#and also because i had it stuck in my head all last week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gojonanami · 11 months ago

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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞

❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞

✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K

It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter.

But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up.

It was him.

You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak.

“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises?

He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers.

“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,”

Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment.

He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,”

And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile.

Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped.

And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,”

And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze.

Fuck.

“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,”

You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—”

“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked.

And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break.

It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?”

He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?”

And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks.

“I would,”

And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile.

Fuck.

“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears.

But how can you be quiet?

The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck.

And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,”

And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass.

He’s huge.

The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.

“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—”

“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,”

“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?”

And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much.

He was too much.

“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,”

“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,”

“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?”

“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—”

And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns.

He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart.

That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up.

“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt.

He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store.

And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—”

“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care.

And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump.

You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush.

How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,”

“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?”

And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling.

“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.”

~~~~

The two of you had fallen into a pattern.

And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…

You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started.

“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin.

“What are you—”

“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,”

“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type.

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?”

“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“

“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,”

“Mahito—“

“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money, “be a doll, won’t you?”

Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?”

You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?”

His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice.

“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?

Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?”

“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.”

“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling.

This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger.

“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods.

“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot.

“I will,”

“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.

“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip.

“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,”

And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.”

“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze.

No time like the present, right?

“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—”

And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—”

“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,”

“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—”

“Have another lesson?”

And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you.

He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue.

And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt.

Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was.

And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—”

“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,”

“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release.

One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure.

“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you.

“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks.

His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much.

You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light.

And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach.

Your mouth runs dry.

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought.

Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you.

“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it.

And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze.

His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch.

His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away.

He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—”

And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal.

Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod.

He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out.

“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.

“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!”

And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you.

“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out, “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?”

“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder.

“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him.

Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—”

“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls.

The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt.

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick.

“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again.

God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour.

~~~

The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise.

“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.”

You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?”

You were picking up your boyfriend.

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.”

note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!

tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious

#sab [mlist]#choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo x you #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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prettycottagequeer · 9 months ago

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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

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'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body.

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper.

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding.

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim.

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now.

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.”

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.”

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand.

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know.

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.”

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?”

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.”

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?”

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.”

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.”

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while.

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it.

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like.

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm.

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt.

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault.

Then the kiss had happened.

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt.

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?”

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that.

But now you do.

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.”

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward.

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?”

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver.

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.”

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .”

“Hear that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?”

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.”

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.”

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.”

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.”

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone.

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.”

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you.

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns.

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.”

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates.

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick.

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you.

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do.

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets.

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.”

Joel squeezes your breast as his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses.

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you, fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time.

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously.

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss.

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.”

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him.

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile.

“Inside me, daddy, please.”

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—”

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach.

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him.

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver.

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.”

“Don’t have to what?”

“Send the video.”

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.”

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.”

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger.

“I guess I will.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tw daddy kink #tlou fanfic #the last fo us fanfiction #hbo tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic

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mygnolia · 4 months ago

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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki [TEASER]

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, comfort ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 6-10k (est.)

⭒ RELEASE DATE -› IT'S HEREEEEEEEE YAYYYY

⭒ REN SAYS... spiderman niki is a need hes so cute i love riki sm 😕🫵 also poll voted for this and tbh i just wanna write downbad riki LOLZ | LIBRARY

“God, I don’t think you can look at her any more down bad than you already do right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he watches you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last night. Let me have this before I die in a week.”

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair. “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up to her balcony in my suit. Do that cheesy upside kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spiderman thing, but prom definitely.”

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, his eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” Is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah- whatever confidence he had 37 minutes ago really isn’t serving him well in this moment, because frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes.

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it, really- because you don’t really have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to someone I know- someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from overthinking if he keeps wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM ☐ talk to ____ regularly ☐ don't make it awkward ☐ be..cute?

THERE IS NO OFFICIAL TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC, join my perm taglist to be notified when this fic comes out!

if you’d like to proofread this, i’d love for someone to join my chaotic half done doc and offer some feedback/advice!

permanent fic taglist (send ask to be added) : @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog

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vauxxy · 11 months ago

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SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

#luke castellan enemies to lovers #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader smut #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo x reader #pjo tv show

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 8 months ago

Text

Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him.

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache.

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right?

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but…

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it.

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her.

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.”

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs.

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?”

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.”

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him.

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.”

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out.

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table.

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober?

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do?

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you.

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it.

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink.

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked.

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared.

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.”

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you.

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid.

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible.

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth.

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused.

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader.

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him.

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -”

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you.

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question.

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly.

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.”

Oh.

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you.

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky.

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.”

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh.

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you.

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental?

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command.

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile.

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered.

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest.

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right?

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again.

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head.

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather.

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise.

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you.

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle.

Oh, he liked you a lot.

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it.

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you.

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch.

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked.

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered.

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture.

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books.

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer.

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move.

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers.

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now?

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too.

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now.

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises.

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out.

“Yep.”

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?”

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it.

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about.

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair.

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low.

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star.

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled.

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered.

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath.

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone.

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face.

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“My shirt,” he stated.

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.”

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips.

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again.

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.”

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it.

“Y/N?”

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it.

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool.

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts.

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request.

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood.

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right?

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight.

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him.

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive.

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?”

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying.

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.”

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began.

You started to smile.

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.”

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.”

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back.

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.”

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader

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menagerofmischief · 1 month ago

Note

Can I please have cold stuffed cherry tomatoes, sausage rolls, tomato soup and kebab with boba, rose and mocha coffee served by Lando Norris? And a little dessert too 💕 my favorite track is Zandvoort

stuffed cherry tomatoes sugar daddy cold appetizer rough sex sausage rolls "I'll make it fit" tomato soup "Running away from my dick? I don't think so" kebab "Look at that, my cock is splitting you in half" boba anal rose spanking mocha coffee degradation dessert aftercare + matcha toys

Lando Norris x sugar baby!girlfriend!reader

TW: unprotected sex, cumming inside, PiA, anal, fingering, toys , size kink

WC: 2.1k

A/N: sugar daddy lando implied but not specified. also anal is like my biggest opp so I hope this doesn't suck

I stared at the track ahead of me from the comfortable space of McLaren’s hospitality. Everyone was quiet from the moment the last lap started, waiting for the result. I twisted the Cartier love bracelet Lando bought me a few weeks ago, insisting I needed to match with him, as I watched the race.

But my thoughts were somewhere else. All I could think about while watching Lando approaching the finish, heading for a win, was a conversation the two of us had last week at Lando’s (mine as well, I suppose) Monaco apartment.

✿ ✿ ✿

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Lando said, breaking the comfortable silence we had fallen into right after sex, both of us too tired to move.

“Oh, have you?” I asked, sucking in a sharp breath when I felt his fingers run through my folds, collecting some of his cum that spilled from me. “Lando,” I said, my voice breathless as his fingers slipped and moved down to my ass, rubbing around my other hole.

He hummed, his fingers, lubed with his own cum still tracing circles around my anal opening. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you here.” He said, his voice deep and dripping with desire. “Taking you fully. Your ass is the only part of you I haven’t fucked yet, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying my best to keep myself composed. “I’ve never done that before.”

He growled, placing a kiss on the side of my neck. “That makes it all the sweeter, baby. That I could be the first to have you like that.”

I looked at him, we were laying on our sides, facing each other. His eyes were dark, intensely focused on me. I was quiet for a moment, thinking about his proposition.

Lando waited, patiently. But his hand never moved away.

Finally, I swallowed, opening my mouth to speak. “I’ll make you deal,” I said, my voice cracking. “You win the race next week, and I’ll let you fuck my ass.”

Lando smirked, moving his fingers away from my hole, and grabbing my ass. “Deal,” he said, the tone of his voice letting me know he was already planning the whole thing out in his head.

✿ ✿ ✿

The whole garage erupted in cheers when Lando crossed the finish line. Everyone was up on their feet and screaming in happiness as the signs displayed Lando as the winner. Bringing him another 25 points and further confirming McLaren’s position in the constructors championship.

I was still lost inside of my own head as I made my way outside just in time to see Lando getting out of his car. He took off his helmet and balaclava, shaking his head to move his hair that was stuck to his forehead.

