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cashmoneyyysstuff · 10 months ago

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déjà vu

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.

bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.

or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.

you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.

“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.

“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”

he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”

“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.

you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.

“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.

“no you won’t.”

“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.

you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.

when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.

you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.

katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.

“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.

you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.

“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.

“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.

"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."

it's quiet for just moment.

and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.

"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.

"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."

he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.

there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.

katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.

'cus that's what heroes do.'

katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.

and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.

so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.

"mhm ! "

katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.

today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .

it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.

you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.

the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.

but you're quiet today.

you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.

and he doesn't like it.

when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.

"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.

you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.

you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.

you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.

"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.

"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.

"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.

"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."

"then what is ?" he raises a brow.

"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"

"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.

"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."

"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.

"shut up." he growls.

"katsuki—"

"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feel your cheeks warm at the proximity, you’re close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.

you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.

the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.

"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."

your heart stutters.

" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"

"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.

" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."

"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.

"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.

" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"

"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.

"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.

"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.

" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."

"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.

he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.

he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.

"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.

your asshole, though, your heart decides.

you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.

" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"

you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.

"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."

"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "

"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."

you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"

"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.

"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.

"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"

"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.

"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.

"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.

you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.

"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.

so cool.

it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.

and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.

katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.

usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.

you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.

he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.

"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.

he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded

you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"

"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.

he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.

"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.

"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.

"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"

"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"

he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.

you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.

and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.

so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.

"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"

he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.

and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.

so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.

he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.

and always, always come back to you.

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https-lvesick · 8 days ago

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AESPA & THEIR KINKS!

❪ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ❫ 𝒩 otes ⋮ aespa x fem!reader. i have a lot of things to write, but when someone asked for “aespa kinks” something in my mind just clicked... yes, i'm a sucker for them

NIPPLE PLAY | just how you love her boobs, she loves yours. gets messy really easily just by sucking your nipples. drools all over them and starts whining because she's already hot and bothered. if you have piercings, she'll tug on them to tease you and have the time of her life.

THIGH RIDING | usually, karina rides your thigh when she's undeniably needy and needs to cum as soon as possible. frequently done when she gets wet just by playing with your boobs.

FINGERING | she puts you in front of a mirror, between her legs and makes a mess of you. streches your hole with her fingers and when you start squirming and whining, she stops, watching your arousal dripping from you cunt on the bedsheets, hypnotized. when you complain, begging her to let you cum, she does, cooing in your ear, praising her little good girl.

MOMMY KINK | loves being called mommy because she loves taking care of you. treats you just right, stimulating you the way you like and praising you. as soon as the word falls from your lips, she's kissing and climbing onto your lap.

QUIROFILIA | karina is just obsessed with your hands, from the palm to the fingers, and absolutely loves when you come home with a new manicure. constantly playing with your fingers or just putting your hand on her thigh. she can't help but imagine how good you are with your hands, making her drool all over your fingers or just having them inside her. she definitely gets wet by that.

MORNING HEAD | giselle loves waking her girl up with a head, she says it's the best way to assure your day goes well. starts kissing your thighs while removing your bottom parts, then she plays with your clit, pinching and twisting it until you get wet, then she dives in. gives you the sloppiest head ever so you wake up quickly. makes sure to get her girl cumming on her tongue at least twice, then she lets you go.

BONDAGE | only when she's pissed off, not necessarily with you, but she needs to relieve her stress with something and that little thing is you. you're her toy, her pretty and obedient toy and she won't let you say or do anything she doesn't want to. puts your ass up and face down and ties you to the bed, blindfolds you and gets her whip.

SPANKING | always spanks you! no matter if you were a good girl or a bad girl, you are going to receive it. she loves your ass and it's almost a physical need to spank your ass and thighs until they're numb. after that, she licks and scatter kisses all over the affected parts.

CHOKING | the first times she did it, she didn't wanna hurt you, but she can't deny that the way you look so helpless turns her on and you too! every time she chokes you, you clench harder and drip even more, making her fucking proud.

