even come close to deserving the woman that she is.

“He’s a financial analyst at a Marketing firm, went to state school for his Bachelor’s, says here that he played football in college, but I don’t think they met until after,” she says, “Oh, he has a scuba license. And skydiving! Looks like he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”

It’s an evil thought. Is that what she likes? He finds it hard to imagine, picturing the moments where she’s wrapped up in his arms on a movie night- that always seemed to be her preference. In, not out.

“Is that him?”

There’s a picture of him on Penelope’s screen. Josh is chiseled and strong, smiling brightly in a polo on a jet ski- this is a photo posted on his social media, and Spencer has met a million of this guy. They bullied him in school. Spencer as genius and he’s a lot of things, but that will never be one of them. It’ll never, ever be him.

Good to know, anyway. Better not to fantasize about what he knows he can’t have.

On the day of the wedding, it’s actually a 6 hour drive. She’d offered to get them plane tickets, but he enjoyed his time with her. He was also desperate to extend the time until the wedding was over, and she’s probably the only person he wants to be trapped in a car with.

They’re sharing a hotel room. She’s booked two beds, which he’s honestly grateful for- if they’d shared a bed, he might’ve combusted.

Still, there is so much intimacy. She sings in the shower. He imagines a world where he’d know that in domesticity, where after a night spent in laughter and something like love, she showered in his home. But that’s not how he knows it. He knows it because he’s at her best friend’s wedding, pretending to be her boyfriend.

When she comes out of her bedroom, she’s gorgeous.

She’s got a green and purple dress on, a cinched waist and a sweetheart neck, a dash of plum lipstick on her lovely pout, and he’d like to kiss that smile very, very much. She’s a delicate kind of lovely, saturated in sweetness, and it’s sweet torture to have her this close.

“You look...” He struggles to find words, an uncommon occurrence in his life, “Like a vision.”

It’s sentimental and warmer than he wished he sounded, but god- she’s stunning. She looks like she’s made of old film, beautiful in that way that’s just a bit too good to be true. He adores her more with each breath.

“You think it’s okay?” She speaks to him with her doe eyes adorned with a concerned expression. He wants to kiss it away.

“You look lovely,” he says, a vast underselling.

The ceremony is a lovely affair, and Spencer learns that she cries at weddings. The bride and groom have lovely, saccharine vows, and Spencer tries not to picture a wedding that he will never get to have.

It’s a little bit impossible with her at his side.

She’s touchier now, even mores then when they were ‘practicing’. Her hands are warm laced with his own, her head leaning on his shoulder, and he feels lucky to have even a piece of getting to be with her.

At the reception, she is tackled by her friends, and he performs dutifully as the caring boyfriend. It’s not hard.

It’s a lovely night. His arms glued to the small of her waist, and he’s been introduced as her “genius FBI agent boyfriend” many times tonight. He turns bright red every time.

“This is my boyfriend, he’s the smartest ever,” she brags when she’s half a drink deep, and he cherishes the ability to draw circles on the small of her back in this moment- his words fail him in moments of praise, and touch is an avenue that he is rarely allowed to use.

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-“

“Which is a thing that humble geniuses say.”

So he’s having a great tine.

Her lipstick is transfer-free, and his cheek is proof. She’s so affectionate his heart keeps doing somersaults. There’s a signature cocktail with some pun in the couples name.

“I’m fucking obsessed with these, Spence,” she says, a light airiness to her voice that he recognizes as her tipsy voice, “Can you get me another, my love?”

“Yes, honey.” He smiles at her, and kisses the crown of her hair before leaving her in the company of her friends. He’s indulging a bit too much, he’s aware. He’s going to have to give up this up when the sun rises, like some fucked up fairytale where Cinderella never gets the guy because she’s not worthy of it without the pretense.

“Could I get the house cocktail?” Spencer asks the bartender, flashing a smile at her with the giddiness of knowing he will return to her.

Spencer had nearly forgotten that part of the reason he was here was because of Josh.

Who is at the bar.

“Hey man- you’re the dude she brought, right?”

Josh is actually about 2 inches shorter than Spencer, and Spencer makes the most of this difference. He’s a broad chested muscle man, but he looks woefully underwhelming.

“Yeah, I’m the lucky guy.” Spencer replies in a deadpan tone, turning to face him with a stony expression.

“Careful, man,” Josh says, and it’s a little pathetic how he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care, “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

��Really? Because it seems like you’d leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.”

“Whatever, dude. It’s clear that she just brought someone to make me jealous.”

“Actually, while I can’t read her mind, I imagine you’ve slipped hers entirely. Clearly your entire energy is based in whatever ego-driven shell your youth has shaped you into- and maybe one day someone will care enough about whatever tragedy made you the way you are, but I am deeply uninterested, and I’d wager she is too.”

He’s not sure if this is true, but Spencer’s noticed that in the time since their ruse has begun she hasn’t mentioned Josh. Not once. She might not love Spencer, but she might not see Josh anymore.

“Also, if you ever speak disrespectfully of my girlfriend again I promise you it will not end well for you.”

His voice is even and has an underlaying of quiet rage. It’s wonderful to call her that, even more so as she enters into his eye line.

“You looked mad,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her nimble arms wrapping around his waist with fluid ease, “Is everything okay?”

It’s only then she sees Josh, and there’s something wonderful about knowing that she came here to check on him. Josh is about to say something, he can tell even though he’s only visible in the corner of his vision.

It’s a calculated risk but he chooses to do it anyway.

When he kisses her, he doesn’t know what to expect. It falls into line like puzzles into place, one of her hands falling to his waist and the other cradling his jaw with a delicate softness. She leans into him totally and this is an intoxicating feeling- her lips are so, so soft and it’s what he’s been fantasizing about since she first smiled at him and asked him to keep going when he was rambling about Russian literature.

It’s actually better.

When she pulls back, she scans the space. Josh is gone.

“Well that had the intended effect,” he says- it seems better than anything else, like confessing that the only reason he did it was that he could. He kissed her.

She nods, clearly a bit frazzled, and fuck-

“I should have asked, fuck, I’m sorry-“

“No, no, you’re okay, um-thanks for getting rid of him.”

Her voice is hollow.

Despite the awkwardness of the kiss, which Spencer cannot stop thinking about.

Did he imagine it, or did she lean in? Did she sigh into it? How is he going to ever get over the fact that he’s never going to do that again?

Her lipstick is grape flavored. Now they both know that.

They get back to the hotel at half past midnight, and she’d been a little distanced- not so much they still didn’t look like a couple, but enough that Spencer knows. They’re winding down the artificial love affair, and all of the things he’s become kind of addicted to are going to go away. Her fingers running through the tendrils of his hair, her delicate fingers rubbing tiger balm on his temples when he’s got his migraines. Her cheek kisses, the honeys, my loves, sweethearts.

Kissing her.

When she drops her bag on the hotel bed and sits on the edge of it, he sits next to her. She’s been quieter, since the kiss.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” she replies, bumping her knee with his in fondness.

“I’m sorry I surprised you with, you know.”

“Kissing me?”

“I should have asked- I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset that you kissed me,” she says, looking down at her shoes, “I’m upset that you only did it because you wanted to spite Josh.”

“What?”

“I know that this is my problem, Spence,” she says, “You never… led me on, you know? I know that this was always my thing to deal with. Being in love with you was never something that I thought would be a problem. But when you offered to go with me- to pretend to be my boyfriend, how could I pass that up?”

This makes no sense.

“I know,” she runs her fingers through her hair in a frustrated motion, “I know that it was never a good idea. But the idea of getting to be with you was just too much to turn down, even it it wasn’t the real thing. And now we’re going back to normal and I promise that I will go back to being your friend. It might take me a second, though-I might need some space.”

She needs space from him? Because she can’t transition away from being his fake girlfriend?

“You don’t need space from me.”

He’s so fucking bad at talking.

“Spencer-“

“No, no,” because now he has a shot- now there’s a reality where the pit in his chest doesn’t have to live there forever. He can be with her. Because for some crazy, insane reason, she wants him. “You don’t need space from because I don’t want space from you, okay?”

He sits next to her on the bed, eyes a little crazed with want with nowhere to go.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Her voice is tempered, and he thinks he hears hope.

“I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I’ve known you,” he grabs her hand-it feels desperate to say and he sure he sounds it, “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to spite him. I did it because I couldn’t live with the idea that I would spend the rest of my life never have kissed you.”

He probably would say more- so many things are coming to mind, most of which are pleading. She’s the only thing he’s ever wanted this much. Before he gets to, though, she kisses him.

It’s sudden, as all things of this nature are, but he pulls her close on instinct. She ends up on his lap, her hands around his neck, and it is so rare that fantasy lives up to reality. But this is better, the feeling of the weight of her pressed against him and the taste of her grape lipstick.

It’s a minute when she pulls back, and it takes everything to not chase the contact.

“I love you too,” she says, the sweetness of it dripping from the sound of it. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again.

“For real?”

“For real.”

When the run rises in the morning that follows, he’s wrapped around the length of her like a vice, right and close to him, Her head rests on his chest, and while there is another bed there, it’s clearly not seeing any use.

He’s never slept better in his life.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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bearforcecaptions · 6 days ago

Text

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

#male transformation #theme: possession

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seneon · 10 months ago

Note

Can you make Mash x female reader please.

That when Finn and the other want to know why Mash doesn't love lemon like she do to him. And they got answer from Mash that because he protect reader love

sink into each other ──── mash burnedead x fem! reader.

about. mash actually has a lover, and his friends are to find out about it very soon. | 560+ words. fluffy romantic.

notes. if mash don't want lemon i'll have her tyvm

mash burnedead does not return lemon irvine's feelings. how so and why? though the girl doesn't mind that he does not return her feelings back, she promised to always be by mash's side.

she might be oblivious that he does not like her back, but finn and dot could easily tell that mash is not someone of romantical feelings. lance is always suspicious of mash, his mind telling him that there is at least one female that he has had a crush on before. it is impossible that there is none.

to everyone else, they could tell that lemon's efforts of trying to open up mash's heart and at least rent a day or two is impossible. there was never a possibility in the first place. and they felt bad for the girl who tries her hardest to impress or seduce mash.

there was one odd day, where mash is oddly missing from classes. the last time anyone has ever seen him was finn, which mash was eating two cream puffs. he noticed there was a bento wrapped in a very beautiful wine red cloth.

so finn told his friends about the beautifully clothed bento box. and they started sharing suspicions with each other. but nothing came to mind. there was nothing that could date back to mash even owning a fancy piece of cloth. they didn't want to simply suspect him either.

that is, when lance's suspicions came true.

he was walking through the corridors beside the garden and caught a sight at the corner of his eyes. upon having high principals, his curiosity overtook him and he went to poke his nose into the scene.

shock immediately arise, lance's jaw dropping as far as they could. metaphorically, it dropped to the ground, eyes widened until they might fall out. right in front of him, was a scene of his beloved rival and friend wrapping his arms around a student who is dressed in lang's uniform.

when that student broke the hug, it shocked lance even more. with beautiful hair and beautiful eyes that stared into mash's honey ones. she smiled widely and adding more shock to the crown, mash smiled back, although tiny and barely visible. yet it was enough for lance to understand the scenario.

"w-whaaaaat..!" a voice beside lance said in pure shock too, as lance looked beside to find finn's jaw dropped to the ground. "that's what the fancy bento is for??"

lance looked at the two, noticing the girl's hands that held a bento, a box wrapped in cream puff cloth. then to mash, who held the said bento with fancy wrapping.

very soon, you and mash exchanged bento boxes. the burnedead then embraced you in a hug, allowing your body to sink into his. just like that, both bodies were sinking into each other as each second passed.

you are a mage from a prestigious family with two lines on your face. it would only make sense if you sensed two other mages watching you. so in the hug, you slowly slid your through mash's coat and shoot a little spell from your fingers at lance and finn.

"mash, your friends have come to find you."

there was no hiding your relationship with mash anymore. and mash's friends now understand why he doesn't return her feelings to lemon, for mash burnedead already has someone to lean on.

#﹙🗝️ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐰𝐫𝖎𝐭𝖎𝐧𝐠﹚#mash #mash burnedead #mash x reader #mashle #mashle x reader #mashle magic and muscles #mashle imagines #lance crown #finn ames #dot barrett #lemon irvine

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dazzlingjaeyun · 1 month ago

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

bestfriend!jay x fem!reader

genre: friends to lovers, fake dating, fluff & a tiny bit of angst <3

warnings: mentions of food, skinship, curse words, a tiny bit suggestive at some points

word count: 5.7k

a/n: short mention of &team's nicholas for the sake of the plot; he can literally be read as any other guy, i just needed another name lol

a/n²: i know this is the second f2l au i've written about jay but i just can't help it (we all need best friend jay in our lives) (╥﹏╥)

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍�� ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

you were just about to settle down on the sofa next to jay for your usual friday night movie marathon when you heard a low groan escape his lips. his hand was tangled in his hair, frustration evident on his furrowed brows as he stared intently at his phone screen.

“someone’s not excited about movie night?” you teased. “i promise, i’m not making you rewatch finding nemo for the tenth time!”

your best friend shot you a glare, clearly not in the mood for your humor. “it’s not the movie night, idiot,” he said with a low voice. “i have to go back home for family dinner tomorrow…” he explained.

your amused expression shifted to one of confusion. “what’s so bad about that?” you asked.

after all, his family was insanely sweet, and the food was immaculate. you knew that from years of friendship. ever since the two of you had become friends some time in high school, you’d always looked forward to being at his place – specifically when you knew there would be food. and there’d always be food, both of his parents being not only skilled cooks but also very passionate about it. luckily, these traits rubbed off on jay, so now, after you both had left your hometown for college and decided to move in together for the sake of sharing rent, you had your own personal chef.

“nothing usually… but they haven’t stopped asking about my love life ever since we moved here, and it’s so annoying,” he whined, throwing his head back into the cushions of the sofa in frustration. “my mom keeps on asking; i swear she’ll set me up with a random girl if i don’t show up with a girlfriend in the next two months.”

you put your lips together tightly, trying not to laugh at his words. he noticed despite your effort to hide it and took the nearest pillow to throw it at you. “it’s not funny! they just don’t stop.” the tone of his voice grew more desperate.

you successfully dodged the pillow, letting out a small chuckle. “well, why don’t you just tell them that you’re not into girls?” you asked, breaking out in laughter as you saw the bewildered expression on his face. “you’re a terrible friend; you’re no help at all!” he complained, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

your laughter died down soon after, and you looked at him with a more sincere expression. “no, but i’m serious, jay. just tell them that you’re not looking for anything right now. you’re focusing on college, and you’re doing well… and that’s what they’d want for you, after all.”

he sighed. “yeah, no. i tried, but they just don’t stop asking.”

you hummed, thinking about how to help him out of the constant questions. “i mean… it’s not like you haven’t gotten to know any girls,” you started, remembering some nights that he’d asked you to stay over at a friend’s house, or you cursing him for waking you up in the middle of the night when he was busy with a girl next door to your room. “you can tell them you just haven’t found the right one yet. you wouldn’t even lie.”

before he could reply, you blurted out the next idea that came to your mind. ��or just ask one of them to join you?”

he shook his head without hesitation. “no way in hell, that would be so awkward. i cannot appear with a girl who i know nothing of and pretend to be her boyfriend? they’ll catch on immediately,” he protested. “besides, i don’t even have the numbers for half of them.”

you raised an eyebrow, looking at him in surprise. he wasn’t the type to fool around, and you knew he hadn’t been with too many girls, but it still surprised you – you wouldn’t have thought your best friend since high school turned out to be this type of person after all.

"you’re terrible, jay,” you laughed.

silence stretched between you for a while. jay’s forehead wrinkled, showing he was deep in thought, before he suddenly looked at you with an expression you didn’t quite understand.

“stop looking at me like that; you’re scaring me,” you said, half joking, half serious.

“you could help me,” he blurted out, before even processing his own thought.

“i already gave you all my ideas,” you replied.

“no, i mean…” he paused as if searching for the right words, “you can pretend to be my girlfriend.”

your eyes widened at his suggestion, the air getting stuck in your throat, forcing you to choke out a cough. “what the fuck?”

“doesn’t it make sense? i mean… i know you, so it won’t be hard to answer any questions. they won’t even ask many. we’re not awkward around each other, and you also know my family, so it won’t be weird either,” he explained, but you shook your head.

“they know me as your friend, jay. and besides that, how the hell do you want to explain it to them once you found a real girlfriend? you’ll just tell them we went back to being friends? or you’ll lie to them and say we ended the friendship too? for the rest of your life? it’s just complicating things much more,” you protested.

another sigh came from his lips. “i don’t know either, but can’t we figure that out later?” he looked at you with a pleading look – one you usually couldn’t resist.

“no,” you crossed your arms, “as your best friend, i have to stop you from making dumb decisions… and there’s nothing in it for me either way so–”

“a month of free coffee,” jay interrupted you quickly, and as you raised an eyebrow, he corrected himself, “two. two months.”

you squinted your eyes as if thinking about his offer.

“and i’ll cook and do the dishes for the next two weeks. please, y/n,” he pouted, which drew a sigh from you.

“fine,” you agreed after some time, “but don’t make it weird. only in front of your family. and don’t you dare kiss me!” you said, a playful disgust in your voice.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as it was time to get ready for the family dinner, you rummaged through your closet, feeling a wave of panic wash over you. “what am i going to wear?” you muttered, tossing clothes aside like they were useless scraps. you felt the pressure of the evening ahead, the weight of pretending to be jay’s girlfriend pressing down on you.