He turned towards the crowd and his eyes met mine. A smile stretched over his lips as he ran up to me and hugged me over the fence. His hands wrapped around me possessively, his lips brushing my ear. “I hope you’re ready for tonight,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “Because I’m excited for my reward.”

He pulled away, lips drawn in a smirk and eyes gleaming. Lando leaned down, giving me a hard kiss before moving along to shake hands with the rest of his team and then going to do interviews.

✿ ✿ ✿

Lando was impatient. I knew that from the moment he found me after the interview and dragged me back to the car, throwing some bullshit line about how he was too tired to go clubbing and would rather have a nice evening in, to his friends.

His hand stayed on my thigh the whole time he was driving us back to the hotel, making me squirm in my seat, and once we made it to the elevator his lips were on me as soon as the door closed.

“Lan,” I said, trying to catch my breath as the elevator finally came to our floor. “Come on, this is our floor.”

Lando dragged me out the moment that the elevator doors opened, his grip tight around my wrist. He swiped the card and pushed me inside of the door, slamming the door shut.

“Fuck, you don’t know how long I wainted for this.” He said, pressing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss as he groped my breasts. “Been hard ever since I got out of the fucking car.”

His fingers moved to unzip my dress, fingers fumbling with the zipper before he roughly tugged at it and the sound of material ripping filled the room.

“Lando!” I said, as he pushed what was no longer a wearable dress down my body and onto the floor. “The dress -”

He cut me off by roughly spanking my ass, the sound of it echoing through the room. “I bought it, I can rip it.” He growled, his hands squeezing my ass. He pushed my panties off, his fingers dipping between my ass cheeks and then he froze and I knew he felt it.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes meeting mine, the expression on his face unreadable. “What’s this baby?” He asked, his fingers brushing the edge of the butt plug I was wearing.

I giggled, placing my hands on his chest, my fingers working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s say,” I started, pushing his shirt off his body and running my hands over his naked chest. “I was confident you were going to win today.”

Lando groaned, leaning towards me enough for his lips to brush mine but not actually kissing me. “I’m going to destroy you,” he said, his voice rough and leaving no room for argument.

Before I could even begin to think of my reply Lando pushed me towards the bed. He pulled off his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, before sitting down on the bed. I looked at him, confused but the confusion was quickly gone when he pulled me over his lap.

“Lan, what are you doing?” I asked, not entirely used to this position. Sure, he had spanked me over his knee before but I was totally unprepared this time. He brought one of his hands down roughly, smacking one of my ass cheeks, making me yelp.

“That’s for making me wait.” He said, then hit my other cheek with enough force to make me jolt slightly forward. “And that’s for being a naughty girl and wearing a butt plug under your dress this whole time without telling me.”

He spread my ass cheeks and for a second he was silent before he spat between them, causing me to gasp at the feeling. “Look at you,” he said, his fingers running along my ass, collecting some of his spit. “Such a dirty little whore - and all for me.”

His fingers wrapped around the top of the plug, before he pulled it out of me, making me whine at the loss of fullness. I heard squirting of liquid and barely managed to turn around enough to see Lando putting lube on his fingers.

With no warning he pushed two of his fingers inside of my ass, replacing the plug. He started thrusting them into me slowly, dragging out each movement. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me and take my cock?” He asked, slightly speeding up the movement of his fingers.

I nodded, my hair falling over my eyes and blocking my vision. “Yes!” I whined, feeling my clit rub against his leg when he flexed his thigh, making me even more desperate. “Please Lando, need your cock! Need you to fuck my ass.”

That seemed to be enough for him. Wasting no time, Lando pulled me up and manhandled me onto the beg, pushing me onto my hands and knees. He stood behind me, gently rubbing one of his hands along my back while he squirted lube onto his dick with the other.

Once he lubed himself up, he moved the hand on my back so it was holding my waist, and then started slowly pushing himself inside of me.

The head of his cock slipped in and I found myself moaning out into the pillow below me. “Hurts!” I whined, because while I had stretched my ass a bit to prepare for this particular thing I had forgotten exactly how big Lando was.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, the dominant facade cracking. I knew that if I wanted to stop he would, no questions asked, but that wasn’t what I wanted.

I shook my head, “No, don’t stop.”

He chuckled, slightly gripping my waist. “Then what’s the problem, baby?”

“Too big!”

“Too big?” He laughed, his tone mocking. “Oh, don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll make it fit.”

He waited a moment before pushing himself inside an inch more. I moaned at the feeling of him stretching my ass but the moan was quickly replaced by a scream as he roughly thrust the rest of his length into me.

Lando’s hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head up from the pillow I had buried it into. “See, I told you it would fit. I’ll always fit in you, you’re my whore afterall. Made to take my dick perfectly.”

He started out with an experimental thrust and when I moaned he began slowly speeding up. “Fuck, look at that,” Lando groaned. “My cock is splitting you in half.”

His thrusts became rougher and faster, his slapping against mine with each thrusts, his balls hitting against my clit. The stimulation was increasing and I hadn’t even realized I was trying to push myself towards the headboard until Lando’s arm wrapped around my stomach and he pulled me backwards, impaling me on his dick.

“Running away from my dick baby?” He questioned, his voice holding a mocking edge. “I don’t think so.”

I felt like my body was burning from all the stimulation I was experiencing and when Lando’s hand sneaked around my body and his finger started rubbing my clit my arms turned into jelly. No longer having the strength to support my upper body, I let myself fall deeper into the mattress, my face buried in the pillow.

“Lando, so good!” I whined, the sound of my voice muffled by the pillow. “Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

Lando’s fingers started rubbing circled on my clit faster, his hips speeding up as well, his thrusts becoming feral and desperate as he brought me closer to my orgasm while also chasing his own.

I knew Lando was close when I felt him twist inside of me. One of his hands grasped my hair, lifting my head up. “Cum for me, baby!” He said with a slight growl.

That was all it took to tip me over the edge and I was cumming, tightening around nothing as Lando filled my ass up with his cum.

“Fuck baby, that was so hot!” Lando said, pulling his softening dick out of me with a wet pop once he slipped all the way outside. “Think we can do it again sometimes?”

“Yeah,” I said, finally allowing my body to collapse onto the bed. “We should definitely do it again sometimes.”

I heard shuffling and felt Lando getting off the bed. He slipped inside the bathroom, leaving the door open and then I heard the sound of water running.

He came back, offering me his hands and I grabbed them, allowing him to pull me up into a sitting position, slightly wincing at the ghost of pain. “I don’t think I can quiet walk yet, Lan.”

“That’s okay, baby.” He offered me a gentle smile before picking me up. Lando carried me to the bathroom and then gently put me down into the bathtub.

I moved a bit forward, making space for him to get in behind me which he did, and then leaned back, pressing my back against his chest. I hummed at the warm water, running my hands through the bubbles.

“You even made bubbles,” I said, my voice hoarse from how loud I had been.

Lando laughed, his hands gently caressing my skin as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto my cheek. “Of course I did. How could I forget how important the bubbles are for my girl? I love you, baby.”

I smiled, melting back into him, “I love you too, Lan.”

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roosterforme · 7 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them.

At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.

He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?

Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you.

"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them.

When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.

You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.

He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.

----------------------------

You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."

To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.

"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."

Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice.

After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.

For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?

So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.

"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal.

Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them.

When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."

All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.

"His jet is so cool!"

"It's huge!"

"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"

"Can he send us more stuff?"

It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.

You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing.

It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.

My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...

"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long.

But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater.

Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?

When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more.

You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.

When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way.

Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.

And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous?

I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

----------------------------

Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.

Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.

"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."

He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.

This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.

Lt Bradshaw,

I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.

He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa.

But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.

He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.

Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.

Lt Bradshaw,

I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.

My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.

Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.

I hope you're doing well and staying safe.

Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.

----------------------------

You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.

Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'd like to take it further.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

-------------------------------

What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.

PART 4

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 9 months ago

Text

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Drabble

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, I've been quite busy with school so I hope you guys can be a little patient with content since I've been stuck on a slump and there's a lot of things I'm currently busy with at the moment because of school despite posting so much last week. Here's the weekly content and I hope you all enjoy :)

Also how do you all feel if I write works inspired by old gacha songs? And yes I used to be a gacha girly, it was some wild phase AHAHAHA

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

Brainrot, Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley who decided he wanted to get a divorce with you because things weren't working out between the both of you, so you had to share custody of your daughter.