MARKING | winter is kinda possessive of you, so she does anything in her power to make sure people know you're hers. she always marks you, whether it be her nail scratches or hickeys on your body. and she always smears her cum on you, making sure you smell just like her.

BULGE KINK | bought a bigger strap just for her baby. she wanted to try something and now is obsessed with it. makes you wet her cock in the messiest way you can find so you finally sit on it. her eager gaze is stuck on your belly as you sink deeper and deeper in the strap. she couldn't wait for you and was deeply sorry for that, but she needed to fuck you hard. you were just so pretty having her cock bulging in your tummy :(

RECORDING | she gets proud of herself every time she makes you feel good and needs to replay every expression you make. makes you sit on the floor while she stands up and rides your face and these are her favorite videos.

PUBLIC SEX | see, she loves doing it in public because she push your limits and your helpless state is priceless to her, but don't get her wrong, she's not a exhibitionist. you're hers and your pleasure is for her eyes only. loves to control your orgasm in public just to see your pretty face scrunched when you try to calm yourself to not let people notice.

FACE SITTING | this woman is a tease. ningning absolutely loves riding your face because that's the only time when she's “in charge” and she loves to tease you with it. she suffocates you, staying longer in your nose, but she can't keep that attitude, since she gets desperate easily.

SEXTING | again, a total tease. it's all unintentional, at least for you. she is the one who starts it. if you're away from each other, in a party, for example, she gets her phone and texts you, just to say how much she wants you, or how her pussy is wet just by looking at you all pretty. and she stands by what she said! not regretting any word, even when you're ready to treat her like the slut she is.

EDGING | keeps saying she hates it, but keeps begging for it, you don't really understand. whines, breathy moans and her unquiet hands holding you, begging you to stop and leave her, but when you do as she says, she complains. then how can you please your girl?

DIRTY TALK | has the dirtiest pretty mouth and uses against you. whispers dirty things in your ear to work you up and even uses her hands. be it on your thighs, sneaking under your tops or ligering a bit longer on your crotch, your girl is always down to make you go insane. rather do it in public though and that's why is dangerous going out with ningning.

CHOKING | when she gets too impacient because you're taking too long, she guides your hand to her throat and makes you squeeze. her eyes roll to the back of her head whenever you choke her. the first time she asked (begged) you to choke her, you were worried, especially because she was getting red because of the lack of air, but as soon as you noticed her cum dripping down her legs, it was gone.

SCISSORING | it is a must for her, if you don't scissor, then you don't love her! she needs to feel your pussy rubbing against hers and the thought alone is enough to make her cum. when she is close to her orgasm, she starts to pick up her movements and, eventually, squirt on you.

#aespa smut #aespa imagines #aespa fanfic #karina imagines #karina smut #giselle fanfic #giselle smut #winter fanfic #winter imagines #ningning fanfic #ningning smut #winter smut #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x you

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number1mingyustan · 2 months ago

Note

can you write a virgin fem reader x mingyu, established rs au like that wonwoo’s one 🥺🙏🏻🤲🏻

bf!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: explicit smut, kissing, cursing, fingering (f)., grinding, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, mentions of oral (m.)

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"How long do I have to keep this on?" Mingyu asks with a pout.

You're seated on his lap, straddling him as you press the sheet mask down on his face. He's sitting on the toilet seat with his eyes closed.

"15 minutes," You tell him, smoothing the mask over his face. You pop up off his lap. "All done!"

He stands up and looks at himself in the bathroom. You stand there next to him, looking just like his twin. Both of you have your hair up in a messy bun, wearing matching pajamas and sheet masks.

Even with the mask, he can see you smiling.

Cute, He thinks to himself.

Looking at you warms his heart. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this, the domesticity. It's your first actual sleepover as a couple and he's already looking forward to making this a regular thing in his life.

He won't admit it out loud though, can't give you the satisfaction of knowing he he enjoys the cheesy slumber party activities you have planned.

You then insist on taking mirror pictures with him, to which he pretends he doesn't enjoy. Once you're finally satisfied, you're running off to the kitchen, yelling about how the cookies should be ready to bake.