“relax, y/n. it’s not a big deal,” jay said, leaning against your doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile on his face. “you’ve been to my house a million times.”

“yeah, but this time it’s different. it’s not just a casual hangout. they’re gonna think we’re dating,” you replied, running a hand through your hair, which had suddenly become a tangled mess from all your fidgeting.

“so what? just wear something you’re comfortable in. trust me, my mom just wants to see you,” he reassured you, stepping into your room to help. “how about that blue dress? it always looks great on you.”

you paused, glancing at the dress hanging in your closet. “i don’t know… it might be too much.”

“it’s perfect,” he insisted, plucking it off the hanger and holding it up to you. “just put it on. and besides, you want to impress my mom, right?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile at his playful tone. “fine, but if i look ridiculous, you’re the one who picked it out.”

after a few moments of back-and-forth, you finally slipped into the dress while jay waited outside your door. when you stepped out, you saw his eyes widen slightly. “wow, you look amazing,” he said genuinely, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “like, really amazing.”

“thanks,” you replied shyly, feeling butterflies start to swirl in your stomach, before you forced them to die down. “but now i need to do something with my hair.”

“don’t stress about it. you can just leave it down. it looks great that way,” he said with a casual wave of his hand, but you could tell he meant it, so you left your hair and instead busied yourself with a quick makeup touch-up, trying to ignore the fluttering nerves that came with his soft remarks.

when jay was driving to your hometown, the familiar sights began to flash by the window, memories flooding your mind. the drive was a bit long, but it was filled with easy conversation and laughter, although tension simmered just beneath the surface.

“you sure you’re okay?” jay asked as he glanced at you.

“yeah, just… nervous,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“you’ll be fine. you know my family loves you. just act like you always do. they won’t suspect a thing.”

as he pulled into the driveway, you could see the warm glow of the porch lights illuminating his family’s home. jay parked the car, and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come.

when you stepped inside, jay’s mom was already in the hallway, a huge smile spreading across her face. “y/n! it’s so good to see you! it’s been a while, come here!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. you felt the warmth of her embrace wash away some of your nerves.

“hi, mrs. park,” you replied, grinning as she stepped back, looking you up and down.

“but why did jay bring you? is everything okay?” she asked, a hint of concern lacing her words.

you shot him a nervous glance. “did you not inform her beforehand?” you whispered.

“uh, well…” jay interjected, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “actually, mom, i brought her as a surprise. we’re dating now.” he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, a confident smile on his face as he glanced between you and his mother.

you felt your heart race, the sudden admission leaving you momentarily speechless. you shot him a look of uncertainty, but he just shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“oh, that’s wonderful!” she said, her expression brightening. “i’m so happy for you two!” she clapped her hands together excitedly, and you could see the genuine joy in her eyes. “you know, i always thought you might end up together… ah, you two make such a cute match!” she brought her hand up to softly squeeze jay’s cheek between her thumb and index finger. your heart dropped just slightly at her happy demeanor; guilt creeping up on you for lying to her.

after you went inside and greeted jay’s dad, you helped his mom to set the table, feeling more at ease with each passing moment. you chatted with her about various things – college, work, the food she was preparing – anything to keep the atmosphere light.

jay hovered close, keeping his hand on your waist as you moved around, grounding you as you tried to navigate the situation. every touch sent a rush of goosebumps down your skin, but you quickly brushed it off. it felt strangely natural, though, and you could see how easily he seemed to slip into this role.

“you’re really great with my parents,” he whispered as you stood by the kitchen island, layering plates with napkins. you glanced up, meeting his gaze and feeling the warmth radiate from him.

“thanks, jay. you know i love your family,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but for a strange reason, your heart was racing.

a few minutes later, as you helped jay’s mother to bring the dishes to the table, you overheard jay talking to his dad. “she’s just incredible, dad,” he said, and you couldn’t help but catch the hint of pride in his voice. “she’s smart, funny, and just gets me.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, your heart fluttering at his words – especially because he had said them when you weren’t even in the room. it was a little embarrassing, but in a good way. yet, you tried to shove the feeling aside, sitting down to start eating.

“so, how long have you two been dating?” his dad asked, looking between you and jay, a curious glint in his eyes.

“about two months,” jay replied casually, but you could see the slight tension in his shoulders.

“why didn’t you tell us sooner?” his dad pressed, an amused smile playing on his lips.

jay shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “i just wanted to make sure everything worked out before telling you. didn’t want to jump the gun.”

you glanced at him, appreciating how easily the lies slipped over his lips, until a pang of guilt hit you again. it felt wrong to be lying to his parents, who seemed so genuinely happy for the both of you.

throughout and even after dinner, as the conversation still flowed, jay’s hand remained on your thigh, and you felt the tension in your body slowly dissipate. jay felt good to have you close to him, the touches coming naturally, without him having to think about it. he loved how you felt against him – the way your body fit perfectly by his side.

you caught him glancing at you with a soft expression, and for a brief moment, it felt like you shared a silent understanding. it didn’t feel as weird as you thought it would; instead, it felt oddly comfortable, just a little more domestic than usual. maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

a few days after dinner – things had returned to normal between you two – you found yourself sitting in the small kitchen of your shared apartment. you sat across from each other, quietly sipping the coffee jay had bought, as he promised, both of you occupied with your phones rather than talking.

suddenly, a loud ringtone broke the silence, startling you. you glanced at jay, who briefly met your gaze before answering his phone.

"what's up, ki?" he asked.

"is y/n with you?" you could make out riki’s voice on the other end. jay raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"yeah, why? let me know if i need to step out, in case you're gonna say something gross," he teased.

"no, actually put me on speaker," riki instructed. after jay signaled he had done so, riki continued, "you two are so fake. first, you come back home for a day without saying a single word about it, and now you're dating?"

your eyes widened in shock, turning to jay with a hundred of questions written over your face.

"what do you mea–" jay began, but riki cut him off.

"bro, your mom asked me how long we’ve known you’re together."

it suddenly clicked. riki had grown close to jay’s parents too. after leaving his home country without his parents, and befriending jay at school, they had taken him under their wing, ensuring he was looked after, fed, and had a place to spend the holidays when he couldn’t return to japan.

"you two better get your asses here next weekend and explain. the others already know," riki said, hanging up before either of you could respond.

there was a silence between the both of you, yet it was so heavy with unspoken words, both of you knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

“we’re fucked,” you broke the silence, eyes still fixated on the phone in the middle of the table.

jay let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his chair. “my mom being nosy as always and riki’s big mouth didn’t help either.”

“should we tell them that we faked it to get your parents off your back? they’ll never leave us alone. plus, riki can't lie to your parents if his life depended on it. they'll catch on immediately,” you said, your frustration evident as you brought your fingers up to massage your temples.

“exactly,” jay muttered, staring at the floor.

you rubbed your temples harder, feeling a headache coming on. “so, now what? we’re screwed either way.”

jay hesitated, his eyes narrowing in thought. “what if… we just go along with it for now? let them think we’re dating.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “you’re kidding, right? we can’t keep up this act with our friends.”

“no, hear me out,” jay said quickly, leaning forward. “if we pretend for a while, they’ll lose interest eventually. it’ll be easier to ‘break up’ later when it’s not fresh gossip. less drama that way, no?”

“fake dating in front of our friends?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “jay, this is a terrible idea.”

“yeah, but what’s our other option? tell them the truth and get mocked for the next five years? and having to explain the lie to my parents?” he asked, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow. “at least this way, we have control over the story.”

you bit your lip, considering his words. “and then we just… ‘break up’ when it feels right?”

jay nodded. “yeah. we’ll keep it simple, no big gestures or anything. and whenever the time comes, we ‘end it’.”

“and go back to casually hanging out with them how?” you questioned.

jay stayed silent for a while, but only shrugged when he couldn’t find an answer. “i don’t know, we’ll figure that out when it’s time.”

you exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “fine,” you said reluctantly. “but this better not get any weirder than it already is.”

“deal,” jay said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “we’ve got this.”

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the next few days after riki’s call were filled with tension. you and jay had barely discussed the fake dating plan beyond a few vague strategies, but as the weekend loomed, the reality of keeping up appearances with your friends started to weigh on both of you. that afternoon, you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, adjusting your shirt nervously while jay lingered near the door, arms crossed and expression thoughtful.

“are we really going through with this?” you asked, glancing over at him. there was a hint of hesitation in your voice, the weight of pretending gnawing at you.

jay met your gaze, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile, though his own unease was clear. “it’ll be fine,” he said softly. “we’ll just play it cool. stick to the plan, that’s it.”

you let out a deep breath, nodding slowly. “yeah…”

he chuckled lightly, moving closer to offer a comforting squeeze to your shoulder. “we’ve got this. it’ll be over before we know it.” with one last shared look of uncertainty, you both headed out the door, ready to sell the lie.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the familiar neighborhood, you found your friends sitting in a booth at your favorite diner. the place was bustling, the air thick with laughter and the smell of food. it felt nostalgic, like slipping on an old sweater you hadn’t worn in ages.

the six guys were already teasing each other, their easy banter filling the space as they welcomed you and jay.

“look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!” heeseung exclaimed, a playful grin stretching across his face. “and look at you two, all cozy and couple-y. what’s up with that?”

you shot a glance at jay, who merely smirked, intertwining his fingers with yours under the table.

“just trying to make it official,” he replied, the mischief in his eyes evident.

“official? since when?” sunoo chimed in, raising an eyebrow as if riki hadn’t told them the entire story already. “you guys just moved in together, and now you’re dating? what’s the story?”

“oh, come on. it’s not that complicated,” jay said, casually shrugging his shoulders. “we decided it was time to take things to the next level. right, babe?”

your heart dropped slightly at the nickname, but you decided to play it cool. you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile as you squeezed his hand back. “sure, let’s go with that,” you replied, playing along.

“i knew it! this was all just part of the plan to share rent, wasn’t it?” sunghoon teased, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “just to save on bills?”

“classic jay,” jungwon laughed. “moving in and immediately jumping into a relationship. what a move!”

“that’s not all he jumped into,” jake quipped, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “so you broke the promise you made to her about no funny business!”

“hey! that’s not what happened!” jay shot back, a mix of amusement and embarrassment creeping into his tone. “we just figured it made more sense to have someone to… keep me grounded, you know?”

“sure, sure. whatever helps you sleep at night,” riki teased, a playful smirk plastered on his face. “but seriously, how did this whole thing start? was it an ‘oops, i guess we’re dating now’ moment?”

you couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the easy-going atmosphere easing the tension from earlier. “more like a ‘you got caught making googly eyes at each other’ moment,” heeseung chimed in, and you felt your cheeks flush.

“okay, okay, back off! enough,” you defended playfully, and jay chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying the light-hearted teasing.

but then, as the conversation flowed, sunoo leaned forward, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “so, y/n… i thought you were seeing that other guy. you know, the one before jay? what happened with him?”

you felt a shift in the air, the teasing laughter fading slightly. you caught jay tensing beside you, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. “oh, uh, he was… nice?” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual, but your heart raced as you sensed the subtle change in jay's mood.

“nice? that’s it? what happened?” jungwon pressed, his curiosity piqued.

“just… didn’t work out,” you said quickly, wanting to avoid any deeper conversation. he hadn’t been nice exactly. but luckily it had taken you only three dates to understand his intentions weren’t exactly good, and you could cut him off before things started to get more complicated.

“probably because she was just waiting for me to swoop in,” jay added, his voice light, but you noticed the edge to it. the banter continued, but you could feel the tension hanging in the air, especially from jay. when the dinner wrapped up, and everyone dispersed into their own conversations, you felt jay lean just a little closer to you.

once you were both in the car heading back home, the mood was quieter, more contemplative than on your way there. jay’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel, and a silence settled between you.

“what’s wrong?” you finally asked, glancing at him.

“nothing,” he replied, a bit too quickly.

you thought back to the dinner, remembering how his mood shifted when the other guy was mentioned. “jay, you were tense when they brought him up,” you pointed out gently.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, a habit of his when he was stressed. “i just had to act jealous, that’s all,” he said, his voice lacking the usual ease.

“then why are you still tense?” you pressed, curiosity bubbling in your chest.

he glanced at you, a flicker of something passing through his eyes before he focused back on the road. “i’m still your best friend, y/n. it’s just… i don’t like that some guy didn’t treat you right,” he admitted, his tone steady but slightly strained. you had told him about it. after all, he had been the one to pick you up from the disastrous third date before things could get any worse.

the admission made your heart swell a little, but you could sense the underlying tension lingering between you. it was a mix of familiarity and something else – something unspoken that neither of you dared to explore just yet.

you both fell into silence again, but this time it felt different. you could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, an invisible thread binding you both a little closer as you drove through the night.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as the weeks went by, the lines between pretending and reality seemed to blur. each time you met jay’s parents, you found yourselves slipping effortlessly into the roles of a couple. laughter and light teasing accompanied every shared meal, and you could almost forget that this was all an act – until you caught jay’s mother gazing at you with such warmth that it made your heart ache.

it was the same when you hung out with your friends; you’d find yourself nestled against jay on the couch, feigning casual intimacy, but the warmth of his body next to yours sent butterflies racing in your stomach.

video calls with them were no different. the moments where you’d curl into him, your head resting on his shoulder while your friends joked and teased, felt increasingly real. you both pretended not to notice the way your cheeks flushed when he’d casually drape an arm around you or whisper something sweet in your ear. there were times when you’d catch his gaze lingering on you, filled with something you couldn’t quite make out, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

jay often replayed moments in his head – like the way you lit up when he surprised you with yet another coffee (although the two months deal had long passed) or how your laughter could fill the room and make his chest feel lighter. these were the times when it was hard for him to remember that you weren’t really together. there was an undeniable chemistry, an easy intimacy that felt so natural, yet he couldn't shake the underlying sadness that came with it. pretending to be a couple seemed to slowly but surely blur the lines of your friendship, and he found himself wrestling with the fear of losing you entirely.

at times, when you’d catch him looking at you, a shy smile would spread across your face, and for a brief moment, he would allow himself to entertain the thought that maybe this wasn’t just an act. maybe, just maybe, you felt the same warmth he did. but as quickly as that thought came, he would shake it off. after all, you were his best friend, and the last thing he wanted was to risk that by crossing a line that was better left uncrossed.

still, whenever you both met his parents, he felt an ache in his chest when he saw the way they treated you – like you were already part of the family. it was a bittersweet reminder of how perfect everything could be if you weren’t pretending. he couldn’t help but picture what it would be like if you really were together, how natural and easy it would feel to call you his girlfriend in front of his parents, to wrap his arms around you without feeling like he was crossing a boundary. the thought left him a bit melancholic, yet he pushed it aside, convincing himself that it was just a game you both were playing.

after hanging up from yet another video call with riki, a comfortable silence enveloped you both as you lay in your bed, your head resting on jay's chest. the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat was soothing, and you savored the warmth that came from being so close. the laughter from the call lingered in the air, but now it felt distant, like a dream fading into the morning light.

as you stared at the ceiling, your phone lit up beside you, a notification interrupting the moment. glancing over, you noticed a message from nicholas. he was a classmate, nothing significant. you couldn’t even really say that he was a friend – just someone to talk to when you felt the weight of everything pressing down on you. you hadn’t planned on meeting up with him; you just needed some distraction from your swirling thoughts and emotions.

“who’s nicholas?” jay asked, his voice breaking the silence. you could sense a slight tension in his tone, though he tried to keep it light.

“just a guy from college,” you replied casually, though you felt a twinge of guilt. there was something in the way he said the name that made you realize he was a bit protective. maybe even jealous?

“are you... are you guys close?” he pressed, turning slightly to glance at your phone. his stomach twisted with an unspoken insecurity, but he tried to mask it, keeping his expression neutral.

“not really. we just text sometimes,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

“just texting?” he echoed, a hint of skepticism in his voice. you could tell he wanted to know more, but you didn’t want to open that door.

“it’s just distraction, okay?” you finally admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“distraction from what?” he asked, confusion knitting his brows together. the unease in his chest only grew as he studied your face, searching for answers.

you hesitated, your heart racing at the prospect of being vulnerable. “it’s nothing,” you replied.

“c’mon, y/n. you can’t just say that,” he urged, propping himself up on one elbow to face you more directly. “what do you need distraction from?”

the question hung in the air, heavy and charged. you felt tears welling up in your eyes, and a lump formed in your throat. “i… i don’t want to talk about it,” you managed to whisper, fighting the emotion that threatened to spill over.

“y/n, please,” he said gently, concern etched across his features. “just tell me what’s going on.”

the tears finally began to fall, and you couldn’t hold back the hurt any longer. “i want distraction from you, okay?” you blurted out, your voice breaking.

his heart dropped at your admission, and for a moment, he felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. “from me? why? what did i do wrong?” the vulnerability in his voice surprised even him, and he hated how desperate he sounded.

the sight of your tears broke him a little, and he felt a mixture of anger and fear. he wanted to pull you close and wipe away your tears, but he felt paralyzed by your words. “you’re hurting, and i don’t want to be the reason for that.”

“you’re not the reason,” you said softly, but the cracks in your voice betrayed you. “it’s just… everything feels too intense. i can’t pretend anymore, jay. i want to stop this whole fake-dating thing.”

panic surged through him. stop? his mind raced, but he forced himself to remain composed. “why? what do you mean?” he asked, his voice steady, though he felt like he was on shaky ground.