You managed to get yourself together, having no time to grieve that part of you that he took with him because you had a little one depending on you. You loved that girl for all she was, however she brings you and Simon together.

Not that you resent her for it, god no, it wasn't her fault you and your husband couldn't see eye to eye.. that he refused to retire after everything, maybe it was just your paranoia getting to you. You couldn't stand the fear anymore, the fear of one day he's not the one you'll see when you open the front door but Price.

You forgot how difficult it was doing this on your own until now, you could barely get up, your head was actually killing you. You pushed through, making your daughter breakfast.

You felt like you were about to throw up, ears started to ring and everything else felt numb. The next thing you know was your eyes rolling back and everything going black, the last thing you heard was your toddler panicking, calling you over and over on the verge of crying.

All while you were unconscious, your little one runs to your room to look for your phone to call her dad.

"Listen I know we—" Simon said expecting you on the phone before getting cut off by his daughter..

"Dada! Momma's dead, dada. Momma's not breathing!" In a panic, she cried it out like a mantra. Simon was in a panic, he got up from where he was and was speeding towards what used to be your shared home.

The next thing you know, you were hearing the beeps of a heart monitor. All your senses were working, all except sight.. you didn't have enough energy to open them, in the coldness of your whole body from the well ventilated room, you felt warmth on your hand.

It was all too familiar, calloused but so gentle and warm. Simon.. it was Simon. All while processing this situation, all that's going through Simon's head are the what ifs.

"Fucking hell, help her.. My wife, she's been unconscious for thirty minutes. She's breathing but it's faint and she's burning" Simon almost yelled in a full panic, he was doing his best not to snap at the hospital staff but how couldn't he? Hadn't even realized that he called you something you weren't anymore, the title he took with him.

Your little one holding her dad's hand in the waiting room, she was observant, an emotionally intelligent little girl who holds her dad's hand. Simon keeps reminding himself to calm down, how much his bumblebee must be terrified, far more than he was so he takes her in his arms.

Sooner or later they were allowed to enter, doctor said you were stabilized and only collapsed from a horrid fever and so much fatigue. Thinking of losing you, just like that with no warning would be the second time Simon would lose you.

Now watching you unconscious, IV tube connected to you because of course you haven't been eating well either. It made him rethink everything, was it a mistake to give you those papers? Was it worth it losing the one person in his life who he would give his life for with no hesitation?

All he could do for now was sit next to you, no matter how long it takes for you to wake up because he doesn't have the strength to leave, maybe in a day or two but not now..

Part 2 anyone?

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x plus size reader #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

Hi lovely! I’ve been wanting to request to you for while bc I love your writing so much but I’m not used to requesting so idk 😭

Ok so I LOVE the way you write for wolfstar x reader. I was wondering if you could write smth where reader gets drunk (or just tipsy) and, bc of the alcohol, she gets more confident and starts being super verbally affectionate when she normally isn’t. It’s not that she’s shy but she just isn’t really a verbally affectionate person.

Thank you lovely!

cw: alcohol, inebriation

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“You don’t just casually brush a customer’s hand unless you’re hitting on them!” Sirius insists as he jimmies his key in the front door. “And right in front of us, too. The gall!”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” He can practically hear Remus’ eyes rolling. “He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“Our angel and I didn’t get felt up when he gave us our drinks.”

Something suspiciously giggle-esque comes out of Remus. “He didn’t feel me up!”

“I think you just don’t understand how handsome you are,” you say in a voice made of dandelion fluff, soft and light and pure. “People like you more than you realize. It’s sort of sweet how you don’t notice, though.”

The lock finally gives. Sirius opens the door gallantly, allowing you and Remus to spill inside first. You’re clinging to your boyfriend like moss to a tree, and Sirius is endlessly grateful for Remus’ physical stability even in inebriation so that he doesn’t have to support the both of you himself.

Sirius never sets out to be the most sober at the end of the night, but Remus only had as many drinks as Sirius and has somehow ended up twice as tipsy. Sirius’ theory: the bartender took a liking to him and poured him doubles as a token of his affection. Considering Remus’ tall frame, Welsh origins, and the fact that he’s been able to drink Sirius under the table since they were fifteen, this seems the only reasonable explanation.

“Me?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised, a bit of bashfulness creeping into his tone.

“Mhm,” you hum. “Remember that barista last week? She liked you, too, but you couldn’t tell then either.”

“She liked me because I had a simple order.”

You shake your head, smiling up at him all soft and adoring. “No, she liked you because you’re lovely.” You reach up, tracing the lines of one of his scars with your fingertip. “Very, very lovely.”

Sirius is inclined to agree, even as Remus’ face goes a very, very lovely rosy hue. You’re in rare form tonight, honey-tongued and expressive in ways you’re usually not inclined to. You’ve been overflowing with declarations of love and sweetness since you all left the bar.

“Do you want something to drink, my loves?” Sirius asks as Remus tries to collapse to the floor as carefully as he can so that he can take his shoes off with you stuck to his side.

“Awe, Siri,” you turn to him with a look of wonder, “are you gonna make sure we’re fed and watered?”

Sirius can’t help himself. He crouches beside you, slotting his hand alongside your face. You’re positively moony-eyed.

“I sure am, sweetness. Is that okay with you?”

You nod, rubbing your cheek against his palm. “I love you when you take care of us. I mean,” you get very serious, “I love you all of the time. It’s not conditional, just, this is a bit extra.”

Sirius is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Noted,” he tells you.

You continue to look at him with that sweet, dreamy expression, and Sirius realizes you’ve likely forgotten he ever asked you a question. He’d be content to do this with you all night, except the only thing that sounds better than sitting here holding your face is getting to hold both you and Remus once he gets you both in bed.

Also, now your boyfriend is watching the two of you with a lovelorn expression, clearly feeling left out, and Sirius can’t have that.

“Do you want some water, darling?” he asks him.

Remus’ cheeks pinken again at being caught. “I wouldn’t mind some. I can get it.”

“No, you say here.” Sirius stands, setting a fond hand atop his boyfriend’s head. “Why don’t you two take your shoes off, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Sirius can hear you and Remus whispering and giggling to each other from the kitchen. Your voices intertwine in a sweet, steady susurrus, as much as part of your home as the hum of the refrigerator or the creaking of the pipes. When Sirius comes back with a cup for each of you, you’ve waylaid Remus on the floor, your torso half atop his and his hands cupping your face. You’re both smiling tenderheartedly. One of your shoes is still on, the clasp undone. Sirius sits by your feet.

“My lovely dovely,” Remus is murmuring, sozzled, squishing your face between his hands. You look nearly ready to melt into a puddle on their floor when you feel Sirius pulling off your remaining shoe and look back at him.

“Sirius.” You appear delighted to see him. “Did you have a fun time tonight?”

He presses cups of water into both of your hands. You sit up to drink yours, whereas Remus tips the cup half on his face when he tries to drink it lying down.

“I did,” Sirius replies. He clasps Remus’ hand to help him up, and the other boy lets him. “Did you?”

Remus runs his fingers up the length of Sirius’ forearm. “Did you really?” he asks. There’s a small divot of worry between his brows.

Sirius frowns. He leans forward, kissing it away. “Of course I did, lovely. Why are you asking?”

“We were just saying,” you answer for him, “that we hope you did still have a good time, even though now you have to look after us.”

A little laugh puffs out of Sirius, relieved. “Oh. Well you’ve got nothing to worry about there, yeah? I love looking after you.”

You glance at Remus, smiling. “That’s what I said.”

“Next time,” Remus says somberly, “you can get as drunk as you like, and we’ll bring you home and feed you water.”

“And massage your back,” you add. “And give you cuddles, if you like.”

“I like the sound of that very much,” Sirius agrees. “Is this your way of telling me you’d like back massages and cuddles?”

You smile at him dopily. “I love you,” you say.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I love you too. Alright, you win. Back massages and cuddles if you both finish your waters and get in bed.”