He follows behind you and you're already raking through his cabinets for a baking sheet. You pull the pan out and place it on the counter.

"Be a dear and grab the cookie dough out the fridge?" You ask as you line the sheet with parchment paper.

He agrees silently, smiling to himself as you take control of his living space. It brings him joy to see you so comfortable here.

He grabs the wrapped-up cookie dough you two made (you made it and he washed the dishes and stayed out of your way) and hands it to you. You form the dough into balls while he preheats the oven and washes up the last of the dishes.

You pop the pan into the oven and allow the cookies to bake before dashing into the living room and scrolling through to find something to watch to end your night.

...

A few hours later, you're cuddled up in bed, bellies full from the cookies and comfortable. His arms are wrapped around your frame as you've designated yourself little spoon.

You've already fallen into a state of slumber, chest rising and falling as small snores evade your lips. He holds you in his arms, front side pressed against your back and he tries to will himself to sleep.

This night has been nothing short of perfect and wholesome and he fears he's about to ruin that.

Mingyu has found himself in a bit of a... hard place.

Since it if your first night together, Mingyu is still learning a lot about you. And tonight he's learned that you move around in your sleep, a lot.

The material of your matching pajama pants is thin and with you practically grinding against him for the past 10 minutes, Mingyu finds himself struggling.

He can't help it, it's completely normal. But he feels like such a pervert. He tries to think about something else, anything else. But then you start moving and he's screwed.

He feels so bad. He knows you're a virgin, and it's still early in your relationship. This was supposed to be a wholesome night, but now he's got a raging hard-on and it's aching uncomfortably in his pants for relief.

You shift in your sleep again, pressing your ass up against him more and he fucking moans.

His heart drops, he hopes you didn't hear that.

"Gyu?"

Fuck, you totally heard that.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks.

"You okay? Sounds like you're in pain." He shifts again.

You reach over, turning on the lamp.

"-And something poking–oh."

His heart drops and silence fills the atmosphere.

Okay so he's in a little bit of a pickle. A dilemma if you will. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, but he's also really fucking uncomfortable right now.

If it wasn't dark in here and you were to turn around you would see how red his face flushes in embarrassment.

"Sorry," He apologizes sincerely. "You were moving a lot and it just kind of... happened."

You shift again, turning to face him. "It's okay." You say in just above a whisper.

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. I'll just sleep it off, ignore it honestly."

"Was already getting uncomfortable Gyu," You whisper.

Before he can question you, you're guiding his hand between your thighs, slipping below the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear.

"Oh shit-" He whispers.

"What do you want baby? I'll take it slow." He breathes out.

"Your fingers–" You moan out. "Wanna cum on your fingers–fuck–please."

"Are you sure?"

You nod. "Please."

He's quick to oblige, applying more pressure to your clit as he draws circles around your sensitive bud. You let out a sob, pushing your hips against his fingers.

He knows you need more than this.

Who knew you could be so needy?

He stops his movements to strip you of the layers covering your lower half. He lays you on your back, hovering his body over yours as he slips a finger into you.

He starts slow, pumping at a steady pace before slipping in a second finger.

"Ngh–" You moan.

He curls his fingers, pressing his digits against your inner walls to satisfaction. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his pajama paints.

His length throbs, aching as he leaks precum, wetting the front of his pants. As distracting as it may be, he keeps his focus on you. His own pleasure is far out of his mind as his pace increases.

He pumps his fingers into you, harder and faster. You writhe beneath him, bucking your hips up to meet the rhythm of his fingers.

Oh fuck– this is so good. You've never experienced this kind of pleasure before. His fingers are much better than your own. Longer, thicker, and much more skilled. You can't help but be curious about how it would feel to have more.

The image flashes across your brain. Having all of him inside of you, filling you up inch by inch as his body weight crushes you. The rhythm of his hips, the sounds he would make, the feeling of his cock...

But you shake the thought and decide not to be greedy. Mingyu is doing a great job right now, drawing you toward the brink of an orgasm much faster than your own fingers ever have.

You squeeze your eyes shut, small hand gripping his forearm as he works his fingers inside of you. You feel your lower tummy tighten, and you moan out.