“why?” you echoed, taking a deep breath, your heart pounding. “because i feel more than i should, and it’s scary. i need to get myself together.”

the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. “more than you should?” he repeated, a mix of fear and hope igniting in his chest. “y/n, are you saying you have feelings for me?”

you looked away, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded reluctantly. “but i’ll get myself together, i… i just need space.”

jay’s heart sank further, torn between the relief of knowing your feelings mirrored his own and the dread of losing you. he took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. “i don’t want to lose you, y/n. please don’t do this.”

you shook your head. “you won’t lose me. but you have to understand,” you said, your voice trembling. “if we stop now, i can get a grip on everything. i promise i’ll figure myself out. just... just give me that space.”

he felt a rush of emotions – fear, sadness, longing – but as he looked into your tear-filled eyes, he knew he had to be honest. “i… i feel it too. this isn’t just an act for me anymore.”

your eyes widened slightly, surprise mixing with your heartache. “you do?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i do. and that’s why i don’t want to stop. i’m scared of what that means for us, but i can’t just let go.”

you saw the fear in his eyes – the fear of losing you, of losing everything you had built together.

“or…what if… what if we stopped pretending, but instead made it real?”

your brow furrowed in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“let’s take things slow. we can still be together, but we don’t have to rush into anything. we can experience it step by step.”

you hesitated, the thought both exciting and terrifying. “but what about our friendship? what if it ruins everything?”

“i’m still your best friend, y/n. i'll always be,” he reassured you, his gaze steady and sincere. “if we both have feelings for each other, why should we both suffer and shut them down?”

his words settled in the air, and you felt a warmth spreading through you, despite the tears still glistening in your eyes. “you really think we can handle it?” you asked, a flicker of hope igniting within you.

“i know we can,” he replied, his voice softening.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

a week later, you found yourself back in the familiar booth at the diner, enveloped by its nostalgic aroma and your friends' chaotic energy. “what’s going on with you two today?” sunoo asked curiously, popping a fry into his mouth. “you both look happier than usual. any good news to share?”

“yeah, it’s almost sickening how cute you are,” riki chimed in, pretending to gag dramatically. both, you and jay couldn't help but chuckle at his antics.

“no, seriously, what’s up with you guys?” jake dug deeper, a playful smirk on his lips. you rolled your eyes before turning to jay, sharing a knowing glance.

“ guys, let them be,” jungwon defended. “why don’t we all focus a little more on our own lives, hm?” he exchanged a quick smile with you and jay, and soon everyone returned to their usual conversations.

jay leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing against your ear, before he whispered, “it’s worth ruining the friendship, don’t you think?”

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

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drewsbraziliangf · 27 days ago

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don’t try this at home | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: no one never tells you how much a broken heart hurts. how you feel like you could die from how much pain it causes you and dealing with it mostly alone serves as a constant reminder of what life could've been.

a/n: Here’s part 2 of nothing to say when heaven falls, heavily inspired by ‘in the kitchen’ by Renee Rapp. I want to thank you all sooooo much for the love on the first part I’m still taking it all in💖

dividers: @/saradika-graphics

It had been seven months since the both of you broke up - more like you decided to call it all off and he just watched.

A part of you felt broken beyond repair. It felt like everywhere you looked you could see his stupid blue eyes and damned smile. As if your brain couldn't cope with his absence anymore and began to force you to picture him everywhere you went. Wether it was in someone holding the door for you, a stranger complimenting your hair, a song on the radio that you knew he’d sing along as he drove. It felt like you were dancing with his ghost. Like life happened around you but you were stuck in the kitchen where you last saw him. It was just you and the bittersweet memories.

You never knew how his family took the news of your break up, Brooke was the one who reached out to you and said that she was sorry things had happened that way. But after that everything was radio silent and you preferred it that way. It hurt less when the living reminders of him weren’t too keen on keeping up with your life anymore. They had no reason to do that anyway.

But nothing hurt more than when you began to call everything off with the contractors. The venue, the buffet, the band that would be playing, the decoration crew, photographers and wedding planners. That broke you because you could feel their pity through each and every single call. Like every time you dialed a number, the knife was piercing the open wound again.

It didn’t take long for you to move back into the apartment you rented before you had moved in with him. Slowly life was stable again. Wake up, walk in the park, work, diner, sleep. Repeat.

You also deleted most of your social media profiles and created brand new ones. You didn't want to think of how long until people realized that you were cutting online ties to any one connected to him and they started asking questions. You wanted to remain invisible at last.

Still that wasn't enough. Every other day when your best friend, Frankie, posted a picture or a video where you were in she would immediately tell you that he had liked it. Every time for the last month and a half. You didn't know if you liked to be informed of that or not, if you were honest.

Sometimes you hated yourself for leaving like you did, but in most days you asked yourself how you managed to stay that long? Of course you loved him and was one hundred percent ready to be with him in the long run, but the sudden dismiss of your relationship as soon as Odessa was in the picture was a real deal breaker. Even if you had tried to ignore and move past it, both of them seem to keep on pushing your buttons more and more.

Moving back to this apartment was a blessing and a curse. You were glad that the lender was a nice lady and accepted your application again. You loved the neighborhood and the neighbors, so you were relieved that this part you were able to recover.

Unlike the place you shared with Drew, this one barely had memories of him. So it was easy to ignore his absence in your home. The thought of your shared apartment brought a strange kind of pain to your heart. So many plans, memories and dreams that you for your future now sat alone. All of them waiting for a different kind of closure - one you weren’t sure they’d ever get.

There were pieces of furniture that used to decorate that address that you had brought with you. And on them you could feel him linger, like he was a ghost lurking by the corners waiting for you to acknowledge him again. You never did.

Weeks came and went as the breeze that passed by. None of them too significant. One failed date here and there, bar trips with Frankie, catching up with family members. Routine wasn’t hard to follow when you didn’t have anything else to focus on, it gave you a sense of normalcy. That’s how you found yourself sighing at your friends words on the speaker phone.

“Come on, it will be fun!” She points out, “And you might even find someone you’ll like.”

Frankie had been trying to convince you on the past few days to go to this party in a private club that she was invited and could take a plus one. You did enjoy going to some bars but clubs were never your scene, but you knew that with her insistence you’d end up caving in soon or late.

“Frankie, you know that I don’t enjoy this kind of things too much,” you argue as you serve yourself some pasta. “Besides, I have that presentation at work that I need to focus on.”

“That’s not coming up for another two weeks, I’m sure you can take one day to live. You’re young and gorgeous, you shouldn’t be locked up on a Friday night.”

You giggle at that. Ever since you told her what had happened with your previous relationship, she made it her mission to get you to meet as many guys as possible. Half of the times you managed to back out and the ones you did you’d find yourself under someone you were sure that you’d only see once.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You ask with a small sigh as you shake your head.

“Be ready by nine, hun.” She says, and you can clearly hear the excitement in her voice, and then she hangs up.

This was everything you didn’t know you needed. The sweaty bodies dancing on the main floor, loud chatter all around and the strong smell of alcohol surrounded you.

Everyone seemed pretty in sync with each other here and, as Frankie held your hand, the both of you headed to the bar. When you arrived, you realized that the both of you had a very different perception of what small was. This place had at least one hundred and twenty people in, all with different styles and ages.

Frankie was taller than you, with legs and a waist to die for. She drew attention anywhere she passed by with her long blonde hair, at work people called her a bombshell, since she did look like a modern version of Gisele Bündchen. You became friends not long after you moved to Connecticut. As it was closer to New York and your then fiancé, had many meetings and events in the city. Both of you working in a corporate position at one of the many offices that were spread downtown. As the two of you were closer in age, it didn’t take much for a friendship to blossom between you both.

“I’ll have two caipirinhas,” she said to the bartender with the cutest little accent.

At the name of the specific drink from your native country, you looked around and realized that the party was somewhat tropical themed, so having a drink that was heavy on lime and sugar made sense.

You were glad that your outfit wasn’t standing out too much. The skirt barely covered your behind, but somehow the soft fabric made you feel comfortable as it wasn’t clinging to your skin as a the leather option you tried earlier would. Summer was insanely hot this year and the less the better.

Once your drinks arrived, she handed you one and the both of you walked towards one of the empty seats a little far away from the bar.

Conversation between the two of you flew lightly and it was always good to talk with Frankie. She understood you in ways no one ever had, there was never judgment coming from her. Even when you broke down in front of her when your relationship ended. She was your family away from home.

She also felt confident in sharing with you her fears and struggles as a single mother. Her boyfriend had passed away a year and a half ago in an accident and left her with a little boy to raise. Hayden her pride and joy and you knew how hard she worked to provide him with the best there was. You were more than glad to help her whenever she needed, you loved the both of them endlessly.

As the hours passed by the party became more packed than it was when you arrived, now you could barely walk between the damp bodies. So that made your trip to the bar for new drinks twice as long.

The bartender acted on automatic as he took your order once more, and for a moment you felt bad for coming here again. So many voices and sounds around you that you questioned yourself how he was able to understand each order correctly.

You tapped your colored nails against the glass countered as you waited, trying not to focus too much on what was happening around you. And that was how you felt it before you’ve seen it.

The strong smell of a very specific cologne. You didn’t dare to turn your head as the smell flooded your senses, hopefully it would be just a coincidence, right? I mean, what are the chances?

But it seemed like you have zero support from the universe tonight because the voice ordering a Sazerac besides you was very familiar. Familiar as you had heard it groaning in your ear as your legs were wrapped around someone’s waist.

Fuck.

Was it too late for you to make an escape? Thankfully, the spot you and Frankie were sharing was to your left so you looked back in that directly only to see her wide eyes staring right back at you.

Fuck.

Where the hell was this bartender?

You looked ahead again and allowed your eyes to briefly look down to your right. That goddamned gold signet ring.

Fuck.

Suddenly you didn’t want to drink anymore. Not when you felt a very familiar gaze burning into you.

No escape.

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tumblrs a hoe and it wasn’t letting me tag some of y’all 🫠

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Hi!! I would like to request somn! (Twst)

I've been thinking, since early in the story the ramshackle dorm is rundown and old and basically abandoned

so what if MC/Yuu tried to sleep on their bed but ofc since its old it just breaks and hurts their back

so may i request to see if Ruggie, Azul and Idia (separated) would let MC/Yuu sleep with them on their bed? (romantic btw)

(or they can let them sleep on the FLOOR-)

Sharing a bed with Ruggie, Azul, Idia

I wanted to make them sleep on the floor just for giggles but I love the single bed trope too much to let it go. thanks for the request <3

You’d think after everything that had happened to you—being thrown into some magic-filled hellscape, dealing with literal monsters and chaotic students—that the universe would cut you a little slack. But no, apparently, even when you’re just trying to go to bed, Ramshackle Dorm has other plans.

You had just flopped onto your ancient, creaky bed, exhausted from a day of not dying, when—CRACK.

The bedframe split right down the middle, sending you crashing to the floor with the most undignified yelp you’d ever made. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how the universe hated you this much.

“Well. That’s just great,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your sore back. You tried to push the mattress back into place, but it was hopeless. The bed was dead. There was no fixing it tonight.

Which left you with only one option: find someone to share a bed with.

Ruggie Bucchi

You trudged to Ruggie’s dorm room, knocking on the door with the energy of someone who had been emotionally crushed along with their bed. The door creaked open to reveal Ruggie’s grinning face.

“Eh? What’re you doin’ here at this hour, huh?”

“My bed broke,” you deadpanned. “I need somewhere to crash.”

Ruggie blinked, then snorted. “The ghost bed finally gave up, huh? Figures.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny he had a point. “Can I sleep here or not?”

Ruggie grinned wider, obviously enjoying your misery. “Yeah, sure, come on in. But don’t expect me to give up the whole bed. I ain’t got much space.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll take a corner. Just… let me sleep.”

You climbed into his surprisingly cozy bed, and he made a big show of sprawling out, starfish-style, as if trying to take up every inch of space. “Comfy, huh?”

“Very,” you muttered sarcastically, but as you shifted to find a spot, you felt the warmth of his body near yours.

Somehow, as you drifted off to sleep, you both ended up gravitating closer, until you woke up in the middle of the night, realizing your head was resting on his chest.

Your eyes flew open, and you froze, realizing that you were completely snuggled up against him. And worse? He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his arm was draped around you, holding you close.

You blinked, heart racing. This was... actually kind of nice?

Ruggie stirred, blinking down at you with a sleepy grin. “Well, well. Cuddle monster, are ya?”

You wanted to die of embarrassment. “I didn’t—You—The bed—”

He just laughed softly. “Relax. Not so bad, huh?”

You hesitated, then sighed. “I guess not.”

“See? I’m always right.” He grinned, then gave you a gentle squeeze. “Now, go back to sleep, or I’m charging you rent for hoggin’ my warmth.”

Azul Ashengrotto

“Azul, I need to sleep in your room,” you announced the second he opened the door to Octavinelle.

Azul blinked, adjusting his glasses. “Excuse me?”

“My bed broke,” you said with all the exhaustion of a person who had given up on life. “And I need a place to sleep.”

Azul stared at you, clearly processing. “And… you’ve come to me? Of all people?”

You sighed, too tired for this. “Floyd’s a maniac, Jade will probably cook something weird at 2 a.m., so yes. I came to you.”

Azul pushed up his glasses, clearly flustered but trying to act composed. “Very well. But I must inform you that my quarters don’t have a spare bed. You will have to share mine.”

You blinked. “Fine. I’m too tired to care.”

Azul looked mildly scandalized, but he stepped aside, letting you in. His room was surprisingly neat, but there was only one bed—one very large, comfortable-looking bed. Without another word, you climbed in.

Azul hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons of sharing a bed with you, but eventually he slid in beside you, keeping a respectable distance.

At least, that was the plan.

You both woke up in the morning tangled in the sheets, Azul’s arm slung over your waist, your head resting on his shoulder.

Azul’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, very slowly, he looked down at you, eyes wide with confusion and panic. “I—this wasn’t—”

You blinked up at him, realizing just how close you were. “Uh… morning?”

Azul turned an alarming shade of red but didn’t move. In fact, his arm tightened just slightly. “This is… highly unprofessional,” he muttered, though he made no effort to pull away.

You snorted. “Yeah, sure. But it’s not so bad.”

Azul blinked at you, his panic melting into a soft, almost shy smile. “No… I suppose not.”

Idia Shroud

When you knocked on the door to Ignihyde, you half expected Idia to ignore you. But to your surprise, the door cracked open, revealing his glowing yellow eyes.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, eyes darting around nervously.

“My bed broke,” you said bluntly. “I need a place to crash.”

Idia blinked. “Uh… okay? But I don’t have a guest bed.”

You sighed. “That’s fine. I’ll take the floor.”

Idia looked even more nervous, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, well… it’s just me in here, so I guess you can… share mine?”

You stared at him for a moment, realizing what he was offering. “Sure. Why not.”

Idia nearly short-circuited at your casual response, but he let you in anyway, leading you to his surprisingly large bed. You both climbed in, and Idia immediately plastered himself to the very edge, leaving a wide gap between you.

“Y-you can have more space,” he mumbled, staring intently at the ceiling.

“Thanks,” you said, too tired to worry about the awkwardness. But as you both drifted off, the cold air of the room seemed to pull you closer, until, somewhere in the night, you ended up pressed against Idia’s side.

When you woke up, your head was resting on his chest, his arm slung loosely around you.

Idia’s hair flickered wildly when he realized where he was, his entire face turning bright red. “Wha��how—uh—what are you doing?!”

You groggily blinked up at him. “Sleeping?”

“I—I didn’t mean to—this wasn’t—” Idia was flustered beyond belief, but he made no move to untangle himself from you.

You smirked. “You’re warm. This isn’t so bad, you know.”

Idia blinked at you, his panic fading just a little. “R-really?”

You nodded, settling back against him. “Yeah. Kinda nice, actually.”

Idia’s hair flared bright pink for a moment, but then he relaxed, his arm resting a little more confidently around you. “O-okay. Just… don’t tell anyone.”

You grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia #idia shroud #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul #azul ashengrotto #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie #ruggie bucchi

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honeylations · 6 months ago

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KIM MINJEONG x FEM!READER

Prompt: you kept your pornstar job a secret from your curious roommate, but when an abrupt incident comes up a few minutes before filming, there was only one way to solve it

Warnings/Notes: pornstar reader, g!p Minjeong, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, dirty talking

“Jeongie~ I’m off to work now. There’s chicken in the fridge if you’re hungry”

Your roommate pauses the penguin documentary she’s watching on the big screen to sit up on the couch and pout. “You’re working again? It’s like you don’t want to spend time with me”

“Of course I want to spend time with you, Jeongie! But it’s important for me to work otherwise we wouldn’t be living in this amazing apartment!” You reasoned with jazz hands as a bonus.

“Oh speaking of apartment. I have my share for this week’s rent. Did you want me to send it through your bank details or cash?” Your adorable roommate asked with her phone ready in her hand but you waved it off.

“I’ll cover your rent this week. Don’t pay me back I swear to God”

“Again?! Y/n this is the 3rd week you’ve covered for me and I don’t feel nice about it”

You shrugged. “I just got a good pay”

“Right. A good pay. What job is this Y/n”

Checking the time on your watch, you pouted cutely at your roommate. “I’m gonna be late. See you later, love you!”