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justwonder113 · 2 months ago

Text

Sharing a bed with Lee Know

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Feeling beyond frustrated with your boyfriend you leave your phone home and head out to drink your sorrows away, meanwhile he's stuck there losing his mind trying to find you. Warning: CURSING It's me who's surprised there. Angst to fluff. Barely mentioning the sharing bed part but yeah... Reader is gender neutral. Mention of alcohol intake. reader is tipsy but fully conscious. I don't know if I missed anything so please let me know if I did. NOT PROOFREAD

A/N- Glad to announce that I'm alive and well and back with a new laptop so I won't have to break my fingers trying to type on my phone anymore!!! I'll try to update more and more now^^ As for my work, this is the first time I have written something like this and I really hope you'll like it. I tried my best to make it seem as real as possible and I'm really eager to know what you think, so if you have any feedback please tell me what you think. Again thank you for all the love and support you give me, it means the world to me!! Reblogs and comments are highly appeciated^^ Word count- 2.8k

Not knowing how to deal with your rampaging emotions you kept pacing back and forth in your apartment like a lunatic. You were at loss for words, never in your life you felt this humiliated and to think that Minho, the person who was supposed to be your safe space and your comfort person was the source of that!

Honestly, you felt torn, you were beyond mad at frustrated at Minho and wanted to rip him a new one, but at the same time you felt so heartbroken and miserable all you wanted to was to crawl in your bed and not get up for at least a week. It also didn’t help at all that your week was an absolute shit, with this said day being the cake on the top. All you wanted to do was to have a lunch with your boyfriend and just forget all the bullshit you had to go through. You knew he had a hectic schedule due to an upcoming comeback. Heck, you barely had seen him for the last maybe three weeks. He was already at practice when you woke up and immediately went to sleep when he came back in the middle of the night so he had barely any time to talk or text to you, you weren’t even talking about seeing you in person. It was what pissed you off the most. You were too considerate, how many people would be able to handle having a relationship like that, when a simple text sent your way made you want to throw fireworks? You knew he was busy, you only wanted to see him for what a half hour, just to eat together? Maybe get a hug? And an encouraging word that you could get through the day? No, what you get for bringing your very busy boyfriend and his bandmates his favorite takeout is to get yelled at in front of the said bandmates to being overly clingy and overbearing.

One part of you wanted to break down sobbing, the other part wanted to bring hell to him and make a biggest scene ever, in reality? You just left, not an ounce of emotion on your face. Maybe it would be better if you did either or those, at least you wouldn’t feel this torn now. So full of emotions feeling like you could burst any scond. No, you knew you were angry and rightfully so, this is why the tears that wouldn’t stop streaming down your face aggravated you even more. He didn’t deserve your tears not after the bullshit he pulled.

Another pang of notification brought you back to reality, God how many massages was he going to send? Who was clingy and overbearing now? If he thought that you would forgive just like that just because he was sorry then he was a damn fool. You knew he didn’t mean it; you knew him long enough to know that whenever he was too stressed he had outbursts like he did earlier and he said stuff he didn’t necessarily mean. It was an objective fact that you didn’t deserve to be called clingy. But it didn’t matter, he humiliated you in front of all these people and that wasn’t something you could easily forgive. Hell, how could you forget such thing? He could have said that he needed space that he was busy, no matter how vulnerable you felt, no matter how much you needed him in that moment you would have understood.

Maybe it was a sign. Your relationship was still considered new, it wouldn’t hurt as much ending things now. Maybe you could even return to being friends again. Another pang of your phone followed by another in less than five seconds, then another.

God, you couldn’t bear it anymore, you needed some air.

Not even considering to take your phone with you you left your apartment. You didn’t exactly know where you were going but it would be better than feeling suffocated in your own house.

***

Probably not the wisest choice because now you were worst kind of drunk in this bar meaning your mind was completely sober but your body seemed disconnected from your mind, everything was spinning and your whole body moved as if in slow motion. God what a beautiful day you couldn’t even drink to forget your own sorrows. Better go home then, or at least head to that direction.

You only managed to pay for the drinks and get outside before you felt so queasy you had to stop and lean on the lamppost. God, you hated that your body wasn’t listening to you.

Also, you were starting to regret not bringing your phone with you. You would have called your friend to pick you up and maybe take you with them or at least order a cab. Also, not really wise to spend most of the money you had in your wallet on drinks. God, you felt like shit.

Oh wow it was already night, and based on how there was barely anyone around it must’ve been quite late too.

You started walking but barely made 10 steps before you had to stop again, it was as if your body had a mind on its own and was refusing to cooperate.

“Baby!” You heard a loud yell and before you even had the time to react you were engulfed biggest hug ever. You almost wrapped your arms around your boyfriend before you remembered you were mad at him. Fortunately for you he almost immediately let go, carefully examining everything, his eyes so full of worry you felt bad for him for a second.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t even try to hide your displeasure. Minho flinched as if he was physically hit by your words.

“I was searching for you! I was out here wandering in these streets trying to find you for hours! I was about to call the police when I saw you here!” You felt guilty, looking at him. He looked dishelved, hair messy as if he had run his hand through it countless times, he was out of breath as if he had been running, his eyes red and swollen as if he had cried…Was he really running around searching for you?

“Who’s being clingy now? Couldn’t last five minutes without seeing me? Had to search for me all over town? So clingy and overbearing!” You watched as your words hit him like a slap, his face morphed into a pained one. You felt horrible talking to him this way, but part of you was satisfied, wanting him to know just how much words could hurt.

“I’m sorry…” His voice was quite almost inaudible, you knew he meant it but you would be dammed if you forgave him just like that.

“You should be, you were beyond cruel.” Even you were surprised how emotionless you sounded. You would also be fooled if you didn’t know the turmoil that was inside you right at this moment.

He lowered his gaze unable to look you in the eyes. “I know.” Oh great he knows, what a balm to your wound.

“You really hurt me Minho!” There was it, the anger, the hurt, you didn’t have the energy to contain it anymore.

“I know.”

“Oh that fixes everything then! You know! Do you know anything but that sentence? Is that all you have to say?” Silence, you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh bitterly, feeling defeated. “What even are you doing here Minho?”

“You weren’t picking up the phone, your house was empty, neither your friends or your family knew where you were. I had to find you to know that you were safe!” His voice was strained, he looked like he was seconds away from busting in tears.

“I’m safe you can go home now!” You turned around to head home, all these emotions making you feel a bit more sober. You barely made two steps before a hand grabbed your wrist gently halting your movement. His voice desperately calling your name. “Please…”

You couldn’t take this anymore. You turned back to him eyes full of rage burning with unshed tears begging to be let out. “Please what Minho? What do you want me to do? You can’t even tell me normally why you were searching for me. You agree with me that you hurt me yet you’re not even saying you’re sorry, and no I won’t take that halfassed apology or whatever that was. What do you want me to do? It’s like you don’t even know what you want yourself so what do you really expect me to do?”

You watched a tear run down his reddened cheek. It infuriated you how breathtaking he looked right now. Not even the most skilled painter would be able to capture his beauty, not a single camera would be able to capture the full beauty. God, you hated how your heart only sang for him even in this much pain he caused. Here he was watching you in sorrow, in pain, angered by his betrayal while he did nothing just stand there idly looking ethereal, still managing to have you in his chokehold.

“Do you even love me?” No matter how hard you tried to fight it the dam broke. A tear slid down your face, quickly followed by another, then yet another, till it felt like a little stream down your face. You forced yourself to look him in the eyes, the pain and anger burning in them. His eyes also full of pain but you couldn’t read anything more. There were times you thought you could read his emotions… What a fool you were.

Your body started to shake trying to hold violent sobs wanting to break through. No matter how much you were fighting it you were starting to break down as if already knowing the answer. Subtly wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to hold yourself, to prevent breaking down even more. You hated feeling this weak. Hated that you couldn’t control yourself. Hated that you had to break down in front of him like this! To show him your weakness…

It was as if Minho awoke from the trance he was in, in the tenth of the second his arms were gently cradling your face and his lips were connected to yours, giving you probably the most passionate kiss you had ever received.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. The tears really felt like tiny rivers on your face, no matter how many times Minho tried to gently rub them from your face with his thumbs they just wouldn’t stop coming. The kiss was gentle yet firm, it tasted salty from both your tears (probably mostly yours) but still familiarly sweet. His lips moved against yours in determination, as if to show you his feelings the only way he knew how.

You felt like your body and mind were on overdrive feeling too many emotions at once, not fully knowing how to react. You tried to resist the urge to reciprocate the kiss but you almost immediately folded, almost quite literally because now if not Minho’s hands migrating from your face to your waist you weren’t sure you would be able to be stand. Yor body felt like it was completely shutting down and you felt like you were at his mercy and based on how tightly he held you against his body and how fiercely he was kissing you he wasn’t planning on letting you go any time soon. And he didn’t, he only leaned his head back a little to give you time to catch your breath.