"Close–hah fuck, 'M close," You warn him.

He draws circles around your clit with his thumb as his fingers work inside of you. The sudden shock of pleasure causes you to instinctively shut your legs closed.

He sucks his teeth in disapproval, prying your legs back open with his other hand and forcing them to stay that way. You let out a sob as he continues his ministrations and elicits a proper orgasm out of you.

Your hips grind against his fingers as the pleasure courses through your body. You cry out his name, tightening your grip on his arm as he draws out your pleasure.

He hums in approval, eyes glued on you as he watches you ride out your orgasm. He wants this image forever etched in his mind and he has every intention of making it happen again.

His hand slows as you come down before he pulls out of you completely. He licks his fingers with a grin and sits you up on the bed.

"How do you feel?" he asks, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Fuck Gyu.." You breathe out with a grin. "incredible."

He smiles. "Glad I could help."

He plants a kiss on your forehead and you feel his body weight leave the bed. "I'm gonna get you something to drink."

You groan, holding onto his arm and pulling his body back. "Don't go."

"I'll be right back," He chuckles. "I swear."

You pout, eyes shifting between his face and the obvious tent sprouting in his pants. "Don't go, wanna suck your dick."

You pull at him, again, but this time his body falls onto the bed. You completely caught him off guard with that. You climb on top of him, straddling him as you pull up his wifebeater and your palms rub against his chest. "Please?"

"Shit baby–I don’t know if you should–"

You frown. "But I wanna."

"I don't think you can handle it yet, baby," He breathes out.

Mindlessly, you begin grinding down on him. The feeling of his hard cock against your already sensitive clit is exhilarating. "I think I can."

He lets out a groan, tilting his head back and showing off his adam's apple. He rests his body weight on his elbows, licking his lips as his throat dries up. He's so sensitive right now and having you on top of him is not helping. He's afraid he'll cum as soon as you take him in your mouth.

"Fuck–uh..." He groans. "What are you doing?"

Now the wet spot on his pants has grown. You're leaking as you grind down on him and it's driving him crazy. Your clit throbs against him, aching for more and building up to another orgasm.

You're still sensitive and the craving you have only grows.

"I'm not–hah–doing anything–fuck!" You moan as you grind down on him.

Your hips pick up in pace and you've long forgotten about your original objective. It just feels so good, too good."

You grip the bed sheets as you continue to grind against him. Both of you let out a string of breathy moans and groans. It's pathetic almost, the way you're humping each other like horny teens, but fuck–it's getting the job done.

His hands grip your waist and he guides your body as you grind against him. His eyes fall shut and his hips begin to match the set rhythm.

"Shit..." He whispers.

It doesn't take long before you're cumming again, this time leaking against his clothed cock as you moan out with your plans pressed flat against his chest. Your head falls back and you ride out your orgasm, driving him into his.

He lets out a long groan as the stain on his pants grows again.

You both breathe heavily as you come down, staring at each other with half-lidded and hazy eyes. He sits up, pushing your hair out of your face once again, and kisses you softly. The kiss lasts longer than anticipated as you lose yourselves in one another. You don't let it escalate again however, pulling away, and pressing your foreheads together.

You poke out your bottom lip and pout. "Wanted to suck you off."

"Shit Y/n," he lifts you off his lap. "You're crazy."

You giggle. "Sorry, you bring out a different side of me."

He sucks in his breath. "Here I was trying to be all respectful and you're acting all freaky."

You grin, planting another kiss on his lips as you lay side by side. He changes into a fresh pair of sweats and hands you one of his t-shirts before venturing into the kitchen to get the drink he promised.

He grins when he sees you wearing his shirt and hands you a glass of water. He kisses your forehead again nd climbs into bed with you for the night.

This time, you both fall asleep peacefully through the night undisturbed.