Minjeong sighed and sat back into the couch, very much lost in thought. What kind of high paying job were you exactly working at to be covering rent so easily?

“The hell do you mean Yunjin cancelled?!” You yelled at the director who was panicking just as much as you.

“Look, all she told me was that it was a personal emergency. We’ve tried calling Kazuha and Minji but both girls are busy with other schedules so unless you know someone that can fill in last minute, we’re postponing this until next week”

Just as the director started to walk away, a bulb flashed over your head. “W-Wait director-nim, I know someone…Give me a couple seconds to call her okay?”

“Make it quick Y/n. I’m booked today”

Fishing out your phone, you pressed on Minjeong’s contact and she answered quicker than expected. “J-Jeongie?”

“Hey Y/n, you never usually call during your shifts. Is everything okay?”

“Jeongie I really~ need your help with something but I can’t tell you what it is until you come here”

There was a short silence from the other line. “Uh…Okay? What’s your address?”

“I’ll message it after the call. Look your best”

Minjeong stared at her phone with confusion when you hung up. Look her best? Minjeong has little to no sense of fashion other than the millions of oversized flannels and cargo pants sitting in her closet.

Thankfully already showered, she simply put on a black and grey flannel with baggy jeans before checking the address you sent and driving her way over.

Moments later she was walking into the huge building, finding you on a set that looked like a bedroom, surrounded by unfamiliar faces.

“Y/n?” She questioned almost breathlessly once she realised you were only wearing a bathrobe.

“Jeongie! Thank you for coming. Now listen, I’ll cut this as short as I can because we don’t have much time, but I’m a pornstar, okay?”

“What?!”

“That’s why I’m loaded with money. The person that I was supposed to be filming with today cancelled on me and I couldn’t think of anyone else to replace her other than you”

Minjeong took a step back with wide eyes. “Nah uh, no way Y/n! What makes you think I’m good enough to film porn?!”

You quickly took her hands out of comfort. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot last second, but this is highly important to me Jeongie..” you pleaded and Minjeong couldn’t resist.

The taller girl stared into your eyes then the pout of your lips.

She let out a heavy sigh and squeezed your hands. “Fine. I’ll do it”

You squealed and jumped into a hug, peppering her face with kisses. “Thank you thank you thank you! You’re the best!”

“You owe me big time” Your roommate pointed a finger, making you giggle.

“Of course! Now head into that room with our staff. They’ll help you prepare”

In a blink of an eye, Minjeong was in her ‘costume’ (which was nothing but a black shirt and grey sweatpants) while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You wore a white camisole with no bra underneath and baby pink panties, standing in front of Minjeong with a big smile. “Hey you”

“I feel weird Y/n. I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore” She cutely mumbled, eyes darting across the room in fear.

Minjeong felt your small hands cup her face, forcing her to look at you. “Relax, baby. I’ll take good care of you I promise”

“W-What’s the storyline anyways”

“None actually. Just a wholesome home sex video”

“Whenever you’re ready Y/n” the director called out, making you nod.

Your hands rubbed gently at Minjeong’s nape and slowly going down to her shoulders for a reassuring squeeze.

“You can do whatever you want to me” you whispered against your friend’s lips and then closing the gap to get a proper taste.

You were surprised to feel Minjeong kiss back eagerly like an expert, even sliding her tongue in as she grabbed your hips and pulled you to sit on her lap.

For a couple minutes you two were sucking each others faces.

And the next minute you were sucking her surprisingly huge cock. She had your hair fisted in a make shift ponytail, throwing her head back when her tip rubbed at the back of your throat. “Fuck Y/n, I should’ve known you were a whore”

Oh? That was new.

Your so called innocent Minjeongie dirty talking? Your cunt clenched around nothing.

Minjeong forced you off her dick to pin you down on the bed, lightly pecking the hickies she had left around your neck and collarbones. “You got me so down bad, Y/n-ie. I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop having you like this”

Whimpering beneath her, you held onto her shoulders tightly. “Have me anytime you want Minjeongie”

“Ain’t that sweet of ya” She smirked as her eyes were fixed onto your glossy ones, confusing you slightly.

Then you felt the pleasurable stretch in your pussy when Minjeong’s cock welcomed itself inside, arching your back in the process. “What the fuck, Jeongie, you’re so big a-ahh!”

“The biggest you’ve ever had, darl?” Your roommate tilted her head, trying not to let your tightness get the best of her.

“Mhm the biggest!”

“Good. Then I’ll make sure your pussy is only made to take me”

You littered Minjeong’s back with scratches that started to bleed out, clearly seen from the camera crew which they zoomed in on. The pain didn’t bother Minjeong, not when she had started pounding into you mercilessly.

She licked her lips at your boobs bouncing with each thrust. She just couldn’t resist sucking on them like a baby, addicted to how sexy they looked when wet with her spit.

“Your pussy is sucking me in so fucking good, baby” Minjeong panted in your ear.

Then she felt a sudden warmth spray all over her lower body.

You were squirting while moaning Minjeong’s name, even reaching down to ferociously rub at your clit to ride out your mind blowing orgasm.

“F-Fuck that’s so hot, Y/n” Minjeong hissed, not planning to stop her hips even after you came.

“W-Wait Jeongie—AH!” You tried to stop her but she couldn’t care less about how sensitive you were.

She laid you on your stomach, bringing your ass up and going back to destroying your pussy, feeling herself go deeper with the new position.

“Fuck! Fuck Minjeong-ah! You’re gonna break me!” You sobbed into the pillow that you were drowning with drool.

Minjeong laid over your back and drilled impossibly deeper. “Fucking take it whore. I own this pussy now”

Then you felt a sudden sting on your shoulder blade, realising Minjeong was biting down into your skin. Not hard enough to bleed, but hard enough to leave a long lasting bruise.

“Y/n…hah Y/n, I’m gonna fucking cum…”

Your insides became hot from the cum she blew into your cunt and thankfully your roommate’s hips were coming to a stop.

“Shit…Fuck that was so good, Y/n. Thank you” Minjeong whispered in your ear, kissing it afterwards.

“CUT! This was probably the best one you’ve filmed Y/n! Great job!…Y/n?” The director called but was left with no answer.

Minjeong frowned and leaned further down to look at your face. “Y/n? He’s talking to you”

You were knocked out cold. Little snores and whimpers escaping your lips with Minjeong’s cock still inside your abused cunt. “Has this happened before?” Minjeong asked the staff, and they all shook their heads.

“No, never. You must’ve really fucked her good”

“O-Oh no, I’m sorry! W-What should I do?” Minjeong panicked and made sure she didn’t move so much as you slept below her.

“Wow, you’re very different to how you were on camera. I like it. Ever considered taking this as a full time job?”

Minjeong put a hand up, completely declining the offer. “Appreciate it, but I was only willing to do this for Y/n”

Director nodded and placed a finger on his chin. “Interesting. Hope Y/n brings you over more in the future. You two can rest there for a bit longer while we pack up”

The short hair girl nodded and pulled her cock out as slow and gently as she could to not wake you up. Then she laid you on her chest with the covers covering both bodies. “Can’t wait to do this with you again, Y/n” Minjeong smiled and kissed your head, letting the sleepiness take over her too.

#gxg #wlw #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #kim minjeong #minjeong smut #minjeong x reader

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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago

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june gloom - r.c.

(Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader, 4.5k words)

summary: After 8 beautiful months tangled up with the richest man on the island, your trist comes to a screeching hault when it's time for him to find a girl more suited to his lifestyle. Even though you tried to move on, a photo of a new girl on his arm sends you both into a spiral that ends with him back in your bed.

content: angst/smut, drinking, smoking, what could be perceived as infidelity but technically isn't. this story is 18+ minors do not interact.

You met him in September, at a nightclub on the mainland. You had been dancing with your girlfriends all night, celebrating your best friend’s bachelorette party. It was the fourth bachelorette you’d been to in a year, now at the age when all of your friends were settling down and getting married. There was no ring in sight for you, though. Your friends would laugh and call you the wild stallion, a running joke among the group that no man could tame you. You never saw the point in marriage. You were stubbornly independent, insistent that you would make your own way in the world, promising yourself you’d never be just someone’s little wife.

You knew this choice meant you’d struggle a little more than your friends, most of whom ‘married-up’ financially. You didn’t grow up with money, and you didn’t have any now. You had spent your whole life on The Cut and you had no problem spending the rest of it there. If the trade off for living your life however you wanted was hustling and jumping between dead-end jobs, so be it. You were much more interested in collecting stories anyway, always looking for wild nights and strange characters to fill your life with, briefly, not keeping anyone around for too long.

You went out every weekend, no Monday 9-to-5 looming over your fun. You’d brought many guys back to the little shack by the water that you rented, your barely-one-bedroom, as you called it lovingly. All the other bachelorette parties ended up with you bringing some guy back to your apartment for some pretty good sex and a completely ingenuine “I’ll text you sometime.” So when you stepped off the dance floor, sweat making your silk-slip dress cling to your curves, and the bartender handed you a drink that was a gift “from that guy over there” you smiled wide, knowing this night would go exactly as planned.

You smiled slyly at the tall blond in the corner as you took a delicate sip of your drink. He was gorgeous, eyeing you up and down like he was starved for you. His large frame was crowding the booth of the VIP section as he winked and lifted his glass to you in salute.

This time, there was a problem. This time, the sex wasn’t pretty good. This time, the sex was earth shatteringly incredible. You genuinely didn’t know sex could be that good, that a guy you met at a bar could ever be capable of making you feel so euphoric, or come so hard, so many times. You didn’t know your own body was capable of the things he got it to do. You didn’t think you’d ever want to stay up talking and laughing with one of your hook-ups like you did that night. You didn’t think you’d ever wake up disappointed that the guy from the night before wasn’t in the bed next to you. And you definitely didn’t think you’d ever be the one to pull out your phone and text him first.

After that night, you saw each other regularly. It turned out he lived on the island too, though his estate was on the rich side of town. That first night, he only told you his first name. But when he had you put your number in his phone and text yourself so you’d have his, a note popped up at the top of the text thread that said “maybe: Rafe Cameron.” You recognized the surname immediately, it was everywhere on this island. After he left the second time, you googled him. Thousands of hits came up, articles about his family, pictures of them at their estate, on their yacht, at charity galas and property groundbreakings. Even though you knew his drive back from your place was only a couple of minutes, every night when he snuck out into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel like he was retreating to a completely different universe.

After a few weeks, Rafe’s late night visits started getting longer and longer. After he’d fold you into shapes you didn’t know you could make and fuck you breathless, you’d lay in your bed, his head on your chest, smoking a joint and talking for hours. You talked about everything, the conversations weaving between casual chats about your common interests, to deep talks about purpose, values, and trauma, to joking around and teasing each other until you were giggling below him and he was smiling into the skin of your neck.

You’d tell him about your plans to never settle down and keep chasing the next adventure. He’d tell you about his asshole of a father and the grand plans he had for him. Neither of you ever acknowledged how antithetical your life plans were. The truth that nothing real would ever work between you would hang in the air everyone once in a while, but you’d just push away the tension with a joke and fuck again.

Even though your nights together would bleed well into the early morning, Rafe never stayed over. It was an unspoken rule between you, he never told you he wanted to stay and you never asked him to. You told yourself it was a good thing, exactly what you wanted, as you shivered in your empty bed and cursed the loss of his warmth.

One night, that May, you and Rafe sat on your bed, eating the take-out he had ordered to your apartment after you’d finished fucking. He was quieter than usual, distracted. Just a little earlier, he had gone down on you for longer than he ever had. Taking his time, praising every inch of you with kisses. He whispered little nothings into the soft skin of your inner thighs before devouring you. “So beautiful” and “so good to me, baby” and “all I can fucking think about.” He always talked to you sweetly, saying the nicest words while doing the filthiest things to you, but this time was different. Typically he was rough, which you loved, but this night he moved slowly, without his usual urgency. He brought you to orgasm on his tongue twice, before fucking you in missionary, his forehead against yours as you came at the same time. Since that moment, he’d barely said anything to you outside of asking what you wanted for dinner.

You sat in silence and picked at the Chinese food he’d gotten from your favorite place. You watched him as he shifted uncomfortably on the mattress and twirled a chopstick between his long fingers.

“You don’t like your food?” You asked him hesitantly.

“Hmm?” He looked at you for the first time in several minutes. “Oh, no it’s fine, it’s good.”

His smile was tight as he set the containers on your nightstand, out of the way.

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t eat any of it,” you pointed out. You hoped your teasing would loosen him up a bit, but he just sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You asked quietly, your hand reaching out to gently pat his leg. You had never seen him like this before and had no idea how to proceed.

He looked up at you and leaned back against the headboard, biting the skin around his thumbnail. You were getting nervous.

“Rafe?”

“I, uh, had a talk with my dad today,” he muttered.

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows in curiosity. “And how did that go?”

“About as good as you might think,” he chuckled humorlessly.

Even though you didn't know his dad, after the many stories Rafe had told you about his father’s temper and general disapproval of him, you hated him.

You sat in silence, hand still on Rafe’s knee, as you waited for him to tell you more.

“He said, uh…” Rafe stalled, like he was struggling to find the right words.

“He said what?” Your heartbeat quickened in anticipation, the unfamiliarity of his tone throwing your thoughts into chaos.

When he still didn’t answer, you whispered, “Rafe you’re making me nervous.”

He responded to this, clearly feeling bad when he realized he had you on edge. He placed his hand over yours and finally made eye contact with you. You tilted your head and tried to read his expression with no luck.

“He told me he wants to make me the VP of Acquisitions at Cameron Development,” he finally said.

You shook your head slightly as a big smile of relief spread across your face.

“Oh,” you half-chuckled. “Well, Rafe, that's great! That’s what you wanted right?” You placed your other hand on his forearm and shook him playfully. “That’s good news, why are you acting like someone died? Jesus, you scared me!”

He smiled at the gesture, you knew he liked the way you’d mess with him. But then he straightened up more against the headboard, pulling away from you slightly.

“That’s not all he said,” he explained.

“What else? He’s going to give you a million dollars?” You joked.

“No,” he said sternly, making the smile fall from your lips immediately. “He said if I want this promotion that I need to get my shit together and…settle down.”

“Oh,” your brows furrowed as you considered his meaning, not quite understanding at first. When it hit you, you pulled your hands away from him completely. “Oh.”

“Y/n,” Rafe whispered, observing the way your lips curved down slightly.

“You’re ending this,” you said flatly, gesturing between the two of you.

“I didn’t say that,” he winced.

“But you are, though, I mean you have to,” you had steeled yourself into an impassive tone, trying to come across as unaffected.

Internally, you were on fire, feeling so foolish for how happy and giggly you had just been, oblivious to the fact that you were essentially being dumped.

Neither of you had ever said this was exclusive, you weren’t a couple, there was no commitment made. Still, the way he’d talk while he was inside of you made your head dizzy with the possibility of it all. There was an alternate universe out there somewhere in the cosmos, where he made you his for real, claimed you in public, put a ring on your finger. Sometimes, when he was so deep you were seeing stars and telling you how much he “loved being inside of his girl” you’d allow yourself to get lost in the fantasy, just for a minute.

Then you’d wake up alone, still poor, still a pogue. You’d light up a cigarette and let the smoke engulf your delusions.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “He made it very clear that he expects me to find someone soon, to get married and start a family. I can’t do that with you, obviously.”

Obviously. Your throat tightened at the hurtful assertion.

“Right, obviously,” you agreed. “I mean I’m just a pogue who lives in this shithole and you should be with someone more worthy of you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Rafe muttered, closing his eyes tight in frustration. “I meant, ‘cause you know, you don’t want all that.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s okay, Rafe, I get it,” you scoffed. “This was never meant to be a long term thing anyway, we’re just fucking.”

It was such a ridiculous assertion, your trist had gone so far past just fucking, but you needed to convince yourself it was true otherwise there was no way you’d make it out of this unscathed.

Rafe just blinked back at you for a minute before standing from your bed. You were grateful he was moving quickly, the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you cry.

“Right, just fucking,” he agreed. “And I need someone who can run a house and have a family, y'know, and understands my world.”

Every single word felt like a knife in your gut. You nodded like you couldn’t agree more, shuffling down in your bed and pulling the covers up.

“Okay then,” you fluffed your pillow, as if it was any other night and you were just getting ready for bed. “I hope it all works out. This was fun, though. Lock the door on your way out?”

Rafe looked down at you for a few seconds, your back to him as you settled into your pillows.

“You got it,” he answered.

And then he was gone. And for the first time in your life, you cried yourself to sleep.

It was June now, a month had passed since the night you last spoke to Rafe. You had started going out even more than you were before you met him. You friends joked that you were alive from the dead, since you had chosen nights in with Rafe over social events for so many months.

You were dancing at the same club where you met Rafe so many months earlier. You joined a few of your girls at the bar and waved down the bartender for another drink.

“...posted on her story,” you leaned in to catch the end of your friend’s sentence. The girls were all leaning over to look at something on one of their phones.

“What are we looking at?” You slurred, already a few drinks deep.

The girl holding the phone told you they were looking at the instagram of a local influencer you all knew of.

You made a fake gagging noise. She was one of the richest girls on the island, infamous among you and your friends for her obnoxiously lavish lifestyle and her overly edited social media pictures.

“Ew, why?” you questioned them, accepting your usual drink from the bartender with a wink.

“Look at what she posted tonight,” your friend holding the phone showed you the screen.