“I’m cruel as you said, and mean and cold and I most definitely don’t deserve such an amazing person as you by my side, I’m not even worthy of your forgiveness! You didn’t deserve to be told you’re clingy or overbearing or some shit like that when you’ve been so supportive, so kind, so patient and loving towards me when we both know I didn’t do shit to earn it.” His broken voice pulled on your heartstrings, no matter how angry you felt it was whole another pain to feel him talk so about himself. Minho lifted your hands and carefully kissed both of them, his hands slightly trembling. He looked you in the eyes, and for a second you were taken aback with the sea, no ocean of emotions in them. “I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings. There’s nothing I can say to justify my actions, but I promise you I never meant any of my words. I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible boyfriend to you but please trust me when I say, I love you with my whole heart, with everything I have and everything I am, please never doubt that.”

You stood like that for a second or two, maybe even a minute, unable to find words to say. You didn’t even now what you were feeling. Everything inside was a mess. Sighing in defeat you held your hand forward, Minho’s confused eyes snapping at them then at you in a second.

“Take me home.”

Minho took your hand without even thinking twice.

***

You knew you said that you felt a bit more sober earlier but that turned out to be a lie because you still felt so queasy getting in your bed felt like climbing the mount Everest and that with Minho’s help, who didn’t once let go of your hand and helped you with every step of your night routine. None of you had said a word since you held in your hand to him. You knew he was nervous based on the slight trembling you felt from time to time as you held his hand but honestly you didn’t know what you were going to say to him.

“I texted everyone that you’re home safe and that you’re going to sleep.” Minho broke the silence, his voice a bit coarse. You looked at him which made him look even more nervous. If not the circumstances you would find his unsureness and even shyness absolutely endearing. “There’s water and painkillers on your bedside table.” A nod from you, you were tired, you felt like you could sleep for a whole day.

You quickly came back to your senses when he let go of your hand. “You should go to sleep now, I will leave you to rest.”

Thankfully you managed to grab his wrist before he could leave. “Where are you going?“ Minho looked taken aback, clearly not expecting you to reach out for him.

“I thought you would want some space.” He sounded defeated.

You groaned as you fell on your bed. “God we really need to work on our communication skills. I promise I will tell you if I ever need space from you, now get in bed. There’s no way I’m letting you out of house on 3 am or whatever time it is, it’s late!”

After a second of silence you opened your eye to check on Minho, to see if he was here and you weren’t talking to yourself like a lunatic. The sight made your breath hitch. He had the softest smile adorning his face as he watched you, his eyes full of love, you had never seen him smiling at you like that.

“Careful or I might think you care for me.” There he was being a little shit you knew and loved, had to ruin a moment. you made sure to groan as loudly and as dramatically as possible.

“Minho I swear to God! Get in bed or I am going to make you sleep on the floor!” You tried to threaten but the smile that broke through your face wasn’t fooling anyone.

Minho didn’t waste a second and almost immediately you were pulled into a hug, your head smushed against his chest which beat wildly as if in joy.

“I could have given you a second to change you know, I think I might have something you can change into…” Minho didn’t let you finish your sentence -“Let me just hold you for a second, please.”

Not wanting to deny him you wrapped your arms around him and held him just as tight. Both of you feeling content being in each other’s arms, finally feeling calm and most importantly safe.

“I love you.” You heard Minho mutter against your skin, he was so still you thought he had fallen asleep. You looked up at him, there was that gaze again, so full of love and tenderness. Not even trying to hide your smile you leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss. “I know. I love you too.”

Reblogs and comments are highly appeciated^^

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bontentrio · 17 days ago

Text

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

yunho x gn reader + yeosang x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: fluff fluff fluff + alcohol, being drunk and jealousy in yeosang’s (+ possible mistakes since english is not my first language)

a/n: this was supposed to be posted last night but i kinda forgot oopsie

masterlist

YUNHO

another week, another game night at yunho’s place. the only difference is that this time yeosang was there, along with wooyoung and san who invited themselves over. at first, yunho mentally groaned, really looking forward to spend time with you, alone. but then it became bearable, since you decided to stick to his side as you cheered for him while he played against yeosang in mortal kombat. a tough challenge indeed, since both are insane players with a huge armery of combat combinations and special techniques.

wooyoung and san were sitting on the floor and were being as loud as ever, cheering and gasping at the bloody animations. meanwhile, you sat next to yunho, arm wrapped behind his back as you played with his ear. this was really distracting him from the game, since your body was pressing against his side while your soft touches caressed his ear and side of his face. every time you laughed at something wooyoung and san did or say, he would get hit by yeosang’s character due to him losing his focus. how could he though? when your face was so close to his and your laugh was like music to his ears?

despite his lack of attention to the game, yunho’s face remained serious and unreadable. for anyone else in the room, he was getting in a competitive mood. yet, you knew better.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, after he lost the first round. he quickly glanced at you, before returning to face the tv humming and nodding. “just a little distracted, that’s all” he said, quickly pressing on the different buttons on the controller. just in case, you decided to retrieve your hand, maybe the reason why he was distracted was because your touches tickled him. he shot you a quick look almost immediately, not actually wanting you to stop. “don’t stop, keep doing that” he ordered, eyes back on the tv. you chuckled “okay baby”.

unbeknownst to you and yunho, wooyoung and san saw the whole interaction, while yeosang quickly glanced at you as well. they all knew how yunho felt about you, since they’ve been friends and roomates (in yeosang’s case) for a long while now. they noticed the way he would look at you, and how he would light up every time he spot you. they also noticed the way he would always accommodate his schedules to fit yours for game night, no matter the time or place. if they were on tour? no problem, a small online card game becomes a good and entertaining alternative if you weren’t feeling like playing league of legends. they found the whole situation endearing, and, without yunho’s knowledge, they had a bet going on about when he would confess.

“did you just call him baby?” san asked, smirking. yunho immediately shot him a warning glance, the last thing he wanted was for you to stop using the nickname due to their teasing. “you know y/n, some words have heavy meanings” wooyoung added, mischief evident on his face. you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out “are you jealous woo?” you asked, momentarily stopping your touches on yunho’s skin as he simultaneously sighed. “i’m just saying, i don’t call everyone baby” he said in response.

you remained quiet, staring at the tv as the characters still hit each other. yunho, on the other hand, started panicking. what were you thinking? how you were feeling about what wooyoung said? “i like the nickname” he admitted suddenly after a few minutes of silence, except for the aggressive taps on the controller’s buttons. your head turned to him, and he quickly interlocked his eyes with yours, sending you silent but comfortable words in support. somehow, you understood what he said with his eyes: “i don’t mind”. you smiled in return.

“oh i know you like the nickname” wooyoung said, before getting a kick on his back by yeosang’s leg. “don’t distract the player wooyoung! i don’t want to win due to distractions” he scolded, earning ‘oooh’s from san. “he sucks anyway!” wooyoung exclaimed, getting another two kicks, but this time from yunho and you. “ow” he complained, earning a laugh from the dimply man beside him.

after a while, yunho won the second round. “wooyoung distract him again, i take it back” yeosang said, laughing ad the third and last round started. “that’s unfair!” you complained in defense of your best friend. “you heard them” yunho said, still focused on the game.

“how cute of you you to defend your boyfriend” wooyoung teased. yunho felt his blood run cold and visibly tensed, shooting you a look to check your reaction. but instead of feeling awkward like yunho imagined you to be, you started kicking wooyoung with a pillow while exclaiming “you’re being soooo insufferable today!”.

———

yeosang won the fight, ending it at 2-1 and with a pouty yunho in consequence. san exclaimed it was his turn to play against yeosang, so yunho gave him his place as he said he was going to get more drinks from the kitchen. you looked at him disappearing behind the door and sighed. “go help him out y/n” san said. “we all know how he gets when he loses at something”. you nodded in response, standing up from your place and ignoring the way wooyoung said “we are so going to win this bet” as you exited the room.

you found yunho in the kitchen scrolling mindlessly through social media with a beer bottle on his other hand, casually sipping it. he was also leaning against the counter, and you could not deny it: it was definitely a pretty sight.

“are you okay yun?” you asked, taking the bottle from him and sipping it. he chose to ignore the thought of an indirect kiss. instead, he hummed in response, blocking his phone and setting it aside. you kind of stood there, feeling a bit awkward, not really knowing what to say. “i’m sorry if wooyoung’s comment made you uncomfortable” he said, looking out to the window, avoiding your eyes. you stared, confusion evident on your face. “it’s fine, it didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything”.