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#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen drabbles #mingyu smut #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #asks #kpop

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sunsetchicane · 3 months ago

Text

tired eyes [CL16]

charles leclerc x PhD student!fem!reader

word count: 3k

summary: The one where you're exhausted from your studies but you still really want your sweet boyfriend.

warnings: 18+ content!! minors DNI!! sleepiness, mentions of school/exams (lol), kissing, smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v (use a rain jacket PLEASE), tiny bit of swearing maybe? praise/worshiping kinda..., unedited :|

author's note: Smut with a fragment of plot. Oops. I'll see myself out. Feedback is really appreciated so please leave any comments/questions you have!!!! [xoxo elle]

It had been a long day. No. It had been a long semester. Your last exam week is finally over. After countless hours of attending class, completing assignments, and studying, you made it to the end of your last year of school. You’d officially earned a PhD.

And you were exhausted.

All but falling into your apartment, you arrive at home in the mid afternoon. Dropping your bag onto the floor, you make your presence known to your boyfriend. Charles texted you earlier that day to tell you he would be dropping by to see you when you were done. This morning, you had been really excited about seeing him and maybe even doing a little celebrating. But that was no longer an option, seeing as you can barely stand up on your own.

“Amour?” Charles' voice rings out from the kitchen.

Tired legs guide you towards him, your eyes drooping and shoulders sagging. When you turn the corner to find him huddled over a small cake, you nearly drop to the ground. He hears you rustling about and turns to you with a huge smile covering his face. His dimples pop, making you melt a little. But, you can’t miss the bags that he too is sporting under his eyes or the way his hair is messy in the truly unkempt way. He looks nearly as tired as you feel.

“I have a gift for you.” Charles says, his voice strained but joyful. Momentarily, he turns away from you to pick up the cake. Once he has it in his hands, he approaches you carefully.

It’s a small, round cake, just big enough for the two of you. The frosting is pink and there are little edible flowers scattered across it. On the top in red, looping letters is congratulations doctor.

A cracked breath leads to a sob. Tears drop quick and hot against your skin.

“Thank you,” You choke out, a hand reaching towards Charles’ face. You can’t see him through your tears, but his concern is palpable. He sets the cake down on the counter, discarding it for the moment being.

Charles’ arms wrap tight around your waist, drawing your body flush to his. Your arms loop under his, resting against his broad back. With your face pressed into his chest, you allow yourself a few moments to just let it all out. It’s been a long road to get here and you’ve finally done it. Charles has been your biggest supporter. You couldn’t be happier to share this moment with him. This is everything to you; he’s everything to you.

Once you’ve cried all of your tears, you take a shaky breath. Your nose fills with the scent of him. A chill runs over your shoulders and down your spine. His grip on you hasn’t loosened. Gently, his fingers flex against your body, lulling your muscles to a relaxed state.

Clarity falls over you as the haze in your eyes disappears. It wasn’t just you who had a long day. Charles was obviously exhausted too, but here he was, taking care of you.

“Charles,” You mumble, turning your face to the side so you can look at him.

“Hmm?” He hums while looking down at you. His hands have started to move up and down your back, caressing you gently.

Pushing yourself up onto your toes, you press a sleepy kiss to his soft lips. His unshaven stubble rubs pleasantly against your face, making you feel perfectly at home. This is your Charles.

One of his hands comes up to rest against the back of your neck, adjusting the angle of the kiss to pull you deeper. Simple, languid sighs escape your lips while you kiss gently. Everything about it is perfect, slow, sensual.

In no universe would you ever grow tired of his kiss. Charles was made for you, and you for him. It’s never been this way with anyone else. Even when you’re both too tired to say anything, you know exactly what the other needs.

And right now, you need him.

“Charles,” You say against his lips, your hand dragging its way around the hem of his pants. “Can you take me to my bed, please?”

Kissing you lightly, he nods his head. Gently, he guides your legs around his hips. Holding you with kind but firm hands, he exits the kitchen and heads for your bedroom.

Your head is tucked into the crook of his neck, blocking out the world around you. You listen to him pad across the apartment, open the door to your bedroom, and then close it.

Gently, he crawls both of you onto the bed. Your head hits the pillows and you let out a sigh. The cushiony warmth of your bed surrounds you, filling you with a relief like none other. Charles leaves you for a split second to turn on your bedside lamp. It casts a warm glow over the room and across Charles’ face, which hovers above you.