You studied the photo, your grasp around the cold glass got tighter as you took it in, your knuckles going white. It was a selfie - the girl you couldn't stand all done up in diamonds and red lipstick, gazing up lovingly at Rafe Cameron.

There was no caption, just a little heart-eyes emoji and his instagram tagged.

You never told your friends about you and Rafe. You felt strangely protective over what you had with him, not willing to hear any negative feedback about fucking around with a Kook prince. You knew they wouldn’t understand how perfect and intense your nights with him were. They wouldn’t believe that he was funny, sweet, tender. No one would ever know him like you did.

Like you used to know him.

You took a sip of your drink and tried to act unaffected by the picture. In reality, your world was crashing around you. You knew he’d find his perfect Kook princess eventually, but you didn’t know it would be so soon, or that it would be her. You half-listened as one of the girls explained that she heard from a mutual friend that they weren’t official yet, but you knew they would be soon enough. Everything would go to plan for him, he’d get everything he ever wanted and you’d just watch through a screen.

After telling your friends you had a headache, you took a ferry back to the island and walked to your apartment in the dark. It was a questionable choice in this part of town, but you needed the early summer night air to clear your brain. By the time you got back to your apartment you were sober, and yet you still felt like you might throw up.

You ran the shower in your tiny bathroom, letting the steam fill up the space and sink into your pores. The hot water turned your skin red and blotchy, but you couldn’t feel a thing.

BANG BANG BANG.

Your eyes flew open and you turned the faucet off quickly, hands shaking in panic. It was nearly 2 a.m. and someone was pounding on your front door. You wrapped a towel around yourself and padded lightly over the front door.

“Who is it?” You yelled, trying to sound as menacing as possible.

“It’s me,” a deep voice answered from the other side. You peered into the peephole, even though you didn’t need to see him to know who the voice belonged to.

Rafe stood on the other side, his white button up untucked and his tie loosened. It must be the same outfit he was wearing in the picture.

Your body and brain both paused, unable to process the shock of seeing him standing under your porch light.

“What do you want?” You questioned.

“Can I come in please?” His voice was strained, weak even.

“Why?” You said with a guarded edge to your tone.

“Y/n…” Rafe pleaded.

Despite every instinct you had, you opened the door.

He looked frenzied, his hair tousled, and the hem of his suit pants splattered with mud. He still looked fucking hot, his sleeves rolled up a bit, revealing his muscular forearms.

“What happened to you?” You asked.

“I walked here.” His eyes flickered up and down your figure, taking in the sight of you in just a towel, licking his lips.

Your stomach tightened at the hunger in his eyes, but the pain of the last month burned fresh in your mind. Getting over him was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and the long, painful process wasn’t even over yet. Seeing that picture tonight was just another sharp spike in the barbed wire he had wrapped around your heart.

“She couldn’t have given you a ride?” You spat at him.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t need to ask who you were referring to.

“I asked her not to post that picture, I didn’t want you to see that,” he huffed.

“Why not? I knew it was coming." You summoned the same unbothered tone from the night he left you.

“We’re not-” he stumbled over his words, looking down at his feet. “She isn’t my girlfriend…”

“Yet." You jumped to the end of his sentence for him. His eyes flew up to yours. “But she will be,” you surmised with a sad smile.

He doesn’t disagree with you.

“She’s perfect,” you continue. “Gorgeous, rich, part of your world.”

He sighs regretfully, both of you recognizing the words he said to you a month earlier.

“I know,” he agrees.

“Then why did you come here?”

He doesn’t answer you, just clenches his jaw and keeps his eyes firmly locked to yours.

“She’s everything you wanted,” you point out.

He nods his head in agreement again, “you’re right.”

“So then why are you here?” You repeat.

He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly, blue eyes locked onto your lips.

“‘Cause she’s not you.”

You wish it didn’t make your heart race, wish it didn’t make your stomach flip, and you really wish it didn’t make you let out a small, nearly inaudible gasp. His heavily lidded eyes fogged over with need as he studied your face intently. Your gaze dropped from his eyes, to his lips, to his heaving chest, to his wringing hands. He flexed his fingers anxiously, and you wished you didn’t know what they felt like buried inside of you.

Your mind was racing, a million thoughts and most of them were warnings. You knew how this ends, the morning would come and he wouldn't be there. And a year from now they’ll be married and you’ll be haunted by this night. Every self-protective instinct you have left screamed in your head, pleading with you to make the right choice.

You were ready to appease the voices, about to close the door in his face, when his fingers reached towards you and just barely grazed the seam of your towel, tugging slightly with the most restraint you think he’s ever shown. All the noise in your head just stopped. Suddenly there was nothing in the entire world except for the man in front of you.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you breathed out hard and fast before grabbing his face in both of your hands and crashing your lips into his.

He lost it at the sound of his name on your lips and the taste of you on his tongue. His hands landed firmly on your waist, squeezing hard. His lips parted yours and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot and greedy. His hands slipped to your lower back, caging you into him with a flex of his biceps. You let out the sweetest little grunt as you jumped up, your arms and legs wrapping around him so he could carry you.

With you in his arms, he walked into your apartment. Still kissing him, you reached out and slammed the door closed. He let go of you with one hand to reach back and turn the lock, a sign of strength as he held up your whole body with one arm like you weigh nothing. He walked you both through your small apartment, not needing to look where he’s going to find your bedroom.

He bent low to drop you on the bed, you released your grip around his shoulders just long enough for him to roughly rip his shirt open and pull it off. He was back on top of you in seconds, lifting you up to scoot you both up to the top of the mattress.

As his lips moved to your neck, you realized you’re already falling back into your old patterns, with Rafe controlling the tempo and doing most of the work. The familiarity made you anxious, you had gotten so addicted to the way he commanded your body and you weren’t sure you’d survive another detox. When he started rolling his hips against you, you could feel how hard and ready he was under his slacks, and made a decision.

You reached up behind his head and laced your fingers through his hair, tugging hard to separate his lips from your skin. A gasp passed through his lips at the sensation.

“You want me, baby?” You purred.

His brows furrowed, but he was too desperate to play games.

“So badly,” he admitted.

“You want to be inside of me?”

His eyes rolled back slightly at the sound of your dirty words. When he didn't answer, you arched your back and pressed up into his aching cock, letting the towel open just enough to expose your bare core, your wetness soaking into the soft fabric of his pants.

“I need it,” he groaned. “Need to feel your pussy around me again.”

At this confession, you released his hair and pressed against his chest to roll him onto his back, straddling him. You kissed him again, just as fevered as before. While your mouth clashed with his, your hands undid his belt and he lifted his hips to allow you to pull his slacks down, leaving him in his snug briefs. You bit his lip, smiling smugly when he moaned. You licked a stripe up his neck, loving the salty taste, Rafe already sweaty from how worked up you’ve got him.

You kiss up his neck, until your mouth is pressed into the shell of his ear.

You whispered, “Does she feel as good as me?”

Rafe said your name in warning, clearly not wanting to talk about her while you were on top of him like this.

You pulled his earlobe between your teeth and bit down, making him wince, pleasured by the pain.

“Answer me,” you demanded.

“N-no,” he stuttered as you pressed your hips down hard, your now dripping pussy sliding over the outline of his cock.

You sat up straight, and he tried to follow you, his head lifting from the pillow, but you laid your hand softly on his chest and pushed him back down.

Rafe watched as you slowly open the towel and dropped it to the floor, revealing yourself completely. He lifted his hands subconsciously, reaching for your tits. You grabbed his wrists and held his hands back, just inches from your skin.

“Does she make you as hard as I do?” You said with another circle of your hips.

He shook his head back and forth rapidly, relenting to your game. You lowered one of his hands, raising your hips off of him slightly, one more question in mind.

He inhaled sharply as you dragged his hand against your pussy, his fingers instinctively rubbing with the perfect pressure.

“Does she get this wet for you, baby?”

“Fuck,” he grunted through clenched teeth, “No.”

You leaned back over him, lips hovering over his, your breath intertwined.

“Then fuck me like you’ll never be able to fuck her.”

Rafe’s restraint snapped in half and he flipped you on your back. He ripped his briefs down with one hand, while the other ran over your calf and brought it to his shoulder.

He filled you like only he can, like he was tailor made for you. You clenched around him hard as he pounded into you, eventually lifting your other leg so you could dig your heels into his shoulder. No more words were exchanged, the ecstasy and exertion and emotion all too intense for either of you to form words.

This is it, you told yourself, tomorrow he’ll belong to her.

The tops of your thighs pressed into your stomach as he bottomed out over and over again. You hoped he would think the water in your eyes was just a result of the pressure. He must've noticed it though, because he threaded his fingers with yours to soothe you, pressing his forehead against your temple, and panting desperately into your ear.

It only took a few more strokes for you both to come. The last time you heard his voice, he was crying out your name. He filled you completely, and you were still dripping with him when he climbed off of you, pulled his clothes on wordlessly, and left.

You laid still for a long while. No tears came to you this time, a bitter acceptance washing over you.

He’s gone for good now, leaving you with another wild story to tell and freeing you to throw yourself into the next adventure. And he’ll have a picture perfect life, with the perfect girl.

You both got exactly what you wanted…

…right?

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

part 2

#rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #angst #Rafe cameron angst #obx smut #smut #June gloom #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe obx #rafe cameron fic

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binniesbooks · 3 months ago

Text

• SANDWICH

TXT 019 .F05 2024

wc 6.8k

pairings Nickjudyz!TXT x fem!reader

warnings reader was described as poor, Yeonjun and Soobin being loaded, growing alone, self relieving, oral sex (Soobin receiving), slight cum eating, squint to see some fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint once more, pet names, degradation, boob kink for Soobin if you squint again lol, bigcock!Soobin, bigcock!Yeonjun, virgin!reader, threesome, double vaginal penetration (hit me up if I forgot something)

faye's note took me not only a week to finish this! Omg! Nevertheless, HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS! Thank you so much guys, I love you all! 😭❤️ Please continue on supporting me and my fics. I promise to hold an event soon if we reach another milestone :> Cheers🥂!

Growing up alone, you've done everything to survive. Even when you were still a child, you worked for yourself. Doing laundry for the neighbors, helping the market vendors, walking pets—doing anything just so that you could earn a small profit.

Now that you're a college student, you've been hired by the school cafeteria due to the dean's empathy. You have a small space in the cafeteria for your small business, selling sandwiches. Every break time, lunch, and when you were vacant, you would quickly make your way to the school cafeteria to sell your products. You've been selling other foods too, like juice drinks and chips, but mainly sandwiches.

You would always wake up early in the morning to prepare everything you needed for your products.

"How much for a sandwich?" A tall, handsome man stood in front of your stall while you were busy cleaning your table.

"2 500 won, each," you smiled at the guy before you.

"I'll get two, please," he said as he pulled out his wallet.

"I'll just wrap it!" You cheerfully answered, not wanting to show how tired you are.

You're basically tired, not just today. But just tired of your whole life. Many times you tried ending it, but you always chickened out. And nothing changed. You struggle with your daily life. You can barely pay rent and your other bills. If it wasn't for the financial assistance given by the school dean and your side hustles, you surely wouldn't have been able to manage.

"Thank you! Enjoy your snack!" You cheerfully thanked the guy as you bowed down.

"Hyung! Come get your snack!" You heard the tall male call for someone over the other side of the cafeteria. Your gaze moved towards the other male. He's a little shorter than the first one. But he has a quite pretty face: pouty lips and captivating eyes. Handsome, yes.

"Yup! They're our seniors. They're also known as the Nickjudyz." You later found out from your friend that they were your seniors; they are a year older than you, and they were both scheduled to run for the presidential position on the student council for the upcoming election. Not that they wanted it, but actually, the campus dean had assigned both of them to different party lists at that. So basically, they didn't have a choice at all.

"Nickjudyz? What does that mean?" you questioned.

"You haven't heard of the animation movie Zootopia? They were the epitome of Nick the Red Fox and Judy the Rabbit," your friend explained. "Yeonjun's features were like those of a fox, and Soobin's a rabbit. Aren't they cute?" she added, giggling.

So the taller one was Soobin, and the one with sharper looks was Yeonjun, you understood now. "Nickjudyz..." you mumbled.

That night, you watched Zootopia, taking notes on the characters. And the next day, your sandwiches were Zootopia-themed. You were really waiting for the two of them to come and buy from you again.

However, luck was not on your side. When you weren't able to see them around, you felt sad. They were the reason you made your sandwiches Zootopia-themed.

You were about to close your stall when the shorter guy, Yeonjun, was running towards you. "Sandwich! Two!" he shouted with a wide grin. "Uhm, do you still have some?" He scratched the back of his head, realizing you were about to close your stall.

"I, uh, kept two pieces, actually. I thought you might come again." You hesitated at first.

"Nice! We just came out of the dean's office, and we hadn't managed to eat anything, you're a lifesaver," Yeonjun sighed in relief, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket.

After those times, you always got to sell your sandwiches to them. You even grew closer to them thanks to the short interaction you get to share with them every day. Sometimes, Soobin would be the only one to come, sometimes, it's just Yeonjun, sometimes they are both standing in front of your stall, buying themselves a sandwich. They became your regular customers.

"How about I recruit you to be my secretary on my party list? I still haven't recruited my secretary yet," Yeonjun suggests when he buys from you again one time.

You didn't know why you answered, though. It's not like you actually wanted to be a part of the student council. Maybe it was because of his pretty eyes and his cute pout. "I-i'll think about it."

He smiled and went away, skipping.

The next day, Soobin also suggested the same. "I already recruited her, Soob." Yeonjun wrapped his arms around the taller guy.

"Hyung, that's unfair!" Soobin pouted, only for Yeonjun to chuckle. "Oh! I have an idea!" he exclaimed.

"And that is?" Yeonjun looked at him, confusion written on his face.

"Why don't we let her choose from the two of us, instead?" Soobin chimed.

You froze from wiping the glass cabinet for your sandwich. "Wait, you're actually letting me choose between your party lists?" you asked, stunned at Soobin's suggestion. The two males just nodded at you.

Yes, you had built some connections with them. You can even consider it friendship, well, that's what they've said to you too. But to choose between the two of them to support, you think it's unfair. Especially since they were both good friends to you.

"Gosh, how can I? It's unfair," you groaned, Yeonjun chuckled.

"You can just think about it, but remember that if you don't choose me, you'll tear my heart apart," he pouted.

"See? That's what I'm saying! I don't want anyone of you to feel bad," you sighed, spraying Yeonjun with water from your bottle sprayer.

Soobin hummed, sipping on the canned soda in his hand. "Maybe you can choose if you got help from the both of us," he suggested.

"Come to think of it. Lately, I've been too busy with my business that I wasn't able to catch up again on some of my activities." You sat down on your chair, removing your apron. "Since you're both my seniors, how about you teach me?" you added.

"Like, tutor you or something?" Soobin said, turning over to you. You quickly nodded. "I might consider your request if you do so," you grinned.

Long story short, Soobin and Yeonjun both agreed on giving you a tutoring session.

It's been almost a week. The session went well. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just them teaching and assisting you.

You always do your sessions at the school's library or the town's public library. Anywhere but your house. You know the three of you won't fit in that small studio. Considering they are tall towers, you often tease them with this, in which they often rebut you that you're just short.

"Should we end it here today? I mean, I still have a part-time job to go for at 6," you glanced at your phone secretly—the screen broke and an old model—you don't want them to see that, at least.

Actually, they were far out of your league, even just as friends. Sometimes, you would even think about not showing up near them anymore, but guilt would always eat you up. They've been so good to you, they like to help you out at your stall sometimes when they are free.

"Say, how many side hustles do you have? I don't mean to offend you, but why do you need so many jobs?" Yeonjun, showing his little curious side, tilts his head a bit. Is he confused? Maybe. Is he mocking you? No, his eyes doesn't tell you that.

You sighed, not wanting to hide your situation anymore, not with how his curious eyes were boring holes in your face. "For weekdays, I go to school, and work at the cafeteria for some time," you paused, looking at Soobin, who was staring at you too for a while now. "At 7, I work at a convenience store down my street, and clock out at 12."

Soobin's eyes were full of concern. "Do you even have time for yourself? Time to study? Time to rest?" he shoots.

You shook your head and continued to speak, "I study for a bit, and I sleep before 2, then wake up at 6 again to prepare for my business, given that our class starts at 8 in the morning."

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Yeonjun frowns after knowing you could barely rest.

"It does not end there yet," you chuckled. "On Saturdays and Sundays, I work at a cafe from 6–12 in the morning, work at the laundry shop from 1-4 in the afternoon, head straight here for our sessions, and catch a night of restaurant work from 6–11."

You could pick their jaws off the floor. You chuckled at their reaction. "Are you still alive? Tell me if I'm talking to a ghost..." Yeonjun hugs himself dramatically. "Hyung, don't be like that." Soobin slaps his shoulder, emitting a whine from the older man.

"I should get going now, see you on Monday!" You quickly got up to your feet and waved at them as you ran outside.

That Monday, you saw yourself working with the two males at your stall. They were the ones selling your sandwich. And since they've got the face, the reputation, and all, your sales suddenly skyrocketed. You needed to run to the nearest store near your school to buy what you needed to restock.

"Achoo!"

"That's your 99th time sneezing today, little angel," Yeonjun said, without turning to face you, still busy cleaning the glass cabinet.

"I'm okay, don't worry - Achoo!"