“one thing though-“ he started saying, bringing back his gaze to you as he stood up straight. “he was right about one thing”. you left the bottle on the kitchen counter next to him, asking what he meant by that. “words do have strong meanings sometimes”

“i want to know what that nickname means to you” he finished, holding your hand in his. you bit your lip, trying to find the words to translate your thoughts, but weren’t able to say anything in response. yunho pulled you closer to him, now leaning on the counter again as you stood in between his legs. “i don’t know, but you’re the only one i call baby” you whispered, looking down, suddenly feeling ashamed of your boldness. he chuckled in response, lifting up your chin to look at him. his face was close to yours, like never before. “i’m glad to hear that y/n, but i still want you to tell me the meaning”

“i don’t know yun” you said, unable to think with his face so close to yours. “you can’t find the words to describe it?” he asked, finger tracing patterns on your arm. you shook your head, not trusting your voice. “what about-“ he lifted his hand to your face “telling me through actions?”

you closed your eyes, unconsciously leaning in and pressing your lips against his. his other hand went to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to his body as you kissed him softly, pouring all the love and devotion for your best friend that you didn’t know you hid deep inside you. you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, as you quickly became addicted to the way his lips felt against yours.

after a while, you broke the kiss, pecking him again when he chased your lips. “yun?” you asked. he hummed, before kissing you again. “what does the nickname mean to you?” you asked.

“hope”.

YEOSANG

“hoping they realize how you feel won’t change anything, you know? i think you should just tell them” san told yeosang as he took a sip from his drink. yeosang sat on the opposite side of the table, his own drink long forgotten due to his long debate with himself about whether to tell you his real feelings or not. san, being as perceptive as he is, noticed something was off since that party a week ago, so he invited yeosang to a small new cafe nearby.

yeosang couldn’t stop thinking about it. he didn’t even need to focus hard enough, he could still feel your lips on his, how your scent invaded all of his senses and how addictive the whole moment was. he was sure the kiss lasted longer than intended too, since he faintly remembers the drunk voices of his friends telling each other to “give them space” or “get a room”. it’s like one of those phrases hit you like a bucket of cold water, because you immediately separated yourself from him as an intense blush covered your cheeks. “i’m sorry” you whispered, avoiding his eyes. despite the loud background, he heard you perfectly and shook his head “it’s okay, really”. he noticed your eyes drifting back to his lips and then quickly to his eyes. what if he kissed you a- “still friends right?” you asked, interrupting his thoughts. he couldn’t find the words to answer, so he nodded slightly. stupid he thought to himself.

after that you kept your distance, even on the car ride back home. you successfully got everyone back to their respective homes safe and sound, so yeosang expected to talk about what happened now that everything quieted down. but he was wrong, again. “are you okay?” he asked, stopping at the red light. you hummed in response. he expected you to elaborate or say something, anything, but you didn’t. so he decided to press further: “are you sure?” your eyes drifted from the road to him, and patted his shoulder lightly “yeah yeo, i’m just tired. i forgot how exhausting everyone is while drunk, specially san and wooyoung” you said. he suspected you were lying, but chose to leave it there. maybe you just needed to process everything, like he did the first time you kissed.

after that, you disappeared. well, not actually, but you stopped replying as often as before. reason why he started feeling anxious, what if he fucked up? maybe he should have reassured you more, or maybe he should have just said no to that kiss, or maybe he-

“earth to yeosang” san said, interrupting his thoughts as he waved his hand in front of his friend’s face. yeosang blinked, nodding “sorry, sorry. what were you saying?”

“i was telling you about hongjoong organizing a small gathering for his birthday, it’s gonna be us and very few other people” san told him, before adding: “one of those is y/n, and they confirmed their assistance already”.

his friend leaned back, smirking at yeosang’s widened eyes. “if i were you i would start thinking of what to say to them”, san said, finishing his drink.

yeosang had a lot to think about indeed.

———

yeosang is a coward, that’s what he is. you stood right next to him, as you always are, yet he couldn’t manage to say the words he has been aching to say. so, he decided to take drastic measures: he decided to drink enough to get courage and drag you out to an empty room in order to confront you.

one shot.

two shots.

three shots.

he lost count after that, mind already going hazy. yeosang looked at you, it seemed like you were also in a similar state, since you giggled at anything and muttered incomprehensible words. his eyes drifted to your lips, plump as he remembered. do they still taste the same as in his memory?

suddenly, he felt a small push from behind him, making him almost spill his drink. “go, tell them” san said, appearing in his field of vision as he patted his shoulder blades. “tell what to who?” you interrupted, smiling widely. yep, clearly drunk as well. yeosang shook his head, before sipping his drink “nothing, don’t worry”.

stupid he thought, once again.

———

“who’s that guy?” yeosang asked hongjoong, pointing to a tall man that was talking to you on the opposite side of the room. you seemed interested in whatever he was saying, which made yeosang’s blood boil.

hongjoong smirked “that’s my brother’s best friend, he’s cool”. yeosang huffed in annoyance, muttering a low “he needs to ‘cool’ off and get away from y/n”. his captain heard it though, deciding to entertain himself for a bit. “he asked me to introduce them to him” hongjoong told yeosang, who quickly turned his head to him with wide eyes. “why?!” he exclaimed. “because he’s interested? yeosangie you’re usually good at reading the room”

his eyes turned back to you. wait, did you two get closer in distance? he watched as that man (yes, he refused to acknowledge him by name, despite hongjoong telling him twice) started playing with the ends of your hair. something he, yeosang, did.

he had enough.

he finished the remains of his drink and tipsily, but surely, walked towards you, who stared at him questioningly once you noticed him. you didn’t even have time to ask him what’s going on, before he grabbed your hand and led you to one of the empty rooms.

“yeosang! i was in the middle of a conversation back there” you exclaimed, confusion all over your face as he shut the door behind him. “why are you talking to him when you should be talking to me?” he asked, facing you.

“i’ve been right next to you the whole night” you said, crossing your arms against your chest. “not the way i want you to” yeosang answered, getting closer. “tell me, is he more interesting than me?”

you shook your head no “of course not”. “then is he more handsome than me?” he asked, stepping closer and making your cheeks flush. “would he kiss you the way i do?” he asked, leaning closer to your face.

you stared into his eyes, despite the obvious drunkness, they remained as gentle as ever. “tell me” he begged, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. he needed to hear it, even if it’s a lie. “n-no” you managed to say, uncrossing your arms as you set your hands on his chest. yeosang opened his eyes, staring at your lips as if he was silently asking for permission. like you could read his mind, you nodded slowly.

so he crashed his lips against yours for a third time, but now it was desperate, hungry. he needed to feel you, taste you, as he pretended you were finally his. he pressed you against the wall while his hands found their way to your lower back, making you slightly arch your back, pressing your front to his body. to his surprise, you kissed back with the same hunger, biting his lip and sliding your tongue on his mouth when he gasped in surprise. he could still feel your favorite drink in your mouth, and he wondered if you could taste his own. he felt intoxicated, addicted to the way your mouth moved against his.

“best friends don’t do this yeo” you managed to say suddenly, in between kisses and small gasps. yeosang hummed in response against your lips, before biting on your lower one “we haven’t been just friends since that first kiss, my love” he muttered, making you smile without separating yourself from him. “i like the sound of that” you said, breaking the kiss but pecking his lips sweetly. “what?” he asked, pecking you back. “you calling me your love”

he chuckled, before lifting his left hand and cupping your cheek. he stared deeply into your eyes with so much devotion, making you suddenly realize that it’s the same gaze as always. gentle, sweet, loving. a look that was only reserved for you, and you only. “that’s because you are, my love” he said, smiling.

you couldn’t help but kiss him again, and again, and again. you felt so loved and cherished. how could you have been so blind?