With sleepy eyes, you gaze at his beautiful face. Even when he’s exhausted, he still looks like an angel. It’s not fair how gorgeous he is.

Reaching up, you trace along the edges and curves of his face with soft fingers. His eyes slide closed while he relaxes into your touch. It’s so peaceful to be here with him, to be met in this place by him.

Allowing your hand to slip around his nape, you pull him into another kiss. His response is immediate. A hand latches onto your hip, pulling it up to press against him. Your back arches and a gasp escapes your lips. Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You desperately love the way he feels against you. There’s an indescribable friction between you, like a match to a matchbox. Alone, you don’t live up to your full potential, a crucial piece missing. But when you’re together, there’s warmth and flame.

Tentatively, Charles rolls his hips into yours. Sighing into his mouth, you wish you could articulate to him just how much you loved it. He does it again, sending your mind spiraling.

“I need you,” You whisper to Charles as he peppers kisses down your neck. You ghost your hands down his back, letting them come to rest on his lower back. Too tired to pull him closer to you, you let him move at his own pace. Charles hums into your ear, his body pushing down against yours. His weight on top of you feels heavenly, exactly what you needed today–what you need everyday.

Charles’ languid movements accentuate the tenderness of the moment. It’s not lacking passion by any means, but everything about right now expresses the deepness of the affection you hold for one another. It’s slow, sensual, and sleepy.

His kiss works over your lips like the sun over a cool summer’s day. His hands flit over and caress your body like the tide ebbs and flows over the sand of the beach. Charles feels like your personal perpetual light source, constant and intimate and warm. The chill of exhaustion is thawed by simply being in Charles’ presence. Love flows freely through your tired body, bringing a pleasant flush to your cheeks and warmth to every bit of you.

“Amour. Mon amour.” Charles whispers while his lips drag down your jaw. Sighing, your hands knead gently at the lean muscle of his back. Feathery kisses are placed everywhere by your boyfriend as he works his way around your body. Your skin bursts out in goosebumps wherever his lips land.

Silently, you watch as Charles leans back, his weight disappearing from on top of you. You’re about to object when he begins to slip his shirt over his head. The fabric creeps up his torso and you watch in quiet pleasure as he exposes himself to you.

“Like what you see, baby?” Charles teases, his voice soft but gravely.

“Mhmm,” You mumble, not having the energy to tease him back. Reaching your hands out to rest against his bare waist, you’re desperate to have his warm, smooth skin against yours. Charles slides his hands slowly over yours, then down your wrists and up your arms. With strong arms, he lifts you toward him. You oblige, sitting up in front of him. He kisses you once softly while his fingers find the bottom hem of your shirt. Gratefully, you let him slip off the shirt, your bra quick to follow. A small pile of your laundry twisted with his has begun to grow on your bedroom floor.

Gently, Charles holds you in both hands while leaning you back down against the bed. His chest is flush with yours, the skin to skin contact making you blush and sigh. Closing your eyes tight and pushing your head back into the pillows, you wonder how your body is even registering how good this feels while you’re so tired. But you’re not complaining.

“So beautiful, baby.” Charles says, causing you to open your eyes to peer into his green ones. His lips drag down the column of your throat in an open mouth kiss before he gets to your chest. Lazily, he takes one of your breasts into his mouth, his warm tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple. A pinched gasp exits your throat while your hands fly up to tangle in Charles’ fluffy hair. His hands hold fast over your ribs, applying the perfect amount of pressure while he languidly has his way with your chest.

Watching him with silent wonder, your eyes rarely fall away from each other.

“Wanna,” His lips unlatch from your nipple which is stiff with your arousal.

“Make,” He presses a kiss to your sternum.

“You,” His tongue drags down your stomach.

“Feel,” He nips softly at the soft skin of your waist.

“So good,” He presses a soothing kiss to the bite he left.

Absentmindedly, you find yourself nodding, completely transfixed on the man between your legs. He’s everything you could have asked for and more. Sugar sweet, gentle, kind, passionate, funny. There hasn’t been a moment when you were with Charles and there wasn’t joy to be felt. Even on the shittiest days to exist, like today, you both know exactly what the other needs. You complete each other in more ways than one. But right now, you’re desperate for him to complete you in a very specific way.