The next day, you were nowhere to be found. The sandwich stall was not open and no sneezes could be heard.

"Bin, I just realized... We actually have no way to contact her," Yeonjun was tapping his fingers on the cool steel table of your stall.

"I wonder what happened to her," Soobin sighed, rummaging through your stall, foolishly hoping to find some way to contact you.

"Let's go to the faculty, I have an idea," Yeonjun suggested.

"What? No, we can't disclose any information about students to other students, so no," the school administrator declined his request.

"Pleeeasseee, sir," Yeonjun begs, only to be declined again.

"Uhm, she's... She's my secretary for the election, so I need to have her information, at least," Soobin butts in.

"Your name?" The admin asked Soobin.

"Soobin. Choi Soobin, sir."

The two of them quickly ran out of the faculty as soon as they got what they needed. Quickly excusing themselves from their respective classes, claiming they have some emergency to tend to.

You woke up to the irritating ringing of your doorbell. You were not expecting any visitors today.

"Goodness, who could it be..." You stood up only to fall back down on your bed again because of dizziness. You felt the drilling pain on your head again that you had felt since last night. You shiver, pulling your jacket to yourself, yet you can feel yourself so sticky because of sweat.

"Who is--" Your eyes widened the moment you were met with two tall guys standing in front of your studio. You quickly slammed your door and leaned against it.

'What the hell are they doing here?! How did they find me? Oh my god!' You panicked, screaming inside your head.

"Angel," you heard Yeonjun whisper, "Can we come in?"

"H-how did you find where I live?" you asked. Dumb question. They could just ask around the faculty. "Dummy," you whispered to yourself, facepalming yourself.

You opened the door and peeked at them. "Hi, hehe," you awkwardly smiled at them.

"C-come in..." You opened the door wide, welcoming them to your small studio.

"We're gonna let ourselves in," Soobin mumbled, removing his shoes from the doorstep.

Their eyes were welcomed by a small bed that could barely fit two people in the corner. A small study table is beside it, stacked with books and a broken phone on top, and with a small dresser near the bed.

A single-seater dining table on the other side with some instant foods and a portable stove.

Their eyes roamed a little more. A closed door, they assumed, was the rest room, just sat near the doorstep.

"I... I don't think my place is enough to fit the three of us..." you fidgeted, sitting on your bed as your head spun again, making you shut your eyes tightly.

"You were sick after all," Soobin commented. "I'll just go out, I'll come back quickly," he said as he carefully stepped out of your place.

"So... This is where you live?" Yeonjun sat on the chair at your dining table. You meekly nodded. "All of those side hustles for this place?" he added.

You know he does not mean to offend you once again, yet you felt yourself getting embarrassed. "I barely survive... Even from those multiple part-time jobs. N-not to mention that—cough, excuse me.. I am paying loans too," you explained as you lay down on your bed, feeling your body burn up again.

Your gaze returned to Yeonjun when you heard him talk.

"Buy cough medication as well, Bin. And, oh, a few fruits too if you don't mind."

"Why are you looking for me, by the way?" you asked, pulling the blanket to cover yourself.

"We were worried, of course. How can we not? Plus, we weren't able to eat a sandwich today," he smiled, even though he knows you're not looking at him.

Yeonjun stood up. "Towels," he said.

You looked at him confused. "Huh?"

"Where are your towels?" he asked himself.

You pointed at the dresser, "Lowest part."

"I can't believe my tongue didn't taste any of your sandwiches today, angel. Do you know how much I crave for it every day?" You heard the water running in your restroom for a moment.

Yeonjun gently pats the wet towel on your forehead, wiping your face as well. He even hesitated at first to wipe your neck, shaking his head in the process.

"Don't you have any classes?"

"We do, but we excused ourselves. What can we do? We have an emergency at home," he smiled at you.

"Dummy, this ain't your home, Mr. Pouty Lips," you chuckled.

"Why not? Look, I even have a patient here at home," he says, tucking your straying hair behind your ear. His hand gently grazed your face, and you unconsciously leaned on his cool hand.

"Your hand feels cool..." you mumbled, squirming under the blanket. He then cupped your face, gently rubbing your cheek. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel relaxed beneath his touch.

"Pretty little angel." His voice was faint, even lower than a whisper.

"I'm back." Yeonjun snapped his head towards the door as Soobin closed it behind him. "How is she, hyung?"

"She fell asleep, she's burning hot, though." Yeonjun placed the towel on your forehead. "Hey Bin, you know how to make porridge, right? We should at least make her something warm."

You woke up again, but this time it was because of resounding murmurs filling up the small room.

"Hey angel, you're up?"

"You're still here?" you grunted as you tried your best to get up, receiving a helping hand from Yeonjun.

"You have to eat," Soobin says as he walks towards you with a plate with porridge in a bowl. "It's still warm, you'll feel better," he adds.

Soobin sat on the side of your bed, still holding the plate. Yeonjun stacking your pillows for you to lean on, as he ordered you to scoot back.

"Open your mouth y/n," Soobin scooped a spoonful of porridge.

"I can do it, you know," you chuckled.

"Please let me."

Soobin fed you the porridge he cooked. Yeonjun was at your table, peeling and slicing some fruits. "You should've taken care of yourself more," Yeonjun nags.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pouty Lips," you said as you flashed a smile at him. "I don't have any choice but to work."

You have been sick many times, but no one has ever been there to take care of you. No one cooked for you but yourself. You buy medicines alone, even when you are burning up. You needed to do your chores even when you got too dizzy to stand up. "I'm grateful to you two, this is the first time I have experienced being cared for."

And that's when they realized they needed to take care of you. That's when it registered in their minds that they needed to stay beside you. You're their precious little angel, whom they needed to take care of. A fragile person who still needs someone to be their companion.

"We're heading home for now, okay? We'll be back tomorrow, please rest a lot." His once captivating eyes were now full of worry, and his pouty lips became more pouty as he talks to you.

"Go now." Your smile wasn't forced at all. It was genuine. Your heart thumps as you recall how they took care of you. You were floating on cloud nine.

Yeonjun walked outside first, and Soobin stopped midway, turning back as he quickly tracked back towards you. "If anything happens, call me... please," he handed you a small note in which you assumed was his number.

Yeonjun came back the next day early in the morning just to see Soobin cooking breakfast while you were sitting on your bed like you'd've been awake for the past few hours.

"Is this why you weren't answering your phone?" he asked.

"Sorry, hyung, y/n called me in the middle of the night. Her temperature went up," the taller man sighed.

Yeonjun sat beside you, placing his hand on your forehead. "Do you feel okay now?" he asked as he cupped your face, his face merely an inch away from yours. You nodded, but you didn't even pull back. Maybe it's because his cool hands were on your cheeks, or maybe you were just feeling too hot. You actually don't know. All you knew was that you were feeling butterflies from his touch.

You watched how his pretty lips parted, how his tongue glossed his lips.

Which is to blame? You, who maybe, have a tiny crush on him that makes you wanna kiss him? Or Yeonjun, that may or may not be, doing this on purpose while his face was way too close to yours?

You tightly shut your eyes. Were you assuming a kiss?

"Angel, food is ready," he announced, standing up from your bed.

You opened your eyes, and you watched him look at Soobin, as they seemed to talk with their eyes.

"I'm glad it's Saturday today. There's nothing else to do." Soobin stretches his feet, plopping down on your bed after eating. "I feel so sleepy," he muttered, his eyes fluttering close.

Yeonjun lay beside him, closing his eyes with a smile plastered on his face. You, on the other hand, just came out of the bathroom.

You placed your hands on both of your waists. "How am I supposed to rest now? You're hogging my bed."

Soobin pretended to snore as he let Yeonjun hide on his back, trying to hold back his snickers.

Maybe you could let them rest. It won't hurt to let them rest after receiving a lot of favors.

"I have a test this coming Thursday, I don't know if I would be able to pass the test," you sighed, poking at the watermelon slices Yeonjun placed in front of you.

It's been more than a week since you were sick. You were now invited over to their place for your tutoring session. It only occurred to you that they're not just friends, they were roommates too.

"You can do it, I know you can, you've been studying a lot," Soobin cheered, stopping for a while from writing in your notebook.

Yeonjun picked up a piece of watermelon barehanded, making it touch your lips. "How about a little gift if you pass the exam, little angel?" he suggested, "Aahh," and asked you to open your mouth at the same time to feed you.

His fingers grazed your lips a little more than expected, and he proceeded to lick his fingers with the left-over juice of the watermelon. "What do you say?" Yeonjun leans forward to you, his hands propped on the table in their living room.

You meekly nodded. No noise, just a simple nod and a lip bite that didn't escape Soobin's and Yeonjun's sight. "W-what gift though?" you asked, trying to straighten your posture.

"Soob, any suggestions?" He peered towards the taller male, only for Soobin to answer with a "Shhh, secret," and a smile.

Yeonjun chuckled, ruffling your hair. "Surprise, little angel, it's a surprise."

You were aware of their subtle advances, actually. Especially how clingy and touchy Yeonjun was. But you were just letting it slide. You don't give it plenty of attention.

But you have already admitted it to yourself. You're swooning over them. They're your good friends, though, and that's why you kept on pushing your lingering feelings back.

The session went well that day too. Not to mention that you're no longer rushing because they already asked you to drop some of your side hustles. You were hesitant at first because how are you going to pay your bills now? But you ended up listening to them and their pouty request. How could you say no? Why would you dare say no, rather?

Thursday came quickly, and taking the biology test first thing in the morning felt like walking on fire and broken glasses barefoot. You could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead and your heart thumping. You even called all the saints, gods, and goddesses you knew to help you answer the test. If looks could kill, flies would be all over your teacher's body.

The following day, your test papers were given back to you. You were too scared to open the folded piece of paper. That's why you kept it like that between the pages of your notebook. You even brought the notebook with you when you went back to your stall to sell your sandwiches.

In the midst of the crowd at lunch, you saw the two tall guys walking towards you once again. As if on cue, they waved at you the moment they met your eyes. You could clearly picture bunny ears and a foxtail over their figures as you chuckled to yourself. "Silly guys," you whispered to yourself.

Soobin was the one who noticed the notebook on the side. He was trying to fan himself with your notebook when your biology test results came flying out from your notebook.

"What's that?" Yeonjun asked as he saw Soobin opening the folded paper.

"Woah! I knew you'd ace the test y/n," he exclaimed, making you snap your head towards them with a confused look.

"Did our surprise gift make you motivated?" Yeonjun taunts, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"T-that... I..." You were out of words. From what Yeonjun had said and from knowing you actually got a perfect score from your biology class, which you dearly hated from the start.

"It looks like we need to give here our prize, hyung," Soobin smiled. They look at each other knowingly. They know what you deserve. "Shall we head out first?"

Yeonjun and Soobin head home first, ahead of you. They said they wanted to take a stroll at the mall to buy something as your prize, and they just told you to head straight to their place tomorrow afternoon.

You were able to sleep soundly that night. Knowing that you can ace tests only if you focus on your studies. You felt proud of your achievement, given that you don't usually do well in your biology class. You even planned on making the two guys a special-made sandwich to thank them for their work. However, you were actually planning on turning down their request. You couldn't stand choosing between the two of them. You would rather back down than choose.

You were actually expecting something more of a material gift. Maybe a book, a chair, or something you could use inside your small studio. And the gift you were about to receive was the last on your list.

"Fuck princess, why are you so good," Soobin hummed while guiding your head.

"You should be more gentle, Bin. Remember, she still needs to choose who she wants to serve under," Yeonjun chuckled while caressing your dainty finger as he placed your hand on his tenting bulge.

You glanced at your hand on his bulge, and your gaze went up to his eyes. Yeonjun tilted his head, "What is it, pretty angel?"

You swore, and your stomach swirled. Little did they know, whenever they called you these names, you felt a little weaker in your knees.

How did it happen that a visit to their place would end up with you in their bedroom?

You rang the doorbell at their apartment's door, clutching onto the paper bag of the special sandwich with a wide smile on your face. Yeonjun opened the door, rubbing his eyes. He looks like he just woke up from an afternoon nap. Until you realize he's not wearing a shirt. His bare and toned body is displayed in front of you.

"Hi angel, sorry, we were asleep. A friend visited earlier and got us drunk," he apologizes. "Come in."

"Fuck, my head is spinning," he muttered to himself.

"Uhm, should I just come back next week? Do you want to rest for now?" worry and nervousness were visible on your face.

"No, please come in. You don't mind taking care of us too, right?" he smiled, picking up the bottles and cans on the table.

"Where's Soobin?"

"The room over there, do you mind waking him up? I'll just clean this." Some takeout boxes were scattered around the floor, and spilled drinks and sauces were also around.

"Soo-"

"Ahh fuck, y/n... More... You feel so good... Ahh.." You were stunned when you pushed the door open. Soobin was sitting down on the side of his bed, clutching the hem of his t-shirt up to his chest, while he gently stroked his shaft.

"C-come on pretty... I n-need more..." Soobin lolled his head back, letting go of his shirt to use his other arm to support his body as he tightly gripped the bedsheet.

"D-do you need h-help?" You actually don't know why you asked it. You should've just closed the door and pretended that you saw nothing.

Soobin peers over you, "Fuck, didn't know you're already here... Shit sorry, I need you y/n." His lower lip caught between his teeth, sweat forming on his forehead as his fringe sticks.

Like clockwork, you slowly managed to get near him.

"But... But I think you're drunk... I don't think this is right..." you chirped, trying to fight your desires with reality.

"I'm sober. I swear, fuck.. How can I not be when all I can think about was how you," he paused, pressing down on his slit, "Fuck!" He looks up at you once again, "All I can think about was h-how you m-moaned my name when you c-called me that night." He was once again reminded of how you moaned and chanted his name, calling for help, your pants, and heavy breaths when you called the night when your temperature went up.

A pinkish tint washed your face as you thought about how you did your best to call him.

You slowly knelt down between his legs, not breaking eye contact. Your hand slowly wraps around his cock as he draws back his hand.

"You're so p-pretty. I'm sorry I'm m-making you d-do this." You shook your head and flashed him a smile.

"Y-you want this?" Soobin raised your hand to stop you for a while.

"I.. that.. probably..." You weren't able to form any coherent words about how scared you are to admit you have a little crush on them.

"Please. Please tell me you w-want this t-too, If you-"

"I do. I-I do want this. No, I want you, actually... You... And Yeonjun too. Just.."

"Just?"

"It's just that, I can't admit it. You're both good friends of mine. I can't afford to lose our small friendship just because I like the both of you," you bit your lower lip as you retract your hand and place them both on your knees, preparing yourself to receive some hate comments.

"How am I supposed to hold back after knowing you want me? Oh god, you'll be the death of me..."Soobin caressed your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his length.

You look up at him, your eyes full of innocence made him curse all the non-liviing things from hell.

"W-wanna fuck your throat so bad, princess," Soobin muttered, rubbing his shaft on your cheek.

"She's so pretty, I want to ruin her." Your gaze flits toward the voice, it was Yeonjun. He was leaning on the doorframe, watching the two of you exchange a little talk.

"Fucking pretty, hyung. And smart too. She deserves a gift, right?" Yeonjun nodded with a smirk playing on his pretty face.

"She's a good and honest little angel, she deserves a good gift."

Yeonjun marched his way towards the bed. The bed dipped under his weight when he sat beside Soobin.

And this was when you found yourself in that position, between Soobin's legs and reaching for Yeonjun. The sandwich on the paper bag, long forgotten, was splayed on the floor.

You lightly rubbed your hand on Yeonjun's pants, making him hiss under his breath. Your eyes flitted to Soobin, you watched him alternate between biting his lower lip and gaping his mouth.

"I-i'm gonna... y/n, 'm close-- Fuck!" Soobin's hips stutter, stilling for a while inside your mouth. Hot liquid sliding through your tongue.

"C'mere," Soobin quickly pulled you up, crashing his lips on yours.

"Let him taste himself, pretty," Yeonjun taunts.

You lightly open your mouth, letting some of his essence slip through your lips, swallowing the remaining on your tongue. Soobin moaned in your mouth, teeth almost clashing at each other, lips swollen from biting.

Soobin pulled away, his forehead on yours, chasing his breath. "God, it tastes weird," he mumbles.

You felt a hand on your waist, it was Yeonjun's. He was guiding you to sit on his lap.

"Make me cum."

You left a peck at Soobin's lips once more before straddling Yeonjun. Not wanting to be left behind, Soobin tugged at the hem of your shirt. "Can you remove this?" he asked, eyes begging.

You quickly slip out of your shirt. A red hue paints his cheeks as he tries to reach out for the strap of your bra, snapping it open.

Yeonjun then pushed your hips down on him to feel you, making you startled. "Mmhh, feels good, fuck," he sighs. His pouty lips look so delectable as you see him gape his mouth.

Your eyes don't want to leave Soobin, giving him a few glances as he strokes himself languidly while watching you.

"Pretty, never thought you could do something like this, you're not as innocent as you look, yeah?" Yeonjun's eyes were flying towards Soobin, as if asking for some approval, as he continued to guide your hips to grind above him.

"She's dirty, hyung," Soobin chuckles.

"I-i'm not, ahh-" you tried to retaliate, only for Yeonjun to buck his hips up.

"If you're not, then why are your nipples so perky?" Yeonjun smirks, rolling your nipples between his fingers, emitting soft whines from you that made Soobin leak out once again. Of course, he was reminded once more about that night.