“y/n” he said suddenly, breaking the kiss and making you frown “don’t address me like that” you said, pouting, making yeosang let out a laugh. “already so demanding” he said “my love, we are both drunk right now, probably not enough to forget about this though. but i still want us to talk about it in the morning” he said, holding both of your hands and bringing them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “i promise” you answered.

once morning had come, already sobered up and fully conscious of your actions, you called yeosang, ready to face your own feelings as you accepted that you are, also, in love with your best friend.

taglist: @yoongles2025

(to be added please let me know)

#ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #yunho fluff #ateez fluff #yeosang scenarios #yeosang fluff #yeosang imagines #yeosang x reader

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taegimood · 11 months ago

Text

— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

──────────────────────

yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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cameronluvr · 5 months ago

Text

EXES BEST FRIEND — topper thornton x fem reader + rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: rafe is your ex boyfriend and you decide to get revenge on him by sleeping with his best friend topper at a party, but you didn’t expect him to walk in on you both…

warnings: 18+ MDNI ➾ consumption of alcohol, underage drinking, cuss words, smut, semi public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, toxic!rafe, arguing, getting walked in on, yelling etc

MY MASTERLIST / RAFE MASTERLIST

you and rafe broke up three months ago after a two year long relationship. it was toxic to say the least, rafe was abusive and controlling and everything he did ruined your self esteem, until you finally gained the courage to dump him and move on.

earlier this week, you were invited to a figure 8 house party by a kook boy who was interested in one of your friends, who was also going, of course. now it’s the night of the party, and you and your friends managed to get a few pre drinks in at your house before heading over there.

you and your three friends tipsily stumble into the party hand in hand with each other as you laugh and head through the crowded house over to the kitchen, where you grab some more drinks to get the night properly started. all four of you had began to settle into the party with booze in your hands on the dance floor, dancing with each other and singing along to the songs playing.

as more time went by, the more alcohol entered your systems. one of your friends had somehow ended up making out with a boy in the middle of the crowd, and another friend was talking to a girl she recognized from high school, which left you and the last friend alone.

“wanna go get another drink?” you ask her, raising your voice over the booming music. “yeah” she says, grabbing your hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen again. just as you grab another bottle from the crate and crack it open, you turn around and gasp at the sight of your ex boyfriend. “jesus…” you say, putting your hand on your chest as your friend stands beside you.

“hey y/n, what’s up” rafe says in a nice tone which makes you frown in suspicion. rafe couldn’t be nice if he tried to be, there’s always underlying tones to his voice, mainly sarcasm and pity.

“she’s fine, thank you.” your friend answers for you, knowing you didn’t have much to say to him. she shoots him a sarcastic smile which made him look at her and grin.

“oh, she don’t talk anymore, huh?” rafe asks, glancing at you before looking back at your friend. “not to you, no” she scoffs a laugh, which made him laugh at her. “oooh, feisty one your friend is, ain’t she?” rafe sarcastically says to you with that stupid mocking grin he does.

“go away, rafe.” you roll your eyes and grab your friends hand before walking away from him. “awh, i liked you better when you weren’t a stuck up bitch” rafe says to your friend to piss her off, which made her turn around and stop in her tracks, making you do the same.

“do you really have to be a dick right now?” you raise your voice and eyebrows at his audacity. “oh, she speaks!” rafe sarcastically exclaims, raising his arms. your eyes dart onto topper and kelce stood behind rafe, who were looking right at you with stupid grins on their faces to wind you up.

you give them no notice because they want to see you all riled up, that’s all rafe ever wants. you ignore him completely and grab your friend again, pulling her toward the other room again. “i can see your ass cheeks, ‘guess you really are just a slut after all” rafe says to you which made you groan and yell “fuck off” without stopping or turning around, hearing all three boys giggle like girls at your reaction as you walk out of the kitchen.

“ugh. what a stupid fucking asshole” you vent to your friend. “honestly, fuck him. he’s a prick. you should totally get on someone tonight, ‘would totally piss him off” your friend suggests with a giggle to lighten your mood, making you smile a bit. “i don’t know…” you sigh before you both return to your other two friends who were now both dancing with boys. “fair enough” you shrug, laughing it off as you and your friend resume dancing and drinking to take your mind off things.

another thirty minutes went by, drink after drink, and you found yourself wandering away from your friends and chatting to a random bunch of strangers out in the hallway. you needed to pee really badly, and you had no idea where any of your friends were, so you head up the stairs alone to find a bathroom.

it’s much quieter upstairs with a few odd people going in and out of bedrooms and up and down the stairs. you began searching for the bathroom when you found it, opening the door and stepping inside. when you close the door and turn around, you gasp and jump at the unexpected sight of someone in the bathroom with you.

“shit… sorr— topper?” you quickly apologize, realizing it was rafe’s best friend. “what are you doing? get out” topper says in a mean tone, giving you daggers as he zips up his pants. “i need to pee? you get out” you say to him, noticing he was done using the toilet.

“no, i was in here first” topper scoffs, flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “great, well you’re done now, so leave” you smile with a fake sweet tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest to wait. “don’t care. wait your turn, don’t come in here demanding” he rolls his eyes, turning off the faucet and drying his hands on himself.

“fine. i’ll just go. i don’t care” you shrug, the alcohol giving you confidence as you walk over to the toilet and pull your panties down from underneath your dress, “what are you doing?” topper frowns, looking at you as if you’re crazy. “going pee, what does it look like?” you ask, laughing as you sit down to pee with him right in front of you.

he doesn’t answer, he only rolls his eyes at you, trying not to look at any private part of yours. he doesn’t make a move for the door, he just stands there kinda watching you with a weird look on his face. you two never really got along so well in the past, with him constantly being on rafe’s side each time you argued. “see? you could’ve left but you didn’t—”

“because i was in here first.” you both bicker as you finish peeing, wrapping toilet paper over your hand to wipe yourself. he didn’t particularly watch you do it, but it was definitely in his vision. when you were done, you flush the toilet and wash your hands, all while topper is still in the bathroom.

“great, look at that, we’re both done. who’s getting the fuck out first?” you ask, giving him a sarcastic look. “i’m staying here” topper says, “okay. well i’m staying here too.” you say to piss him off, seeing him roll his eyes. “not much to do in a bathroom…” he shrugs. “why do you wanna stay here then?” you frown.

“why do you wanna stay here?” he asks the same question you did. “to annoy you.” you shrug and giggle, both of you in a pretty drunk state. “right. typical of you” he scoffs, seeing you reach into your purse and grabbing your lipstick. “mhm” you hum as you turn around to face the mirror, opening your lipstick and reapplying some.

“y’know, you already look like a whore so that lipstick isn’t going to change anything” he says rudely, making you scoff at his reflection in the mirror. “maybe i wanna be a whore” you shrug, focusing on applying the lipstick and rubbing your lips together, all while you lean over the sink counter with your ass cheeks hanging out of your short dress.

you see his eyes dart down to your ass in the mirror’s reflection, making you smirk and poke your butt out a little more, seeing him still looking. “if i’m such a whore, why’re you looking at me like that, hm?” you ask in a bratty tone, placing your lipstick aside and turning around to fully face him, his eyes now looking back up into yours.

“you can’t wear a dress like that and expect me not to look.” he says, looking you up and down which brings tension. “why? is it too much for you?” you tilt your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “yeah. y’look hot.” he says, his drunken state allowing him to forget that you’re his best friend’s ex and this is wrong.

“yeah? you want me to take it off?” you ask, your tone more soft and flirty now as you look at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows. “i mean…” he drags suggestively, making you laugh. “come take it off me then…” you offer, slowly grinning as you see the look on his face. he wants to devour you.

he doesn’t hesitate to take a step closer to you, your bodies just inches apart as the tension grows thicker. “don’t you have friends to get back to?” he asks, “don’t you?” your head tilts. “i asked you first” he says, stepping closer and reaching his hand down to your waist, pulling you closer.

“i have no idea where my friends are. the last i seen em’ they were busy kissing some guys downstairs.” you shrug, cozying up to him as your body gets comfortable being so close to his. “weird. i thought you would’ve been doing exactly that.” he jokes, acting like you’re the slutty friend out of your group.

“well i am… just upstairs” you grin, wrapping your arms behind his neck and pulling his head down to kiss you, your lips immediately crashing onto each others. the kiss turned deep fast, with both of your hands roaming one another’s bodies, his hands slid down to your ass where he grabbed both cheeks, making you giggle and stand on your tip toes. “you like that?” he asks, breaking the kiss for air.

“mhm,” you hum, pulling him back in for another kiss. you hate to admit it but you haven’t been with anyone since rafe, you haven’t been kissed, touched or fucked by another guy since. you were too afraid to jump into new relationships or bond with new guys just in case they were as toxic and crazy as he was, he definitely turned you off men for a while…

the kiss began to get heated as your hand trailed down to his crotch to tease him, feeling him get hard as he twirls his fingers around the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your thighs. your dress is still on, but it is raised to give him more access. you let him continue as you feel your panties drop to the floor, making you gasp and giggle.

his fingers instantly begin rubbing your wet pussy, making you moan into the kiss. “fuck…” he says, breathing heavily as he pulls away from the kiss, both of you panting for air as he backs you up onto the countertop, slightly lifting you up to sit on it with your ass cheeks hanging off the edge.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, your hands cupping his face. his lips are inches away from yours as his hands grip the sides of your thighs. “you’re so hot…” he says, both of you drunk and lost in horniness. “you’re hot” you say, glancing down at his lips then back into his eyes. he takes this as a sign to kiss you again, so he does.

his hand rubs your pussy again, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness. “y’wanna fuck?” he asks, pulling away while his fingers toy with your clit, making you moan. “yeah…”

“i don’t have any condoms—”

“i don’t care, i’m on the pill” you cut him off, too horny to even give a fuck about extra protection. he smirks in response before making out with you again, your hands gripping the back of his t-shirt to pull it off and throw it on the floor.

topper has a great body, you couldn’t help but look down at his toned abs and almost drool at the sight. his removes his hands from you to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slightly along with his boxers. “i’m so hard” he pants, pulling his head away to look down at himself. “yeah? i’m so wet… fuck me…” you smirk, biting your lip as you tighten your legs around his waist, motioning for him to bring his dick to you.

without hesitation he pulls his boxers down, his hard cock springing out and hitting your leg. fuck, he was so big it made you wetter immediately. you lift your legs up some more, shifting your ass in an angle which easier for him to enter you. he grabs his dick and lines it up with your entrance, pushing the tip against it and hearing you gasp.

“fuck… you ready?” he asks, making you grin. he’s actually sweet when it comes to sex, he’s much less forceful and aggressive than rafe was. he asks questions instead of instantly going for what he wants. he respects you which makes you realize maybe not all guys are so bad.

“yeah” you nod, making eye contact with him as he slowly enters you, the both of you gasping at the feeling. “fuck… oh my god” you moan, throwing your head back as more of him enters you, filling you right up with his big cock. “look at me… i wanna look at your pretty face” he says, using his hand to gently pull your head back up.

hearing his words gave you butterflies in your belly and your pussy, his compliments and soft touches making you melt. “top…” you moan, clutching your arms around the back of his neck as your legs move with his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

“shiiit…” he groans, his pace getting rougher with each stroke. you make eye contact and kiss each other a few times before his kisses trail down your jaw and to your neck, where he sucks and bites on your skin. you unwrap your hands from around him and grip his shoulders instead, moaning as he thrusts hard.

you drunkenly fuck on the countertop for a while, kissing and giving each other hickeys. the eye contact he holds with you is insane. you couldn’t help but think about how different he was to rafe, given that he was the only guy you’d ever been with up until now. no matter how drunk you were, you will definitely not forget about this moment and how every thrust felt, every kiss, every little touch on your body…

“fuck… you feel so good,” you moan, looking at your lipstick stain all over topper’s mouth and giggling at it. “what?” he asks breathily, seeing you point at his mouth. he looks up into the mirror above your head and chuckles. “look at yours” he says, helping you turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged around your mouth. you both chuckle and you turn back around to face him, pulling him in for another kiss with as his hands play with your tits above your dress. you didn’t take it off, neither of you wanted to be too exposed being at a crowded party and all.

you went at it for a couple more minutes, moaning each other’s names and exploring each others bodies and mouths. the music downstairs was so loud that it boomed and echoed through the entire house, not allowing you to hear anything else from outside the bathroom, not even the footsteps coming up the stairs…

both of you were so lost in each other that it took a moment to realize that there were male voices just outside the door, “yeah, hold on” one guy says as he opens the door to the bathroom, needing to use it. both you and topper quickly turn your head in that direction to be met with rafe.

shit, you thought… you didn’t actually expect rafe to be the one person to walk in on you. “yo, what the fuck?” rafe says after pausing for a second and immediately getting angry. “rafe—” you say, but he cuts you off with a laugh as he shows kelce outside the door what was happening, but by now topper was already out of you and had his pants back up, and you had jumped off the counter to pull your dress down. “are you fucking for real?” rafe yells with amusement on his face, pointing at you and topper with an angry laugh as kelce says “yo…” in shock.

“rafe bro—” topper tries to speak but rafe doesn’t let him. “nah, are you serious?” rafe amuses angrily, still in disbelief of what he saw. “you come up here to fuck my ex? what the fuck?” rafe pipes up, pointing at himself before fully entering the bathroom, kelce still stood at the doorway. “rafe he’s—” you try to say, but rafe shushes you. “nuh uh, you shut the fuck up, i don’t wanna hear shit from your whore ass” rafe insults, yelling at you which made you flinch a little.

“rafe calm down bro” topper says, attempting to reach down to grab his t-shirt from the floor but rafe stops him and shoves him back. “don’t” you warn your ex with stern eyes, making him laugh. “ohhh, oh i see, you two fuckin’ each other now huh?” rafe jokes, looking over at kelce for backup. “no it’s not like that” you say, topper looking back at you as you briefly stand behind him, your panties still lying on the floor as you were too afraid to bend down and pick them up due to exposure.

“oh, it’s not?” he asks, getting aggressive as he yells in your face, his fists clenching in rage. “bro it was just a spur of the moment…” topper quickly tries defending himself, but rafe turns to look at him, “topper shut the fuck up bro before i beat your ass” he threatens.

“you— you’re just a fucking stupid slut, going for my friends? really?” rafe asks you, making out like this was entirely your fault. “well maybe don’t be such a rude asshole” you shrug, playing it off. now that you think about it, you really don’t care if you upset him or not. he deserves to feel betrayed by his ex and his best friend, he did nothing but bully you.

“really?—”

“yeah, really! you’re a fucking dick and topper here is better than you ever were,” you argue, not caring if you flash yourself as you bend down to snatch your underwear from the floor, shoving them back on. “really?” rafe laughs angrily, “yeah. and bigger, too.” you blurt out, shoving past him to storm out of the bathroom. those last words really ticked him off because you could hear him and topper screaming and yelling at each other as you head down the stairs.

part of you felt bad for leaving topper, but he deserves this, too. all throughout your relationship with rafe, topper was rude to you. he always backed rafe up when you two fought, always insulted you when rafe did, made fun of you like rafe did… tonight you saw a different side of topper, an affectionate and sweet side. maybe it was the wrong place at the wrong time, but who cares? hopefully this’ll ruin their friendship for messing with you.

you rush back to the living room in hopes to find your friends, and luckily you found two of them. “girls… we need to leave” you snicker, trying to hide your laugh. “why?” one yells over the music. “i just fucked topper” you giggle.

“what?!”

“you did what?!”

both friends gasp and widen their eyes. “i fucked topper and rafe walked in” you couldn’t help but laugh in excitement thinking about how much this’ll affect rafe. “oh my god!”

“i know, right?” you laugh as the two of your friends reach over to your third and final friend in the crowd to pull her out. “we’re leaving, let’s go” one says to her, seeing her frown. “why?” she asks, just as you see rafe walking down the stairs, probably trying to find you. “that’s why… come on” you say, pointing at rafe as the four of you quickly move through the crowd and dart for the door, all running out and laughing.

“girl, you’re crazy” one of the girls says to you as you all make it to the end of the driveway and pant for air. “i know… and he’ll kill me if we don’t get the fuck outta’ here” you drunkenly laugh, thinking of the situation as funny more than anything else.

all four of you head down the road and back in the direction of your house where you were prior to the party. “what the hell happened?” your third friend asks, looking at you with a frown. “she fucked topper.” another replies for you. “what? seriously? damn… rafe knows?” she widens her eyes. “rafe saw, he walked in” you giggle, seeing the shocked expression on her face. “holy shit…”

on the walk back home, you tell them all in detail what happened despite you stumbling your words drunkly. all you could think about now was what rafe was doing. was he hurt? did he feel betrayed? you can only hope so.

NOT PROOFREAD. this has been in my drafts for SO long but i only just finished it😭 i hope u guys enjoy!!!! <3 FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

english is not my first language so please feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes ◡̈

@cameronluvr

#╰┈➤#𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑺 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #toxic!rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #topper thornton #topper thorton x reader #topper thornton smut

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