"Look at her grinding above you even if when you're not holding her waist, hyung," Only then did you realize that Yeonjun's hands were no longer on you. You're moving on your own accord. No guidance at all.

You felt shy as you stilled your hips, hiding behind Yeonjun's neck. Were you this desperate? Were you this dirty? Just like what they've said?

Yeonjun lifted your skirt, landing a soft spank on your ass, making you yelp at his neck. "Why'd you stop?" He then squeezed your ass as he landed another spank.

Yeonjun raised your body for a bit, only to see how wet his sweats were. It's not from him, of course. You watch the ends of his lips curl up.

"Baby, look at the mess you've made," Yeonjun coos. Soobin reaches for your skirt to unzip it. Your baby pink underwear has now turned dark because of how wet you are.

You bit your lower lip as you look at Soobin, eyes glossy, seeking help, and cheeks beet red. You wanted to cry out of embarrassment.

"Oh, look at my pretty angel, Bin, she's about to cry."

Soobin chuckles, "Don't make her cry, hyung. You're such a menace."

"Continue moving then, save your tears for later," Yeonjun remarked, letting you drop down on his lap once again.

"No, baby, I'm not guiding you. Move on your own," he added as he shook his head when you still didn't move. Oh god, the embarrassment you've been feeling ever since you've stepped inside Soobin's room.

You grab both of his shoulders as you dance above his lap.

"Fuck w-wait, that's --" Yeonjun's hand flew over his mouth to clutch on it, his head lolling back with only a single arm supporting his body.

If there's something Yeonjun considers a weakness, it's when a girl moves in a circular motion on his lap. And you hit the jackpot on your first try.

A few more moves, and he found himself convulsing underneath you. His eyes were blown up when you looked at him. He looked so fucked out. Quickly moving to his side, he also looks down at his lap. You both witnessed how the wetness of his cum stained his sweats. The gray color slowly darkened as the liquid spread out.

You were the one who initiated the kiss this time, giving his pouty lips wet kisses, to which he responded back with a weak hum while he held your face.

Soobin pulled you back over him. "Sorry y/n, can't just stay still and watch you with him." Soobin discarded his shirt on the floor.

"Stop hogging her to yourself, Bin," Yeonjun chuckled at the younger's action and words.

Soobin carefully laid you down on his bed, latching his mouth on your boob, while he gently massaged the other one.

"Move over a bit, baby, need to feel you," Yeonjun lays down on his side beside you, flipping you to turn sideways. Soobin was still sucking on your chest while he moans out his hunger for you.

The pouty guy hugs your waist, littering love bites on your neck. Leaving splotchy red marks all over your nape and shoulder.

You never thought about having an active sexual life, given that you're too busy and focused on making ends meet. Let alone having two guys at the same time.

The tall guy in front of you leaves the same thing around your cleavage while he humps on your thigh. His shaft feels heavy on your skin.

Yeonjun's hand trails down your waist to your clitoral area, rubbing in a circular motion to hear you whimper his name.

"Y-yeonjun," you whimpered under your breath.

"I'm here, focus," your hips jerked when he slowly slid his finger inside your pussy only to pull it out again.

"Bin, wanna stretch her out? I want to feel her already," he grunts. The taller male complied, he scooted up and raised your leg.

"So wet, damn," he dipped his fingers inside you, and just like Yeonjun, he quickly drew it back, giving his fingers a lick to taste you.

"She's sweet, hyung, holy shit. But as much as I want to taste you, I also want to feel you around me, y/n."

The first stretch felt like your body was being torn apart. You quickly lean your head toward Yeonjun, and your hand reaches back. Fingers tangled on his blonde hair as you give it a pull, mouth agape at how big Soobin feels inside.

"So wet 'n tight," Soobin grunts as he keeps on pushing inside you.

"H-hurts! S-soob, it h-hurts!" you cried out as you reached for him, clawing his chest.

"I'm only h-halfway inside, mmpp!" Soobin winces at the pain from your scratches and how your pussy snuggled his thick cock. He holds your face to drown your moans and cries in his mouth as he quickly pushes inside you.

He pulled away as both of you pants as if you had run a hundred miles.

"Y-you're choking me," Soobin moves a little, making you whimper once more.

"B-bin you're t-too big," you pout.

You felt something poking your entrance once, making you peer over to your back. You were met with Yeonjun's fucked-out gaze.

"Need to feel you," Yeonjun shuts his eyes as he pushes slowly.

"W-wait! I can't! Ahh! Hurts!" You thrashed around, making Soobin moan with the pressure.

"S-stay still, y/n!" Soobin hugs you closer to him, "We will all get hurt, stay still, fuck," his abs clenched with how stimulated he was. He signaled Yeonjun to continue pushing in.

Your mouth latches on Soobin's shoulder, biting on his open skin.

"Fuck!" They shouted in unison. Soobin felt the sting of your teeth sinking into his skin, but he tried to endure it. Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt how tight it was inside you.

The two males stilled for a while. Letting you get used to their sizes. Their shafts aren't a joke. Girthy. Long. Thick. Something that would definitely stretch out a tiny pussy like yours.

"'m sorry, angel, sorry..." Yeonjun whispers while he caresses your waist. Soobin planted kisses on the top of your head, your teeth are no longer sunken in his shoulder. But you felt weak between them. Your small and frail body looks like a paper stuck between two big books.

"B-bin, move. S-slowly please," you pleaded as you looked up at him.

His gaze softens as he looks at you. "Why do you have to beg so prettily? I might cum just looking at you," he says, catching his lower lip between his teeth. He then raised your leg once again and started to move slowly. His grunts, your whimpers, and the squelching sound resonate inside his room.

"Angel, who thought that selling a mere sandwich would end up with you being sandwiched between me and Soobin, hm? So fucking good," Yeonjun grunts as he starts to thrust from behind. "You're so tight, baby, fuck."

Soobin tried his very best to stay as quiet as possible, just letting small yet slutty moans, whines, and whimpers. The friction he felt from your wet pussy and Yeonjun's length at the same time was too much for him. He knows he won't last long, but he silently challenged himself not to cum yet.

"You're so greedy, princess. Look at you taking two cocks at the same time. Greedy and dirty."

"My angel is such a whore. A cock slut," Yeonjun snickers, grunting afterwards when he thrusts again.

"Tight virgin pussy."

Their words made you dizzy. Dizzy enough to unconsciously chant their names alternately. Your hands are flying everywhere, clawing and clutching anything within reach as they litter your body with a lot of red marks.

"Please please please wanna cum, please I wanna cum!"

"Oh, you're asking for permission?" Soobin questioned.

"Fuck, are you into begging, pretty?" Yeonjun grunts behind.

"P-please let me cum, I'm gonna-- please!"

You yelped when you end up squirting because of how they simultaneously thrust inside, making you feel stimulated.

"What a dirty girl, for real," Yeonjun sighs, kissing your shoulder.

"Wanna cum inside her, hyung," Soobin was gripping the plush of your thigh as he continuously thrust.

"N-no! Please! I'm not taking a p-pill!"

"Please baby, we'll take care of you, we promise," Yeonjun's hand wrapped around your neck, his thrusts becoming more sloppy.

"Please, wanna fill you. Wanna fill you so bad with my cum," Soobin's nails dug on your skin as he held your thigh tightly.

Yeonjun's grip on your neck made your mind cloudy, and you nodded at whatever they were saying. Not sure about what you were agreeing to.

"H-hold it, Bin, i-i'm close too."

You were a moaning mess. Dizzy, mind hazy, eyes cloudy. Your body was limping as you felt hot liquid spurting inside you, along with guttural moans and deep grunts coming from the two males.

"Sorry," you heard them apologize and slowly pull out before your eyes flutter.

Maybe this gift could be the best thing you ever receive in your entire life.

And a cleanly wrapped small box was sitting on the edge of Soobin's table.

@binniesbooks 2024

taglist: @babymochibeargyu @beomiracles @lizibizi @inkigayocamman @izzyy-stuff (tagging sum of my fave moots and friends 😖💞)

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 10 months ago

Note

what about edging eddie everytime he comes over to visit you? Grinding or sucking him off only to stop right before he comes every single time.

The way this has been SITTING in my ask box since August :(( I'm sorry. 💕🩷

Can this be bestfriend!Eddie? Because it screams best friend eddie.

The thought of edging Eddie just does something to me. He'd be so whiny about it too whispering to make him cum but you won't and he knows it too. His soft needy cries with that deep voice as your tongue teases his leaking tip. He gets so frustrated when he's about to spill his cum in the back of your throat but you pull him out everytime

Besfriend!Eddie munson x fem!reader

Not proofread.

Your friendship with Eddie was very special. You did everything together. Even fooled around when you got lonely or drunk. You had an agreement of "as long as everything is above the waist," it's okay. Sometimes, things did eventually happen.

You and him didn't date much, so you ended up learning how to give a blow job from him. You taught him how to eat pussy. You practiced on one another. You felt like it was only right to get some experience in for whenever someone asked either one of you out.

That's just how close you two were. It never felt weird or awkward, either. But those type moments only happened once you never spoke of them again. You just heavily made out a lot and did some heavy petting.

Not that you didn't enjoy feeling each other. You most definitely did. You guys felt kinda bad about not having much experience being your early twenties. At least you have one another he'd always reassured. Deep down, Eddie always wanted to make you his.

Now he likes to come over to your place on the weekends to watch a movie and eat junk food. Usually, he brings pizza and rents a terrible b-horror flick from family video.

A loud kick to your door startles you at, and you walk over to look out the peephole.

"Pizza is here, sweetheart." Eddie greeted you with a big smile as you answered your door. That smile soon faltered when he noticed what you were wearing.

You never cared if Eddie saw you naked. You've seen him naked plenty of times when he was drunk off his ass and needed a shower. You opened the door in nothing but a thin tank top and panties that hugged your ass just right. He immediately gulped at the sight.

"It's about time Munson what movie did you pick." You giggled taking the food from his hands.

He clears his throat. "Oh, uhhhhhh, Slumber party massacre." He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to avoid looking so flustered.

"Slumber pary massacre--the movie with the chicks in lingerie getting slaughtered?" You eyed him and got plates ready for the pizza.

"Not surprised that's the movie you'd pick."

You don't really notice how he's looking at you. You're too focused getting the food ready for you and him to eat. You moved around your apartment, and his eyes followed your every step.

Eddie couldn't stop staring at you. His eyes fixed on the curve of your ass and the way your nipples were poking through the material of your shirt. He tries to discreetly readjust himself, so you see the obvious growing buldge in his jeans.

"Yeah, well, we've watched everything else in that video store." Eddie looked down at his feet with his hands in his pockets.

His cock was throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. He stood there by the door, not moving a muscle. He thought if he didn't move, you'd forget he was even there.

"Hey Eddie." You called out softly to him.

His head perks up and his eyes meet yours. "W-whats up?"

"Come sit with me." You pat the empty spot next to you on the couch.

The pizza and drinks were already laid out and ready to eat. Eddie couldn't focus on anything but you. His mind races at all the possibilities of taking you right there on the couch. Your pussy getting split open around his cock. Your cute, soft little moans in his ear. Your juices dripping down your thighs while he fucked you roughly in your living room. Your poor neighbors hearing your cries of pleasure.

The movie was playing, but he has no idea what's even happening or cares for that matter. His eyes kept glancing over at you. You're sitting with your legs criss-cross while eating your third slice of pizza. He had one foot propped up on your coffee table as he licked his lips watching you.

Your eyes focus on the shitty movie he rented. You were right he did pick this out to watch half-naked women run around in the skimpiest lingerie. The killer having a guitar as a weapon now makes perfect sense now, too. Truthfully. It was the closest thing to porn Eddie could get you to watch with him. He was a bit of perv, and he'll admit that.

He eyes keep wandering over to your figure from the swell of your breasts down to your thighs. His head leaned forward to get a tiny glimpse of what's between your legs. Your underwear doing you no justice in covering much of anything at all. He smiled to himself. his mouth watered, remembering the night he tasted you.

You could feel his eyes on you practically all night long. He was acting a little funny the second he walked through the front door. You chalked it up to him working too much and needing some rest. You tried to ignore his lingering stare. You just couldn't any longer.

"You okay?" You looked over at him. You noticed he hasn't eaten one single slice of pizza. "You seem a little...antsy I guess."

He coughed and tried to play it cool. "Me? No, no, I'm fine."

You squinted at him. "I don't believe you."

"Alright, fine." He threw his back and groaned. "it's you."

"Me?" You asked, confused. "What about me?"

"It's....you. it's always you. You always make me so hot and I feel like anytime I'm around you I can't even fucking think straight." Eddie confessed. He was speaking so fast that you barely had time to register what he was saying.

You sit there quietly, not saying a word yet. You don't want to misinterpret what he's trying to tell you. even though you have a pretty good idea of what it's about.

"I--look. Listen--Touch me. Please. We don't have to have sex. Just touch me. Make me beg. I don't even have to cum. I just need to feel you." He voice sounded so desperate.

His eyes looked into yours, and you couldn't deny him. His brown eyes are looking deep into yours. You nod and move to sit in his lap with your back against his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. Your ass pressing right up against his cock. You could feel just how hard he is.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" You whispered.

"Didn't want to make shit uncomfortable." His voice muffled as he peppered light kisses on your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed when his soft lips touch your skin. "You'd never make me uncomfortable we've done lots of things together before."

"I know I just never want you to feel like I'm using you." Eddie leaves a trail of wet kisses from your neck and down to your shoulder. You moved your head back to give him better access.

His hips lift slightly to rub up into your ass. He cursed under his breath, and your hands went down to grip on his thighs

"Fuck sweetheart grind on me." He said breathlessly.

You nod and move your hips back and forth in his lap. Your ass rubbing on his cock over his jeans. His arms wrapping around you tighter as he buries his face in your neck.

"That's it, sweetheart grind that cute ass on me." Eddie grunted and bucked up his hips for some added friction.

You pressed down harder on his cock. Your hips swiveling in a circular motion. He's whimpering in your ear. His legs bounce up and down while you grind on him. You dig your nails into his thighs to hold on tight.

"Fuck please---id do anything for you sweetheart. Anything." Eddie rasped in your ear. "You can have my cock whenever you want it."

"You think I could take it?" You teased and pushed your ass on him hard, making him jerk.

"Baby ill make sure you can take it. Y-you're such a good girl." He groaned and grinded himself up against your ass.

You continued moving back and forth on his cock. You could feel his breathing quickening just by how his chest pressed into your back.

"I know how messy you can get. Thinking about having you squirting all over me." His voice is shakey as your hips switch to moving back in a circular motion again.

You whimper at his words and feel yourself growing wetter. Your panties are completely soaked through. His voice is trembling, and his arms are constricting around you. There is a small wet patch forming on his jeans from the mess you've created in your panties and his precum.

"Mmm, I'm so close." He moans, and you slow down.

You stopped your movements for a few seconds, and Eddie whines. He swallows and tries to control himself.

After a few more minutes, you start moving. His cock is so sensitive and begging for release. He needs to cum so bad but loves the feeling of you edging him. The feeling of getting so close only for you to stop is driving him crazy.

You speed up and your ass grinds down on his cock. Your pace went from fast to slow anytime he got close again. You kept getting him close to the edge only to stop or slow down. it was almost too painful for him to keep going but liked it. His face is covered in sweat.

"let me cum." Eddie beggee and bit down on your shoulder. You whimpered from the pain.

Shaking your head no and grind your ass down on his cock. The material of his boxers scratched against him. He was becoming needy for you the more you teased him.

"Fuck please let me cum baby---please." He kept begging. Your pussy was aching for some type of relief. His breath tickled your throat while he spoke. "Shit I'm gonna cum."

"Oh," your eyebrows shoot up, and you stop. You moved his arms from around your waist and went to sick back down in your spot.

"I-i thought." He swallows and sinks back. His legs spread wide open. The look he gave you almost made you feel guilty for stopping.

You could see that wet patch on his lap that's much more noticeable than you thought. His painfully hard cock straining against his pants.

"You said you didn't have to cum. Remember?" You teased and went back to watching the movie.

Eddie smirked and moved to scoot closer to you." If I make you cum around my fingers will you let make me cum?" He whispered seductively.

"Maybe... we'll see how good you make me feel first."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader

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rambling-at-midnight · 4 months ago

Text

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Civilian!Reader. No pronouns so can be read as any gender!

Summary: Meet-ugly with the Red Hood due to a gas station robbery gone wrong.

Word count: ~2k

(I'm branching out to other fandoms, apparently. Let me know if you want a sequel. Enjoy!)

You weren't born in Gotham, so it sometimes still surprises you that you had adjusted so well to its particular brand of crazy.

You're from somewhere a little more south of New Jersey, although most places in the U.S. are a little south of Jersey unless you're a lobster farmer from Maine or a tree hugger from Vermont.

Both of those descriptions sound critical, but they weren't meant to be. Right about now you're seriously considering taking up lobster farming.

No one sane ever moves to Gotham. Everyone knows the stories, and even if most of the country didn't believe all of them, most people aren't stupid enough to disregard them. And you certainly weren't stupid. But rent was dirt cheap for a city, and so was tuition for GU's vet school. So you thought to yourself, "How bad could it really be," bought pepper spray and a taser, and accepted the admissions offer.

You'd always liked iced coffee more than green bean casserole and peach cobbler, anyway.

Reading news articles hadn't been enough to prepare you for the utter insanity of Gotham City, unfortunately. But you adapted. You always did. Upgraded your taser, memorized the bus schedule, learned the less sketchy areas of town, did your best not to get caught outside after dark. Kept your head down, ignored the crime lords and genetic experiments gone wrong and lunatics and vigilantes scurrying along the rooftops, and you'd survived for almost two years without many incidents.

But you'd gone to the library because you were critically unable to work in your apartment, gotten distracted by panicking about how little you really knew about next week's test content, and stared at the pages of your textbook for almost an hour as you fought back tears. So now you were running late and it was dark as you walked home because the buses were down. Of course they were. That lunatic that thought he was a crocodile had smashed a bunch last week and they hadn't been replaced yet.

Goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Keep your head down. Criminals target the people that look most obviously paranoid first.

You're just burnt out. Severely. But the end of your sophomore year of veterinary school was looming, which meant you would have a relaxing three-month vacation before the next one started.

And no, you weren't thinking about next year's summer 'vacation' of clinicals. Because if this year was bad after a year of summer vacation, what will it do to you to have no break at all?

That's a future you problem, thankfully.

You're still feeling sorry for yourself when you reach the gas station right next to your apartment building. You walk right by it, remember what's in your fridge or pantry—thanks, grocery store self, thinking you don't need any snacking foods—then backtrack.

Since starting vet school, you've tried to be healthier with your eating habits. Brains lacking in nutrients absorb information less efficiently, after all. But you're still a sucker for Cheez-Its and energy drinks.

You won't drink it tonight, obviously.

Right as you put the items on the counter for the bored-looking cashier to scan the barcodes, something cold presses to your temple.

The cashier freezes, eyes blown wide with panic.

"Easy there," someone says to your left. A man, voice oily in a way that sets your teeth on edge immediately. "Do what I say, or I blow their brains out, then yours."

A gun.

A gun is pressed to your head.

Because of course it is. A shitty way to end a shitty day. You should have kept walking right past the gas station.

Before you moved to Gotham, you might have screamed and panicked, but you know better now. You know to stay calm.

You clench your fists to stop them from shaking so noticeably, but otherwise don't move. You've seen hostage situations before, because this is Gotham, but you've never been the hostage.

The gun feels heavy. And so cold, like it's sapping all the heat from your skin.

"Okay, dude," the cashier said soothingly. "You want the money in the register?"

The robber scoffs. "Obviously."

"All right." The cashier's voice is even and soft, unthreatening. You wonder if training for situations like these are required for cashiers in Gotham. It certainly hadn't been for your old job, although that hadn't been in New Jersey, and it hadn't been at a twenty-four seven gas station, either. "I need to get a key to unlock it, okay? So I'm reaching below the counter."

"Just get the key," the robber demands. The gun shifts against your temple. You fantasize for a half-second about acting like an action hero, disarming him and taking him down all on your own. But you're not a vigilante and you've never been in a real-life fight before. You don't think you're fast enough to get out of the barrel's way before he pulls the trigger. If you managed to shove it away, what if he fired and hit the cashier instead?

Then comes the sound of another gun clicking.

Great, you think half-hysterically. Just what we need. Even more deadly weapons.

"Lower the gun," growls a modulated voice, and everyone freezes.

The Red Hood is standing behind the robber, also pointing a gun to his head like the meme of people lined up in a church with guns aimed at the person in front of them.

The robber lets his gun dip a little bit. Distracted enough that it's not pressed directly to your temple anymore.

Not to brag, but you recover the quickest. It's probably the adrenaline.

Thank God you keep your keychain in hand while out at night. Your fingers shake, but you have your pepper spray up in a second, and the robber's turning to look at your sudden movement when you squeeze down on the nozzle.

The spray hits him directly in the eyes, and his howl of pain is immediate. But you don't stop spraying, even when the cashier starts to splutter and your own eyes water.

The gun goes off, once in the robber's hands, and a second time when it hits the ground because he's dropped it in favor of clutching his burning face.

You stop the stream of pepper spray, because now the air is spicy when you breathe, but can't force yourself to lower your hand. The Red Hood quickly handcuffs the would-be robber, which is only difficult because he's clawing at his eyes in pain, and executes a tricky-looking martial arts move to get him on the ground.

Despite everything, you're impressed.

The Red Hood is bigger than maybe anyone you've ever seen before. He could have punched the robber in half like paper, probably, but you appreciate the finesse a little bit more.

"Hey." A gentle voice, and gentle hands, take the pepper spray out of your grip. "Quick thinking there," you're complimented. By the fucking Red Hood, one of Gotham's most infamous crime lords. The first time you read about him in the papers, he was chopping off people's heads, and every story since has been similarly alarming. But he's not supposed to be here; the Red Hood stays in Park Row, which locals call Crime Alley, apparently, and you've always steered very clear from that part of town.

"Can you look at me?"

You do. Maybe he won't chop off your head if you listen well enough.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. That... does not compute.

The Red Hood doesn't save people. And he doesn't leave Crime Alley. So what's he doing outside of Crime Alley, saving people?

The robber is still screaming, eyes screwed up in pain. He's handcuffed on the ground.

"You should probably let him wash out his eyes, at least," you tell the cashier. "Pepper spray is pretty painful." You'd sprayed yourself once out of curiosity, realized how much it burned, then sprinted to the shower to rinse it off. Which, pro tip: not a good move, especially with warm water. Water reactivates it by opening your pores, or something, and when you're in the shower it just spreads all over your body.

Your eyes are watering. The Red Hood sees that, because he tells you, "Let's get some air," and tugs you out of the gas station.

He's right. The cool night air does feel good. You blink away the stinging in your eyes and he repeats, "Are you okay?" His voice is robotic from the mask, but kind of pleasant at the same time. You'd never guess just from listening to him that he's a killer.

"Yes," you say automatically. "Thanks," you add. You're lightheaded for some reason; you sway on your feet.

"You sure?" he asks critically. "You look... pale." Judging by the pause, 'pale' wasn't the word he really wanted to say. The red helmet tilts. "You weren't shot, were you?"

"I don't think so," you shrug. Then you look down at yourself and realize that there's a large bloodstain on your hip. "Never mind. I think I was."

"Jesus!" he yelps at the sight. It's kind of funny, actually, this grown man built like a brick shithouse yelping at the sight of blood. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug and peel your sticky shirt away from the wound to inspect it. "I thought I just bumped something." Sure enough, it's just a graze. You weren't sure which shot had hit you, but you'd honestly been injured worse. Plus, supervising surgeries at the animal clinic you'd worked at for years has desensitized you to the sight of blood. Maybe it's also altered your perception on what 'serious injuries' count as; the amount of times you've been bitten by startled dogs...

"You need to go to the hospital."

"It's just a scratch," you argue. "I can't go to the hospital. I need to feed my cat."

"Your cat can wait. You're bleeding a lot."

"I'm already late, and if I miss dinner, he'll start pissing all over my apartment."

The Red Hood sighs. "Where do you live?"

Your mouth opens to answer on instinct. You snap it shut just in time and glare. "Why?"

"So I can feed your cat for you while you go to the hospital."

It's nice of him to offer, but... "No."

"No?"

Maybe it's not the best idea to refuse Gotham's most prominent crime lord, but it would also be pretty stupid to tell a strange man where you live. Especially when he happens to be said crime lord.

"Look," you sigh. "I'm a vet student. I have surgical tools at home to treat myself with, and I promise, under the blood, the bullet barely hit me. I've been hurt worse by Chihuahuas that hate the vet."

"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"

"It's been a long day," you sigh. "I really, really just want to go home." And he's blocking the path. Your apartment building is directly behind him, just calling your name.

"At least let me walk you to your building." He holds his hands up at your suspicious look and assures you, "I won't ask for the apartment number."

"I'm literally right there." You point.

He turns, sees how close you are to being home, and says, "Seriously?"

"Seriously. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were some kind of villain."

"I'm reformed," he grumbles.

"Well, good for you."

You make sure you have your keys and your wallet, then step around him and make it all the way to your building's door before he calls, "Wait!" The Red Hood's jogging to catch up to you, holding the box of Cheez-Its and energy drink you'd almost died for. "You forgot these," he says.

"Thanks," you say, taking them. It would have been a shame to waste four dollars.

"You're welcome," he says. There's something odd about his voice, but you attribute it to the mask, scan to be let into the building, and make sure it's fully closed before heading to the elevator.

Your cat is unhappy about dinner being an hour late. He weaves between your feet, making his protests loudly and viscerally known. You wince. He's worse than the dogs that bark in this building sometimes.

Your poor neighbors.

You give him his wet food, then hop in the shower to clean off your hip. It bled a lot, but once the blood washes away, it's actually not as bad as you thought. You've stitched up animals before, but never yourself, and decide against trying tonight. If it heals a little unevenly, who cares? No one will see it, anyway.

You pad the wound with gauze, tape it over, and fall into bed. Staring at the ceiling, you're forced to admit to yourself that you may be looking up more in the future. Just to see if anyone in a red helmet is running on a rooftop nearby.

It was a long day. But, strangely, almost dying wasn't the worst part of it.

Actually... it may have been the best part.

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #reader insert #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #meet ugly

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eleganzadellarosa · 11 months ago

Text

pairing: newlywed!mingyu x newlywed!fem reader

genre: SMut 😏 and fluff

warnings: MDNI (kinda drunk sex? definitely pussy drunk Gyu, dacryphilia, overstimulation, pleasuredom! gyu, size kink (it’s obvious), daddy kink, breeding kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), slight exhibitionism? slight dumbification, pet names (baby, angel, princess, pretty))

word count: 1.8K+

A/N: just a lil something because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. As always, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

For better, for worse

In sickness and in health

Till death do us part

The words flowed so naturally between the both of you, waiting for this day to come after being engaged for a year. It’s not like you weren’t used to kissing him, but this kiss was special. A kiss that only happened once if things went well. A kiss to be cherished for the rest of your lives.

Everything had gone according to plan, the day was absolutely perfect. Mingyu was your soulmate, you clicked the first time you met and the rest was history. He knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. You never thought you’d find someone like him, but now he was yours till death did you part.

There was something so seductive and attractive about knowing you were his and him, yours. A promise of loyalty and love. He sat across from you sipping on his third bottle of soju, looking absolutely ravishing. He ditched the suit jacket and tie that he had worn just a few hours earlier and the first few buttons of his white collared shirt were undone.

Maybe it was the vibes of today or the amount of shots you downed, but the way he looked had you feeling feral. It came from deep within, like the only thing that would help is if he fucked you so hard you would feel it in your throat.

“Whatcha staring at angel?”

His words snapped you out of it, his voice not helping your problem. His chest peaked through the open fabric, so tan…you wanted to run your tongue over it. He leaned forward, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Baby, come talk to me.” He patted his left thigh, beckoning you over. Was he really going to have you sit on his lap out in public?

You shakily stood from your seat, thighs rubbing together to hopefully do anything to stop this agonizing throb. He looked up at you but just barely due to his tall stature. You sat down, his arm wrapping around your waist and his hand softly patting your butt.

“What’s going on pretty? What’s on your mind hmm?” He planted a kiss on your lips, patiently waiting for you to answer.

You could easily just tell him the issue and he would immediately take you home to fix it. Yet, the feeling was so overwhelming that even him doing nothing, his cologne filling your nose, had you dripping wet.

He ran his other hand under your dress and up your thigh, making you pant. “Just as I thought. Need Daddy to get you out of here?”

You nodded as you played with the collar of his shirt, a blush creeping on your cheeks. He quickly called the waiter for the bill as you returned to your seat. You gathered up your things as Mingyu paid and followed him to the car. He opened the door for you like the gentleman he is and even leaned in to buckle your seatbelt.

He got in on the other side, smirking when he saw your hands pressed together between your thighs. God why was this so hard? You were on the way to the hotel Mingyu rented out for the two of you; all you had to do was wait.

He saw how desperate you looked as you tried your very best to contain the pulse running through your pussy. Mingyu thinks you’re so cute when you get this horny and he loved being the one to fix it for you. There was a red light and a few cars in front when the idea popped in his mind.

“Lay your seat back and spread your legs for me angel.”

You looked over at him confused, only because your mind didn’t fully register what he said. Your body started to move when his hand worked your dress up your legs. You’d already changed out of your wedding dress for the reception and opted for something shorter and more form fitting.

You followed his orders and laid the seat back slightly and spread your legs wide, or as much as the car would allow. He licked his lips and moved your panties to the side. You could’ve made him crash with the way your pussy glistened under the passing street lights. You were absolutely soaked.

No need to wet his fingers before hand, being able to plunge two thick fingers inside you with the utmost ease. Your jaw fell slack, a moan escaping your lips.

“Fuck baby you almost made Daddy crash, you’re so wet.”

You looked over at him with heavy lids. He tried so hard to keep his eyes on the road, but you had a tight grip on his arm as you bucked your hips up to ride his hand. You were moaning and whimpering with how good it felt at this angle and with the width of his fingers. He pumped them faster, feeling your walls contract and your pussy leak more slick.

“Be a good girl for Daddy and cum on his fingers.”

He used his thumb to rub circles on your clit and that’s what does it. Your whole body tensed up and you let out breathy moans as you came down from your high. You hadn’t noticed you were parked in the hotel lot until you see Mingyu turned in his seat watching you.

“Gyu, I…I need more.” You clawed at his arm desperately and his brows furrowed.

“Trust me, with how hard you have me right now, I wouldn’t want anything else.”

He sucked your juices off his digits and quickly got out the car to rush and open your door. He helped you fix your dress and kissed your forehead as he lead you to the check-in desk. The hotel looked fancy from the outside so you could only imagine what the rooms looked like.

Not even two seconds after you walked in did he have you in his arms bridal style, taking you to the bedroom. Guess a room tour would have to wait. He laid you down on the edge of the bed gently and sunk down on his knees. He tugged on the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs. He pressed your legs apart, big strong arms holding you in place.

“Look at this pretty pussy all for me…” he was in complete awe of how tasty you looked. If there was one thing he loved doing, it was eating you out. You tasted better than anything he’s ever had, Mingyu thinks.

He licked a fat, long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your legs tried to move down but he was not letting up on his grip. He was eating you out so messily, spitting and licking everything back up; fingers playing with your leaking hole. He slurped on your clit then moved down to fuck his tongue into you, his nose brushing against your bundle of nerves.

Your chest heaved as you cried out his name, hands tangling in his dark locks. Your ears picked up on how he moaned too, you know he was having the time of his life. You felt that familiar tightness in your stomach, signaling your orgasm was coming soon. You were tugging on his hair now, ripping deep groans from him.

“G-gyu gonna cum!” Your head felt fuzzy. You were almost sure you were going to faint from the pleasure.

As impossible as it sounded, he felt himself get harder. “Go ahead pretty, cum all over my tongue.”

A few more curls of his fingers and sucks on your clit, you came violently on his face. He stopped after you settled down and stood up, chin glistening. It was him now who felt like he couldn’t wait any longer. He removed his clothes and yours after. He pushed you up further on the bed and rested his hips in between your legs. His dick felt warm and heavy against you and you were already just as turned on as you were a few minutes ago.

“You’re so beautiful baby, I love you so much.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he rolled his hips into you. He looked down as he slowly inserted his dick in you, moaning at the feeling of your walls so tight around him. “Fuck, I don’t know if I can go slow, you feel too good.”

“Don’t go slow, fuck me dumb Gyu.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He set a vicious pace from the start, stretching you out deliciously. No matter how many times you had sex with him, he seemed to never fail to open you up. You grabbed onto his biceps for stability, not able to reach anything else with how wide his body is.

If he’d known how intoxicated you would have him, he wouldn’t have drank so much soju. You were his everything, his world, his partner for life. You looked so gorgeous underneath him, writhing in pleasure from his deep and fast thrusts. He hoped this feeling never faded and you loved him as much as you do now for always and forever.

You sounded so pretty whimpering and stuttering out his name. Your knees were back at your chest as he pinned you under his large frame, making you feel so small in comparison. This new angle had him hitting new depths. He maintained eye contact as he moaned and sped up this thrusts. You weren’t sure how much longer you would last. Your mind was slowly going blank the more he pressed down into you.

“S-so good Gyu, feels so good. W-wanna cum for D-daddy. Can I please cum?”

He noticed but the feeling hadn’t settled in your mind yet; tears were rolling down your cheeks. He never admitted it but this expression made you look ethereal. Mingyu loved seeing you cry from being fucked dumb on his dick. How did he get so lucky?

“My pretty princess…of course, fuuuck- today is your special day, you can cum as much as you want. I’ll give it to you all night.”

“Fill me up Gyu, wanna feel it in my tummy.”

His head was spinning; you were his kryptonite. His thrusts became sloppy, preparing for his release. “Want Daddy to fill you with his seed? Make your belly big with his baby?”

You looked at him with teary eyes, nodding frantically. How could he not cum seeing that? He shoved his fat dick deep in you, cumming in spurts as he felt you reach your climax with him. Your body was spasming against his, milking him for every drop. He pulled out slowly to watch his cum drip out. He scooped it up with his fingers and fucked it back into you, your pussy clenching from the sensitivity.

He got out of the bed to fetch a warm cloth to clean off the both of you before pulling you close to him under the blanket. You were already dozing off by the time he got settled but you know he’d be following close behind.

“Gyu?” You continued when he looked down at you with a hum. “Thank you for making today the best day ever.”

He sighed contently and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything for my amazing wife.”

#mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagines #mingyu smut #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu

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