Charles has made quick work of both your pants and underwear. Lifting your lower back with a hand, he slides a pillow beneath it so you’re already arching upward.

“Comfortable?” Charles asks while his lips glide over your thighs and his hands pull them both over his shoulders. Nodding at him, you watch as best you can as he finally moves his face over your center. Hot breath fans over your sensitive skin, making you groan and arch, your head pushing back into the bed.

“Charles,” His name rolls from your mouth like a prayer when his tongue passes through your folds. Soft hums rumble Charles’ chest when he takes you into his mouth. The vibrations shoot straight through you, causing you to clench your body and gasp.

Your boyfriend goes about his work between your thighs. His tongue circles perfectly around your clit and teases your entrance every once in a while. Flurries of pleasure run rampant in your body, collecting low inside of you. Charles brings pleasure with every touch, every flick of his tongue, every squeeze of his hands on your thighs.

When you feel a finger push inside of you, pumping slow and hard, your body jolts with pleasure. Back arching, you bury your fingers into Charles' hair while letting out a sharp moan.

“That’s it, baby.” Charles says while briefly pulling his lips away from your cunt to press kisses along your sweat and slick soaked thighs. “Such a hard working, good girl. You deserve this.”

His words make you clutch his hair in your hands and moan. Charles returns his tongue to your clit, working it in the way that only he knows how. The sensation of his fingers curling inside of you in tandem with his lips on your clit has you clenching. Your tired body comes alive with the buzz of your impending orgasm.

“Please, Charlie, feels so good.” You beg quietly, your voice coming out tired and needy. Charles speeds up and adds another finger inside of you. He sucks mercilessly on your clit as you unleash a string of stuttering moans and curses.

“So close, baby.” You mumble, unable to speak any louder than a whisper. Charles hears you anyway, both your words and your body telling him how close you are.

“Taste so sweet, my girl.” Charles says while coaxing you to the knife’s edge. With a few more swirls of his tongue and pumps of his thick fingers, your pleasure bursts and releases to your entire body. Shaking and gasping, sparks fly behind your closed eyes. Your legs attempt to snap shut, but Charles’ body stops them from moving. He continues to stroke in and out of you while your body crescendos.

Once you’ve settled back into your own body after the life-altering orgasm you just experienced, your breathing is ragged and you’re still desperate for Charles. Gazing at him with hooded eyes, you don’t miss the way one of his hands is now stuck down his boxers, moving just slightly. His eyes are on you while he pumps himself.

Grabbing his arms with your exhausted and fucked-out hands, you try to haul him back on top of you. Obliging to your wishes, Charles’ hand leaves his boxers so he can crawl up to hover over you. His lips are quick to find yours, letting you taste yourself on his swollen lips. Kissing him slowly, you slip your hands down over his chest and stomach. Without a second thought, you hand pass under the hem of his underwear to wrap around him.

His sharp sigh against your lips has you smiling sleepily. His forehead drops to the crook of your neck as your hand works up and down his erection. His breathing grows choppy as he rolls his hips into your hand, trusting softly.

“Need you inside of me,” You whisper into his ear. His hips stutter as he groans into the soft skin of your neck. Together, you push his boxers down his legs, the final piece of clothing joining your small pile.

Charles’ hands run down your body, caressing your curves as he goes. One of his hands props himself up over you, while the other knocks your bent knee to his hip. Reaching between your bodies, you line him up with your entrance.

You groan in unison as he slides home. Charles takes his time as he pushes into you, relishing the warmth and the tight squeeze of your walls. Ever since you got on birth control, condoms have become a thing of the past. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of having not a single thing between the two of you.

Charles pulls out painfully slow, gliding against you in a tortuous way. The pleasure that trails his moment feels so full and complete, it has your stomach tying in knots. Your fingers dig into his back, your back arching at the sensations fluttering around in your body.

Then when he pushes back in, your world is set on fire. He dives slow but hard into the one place inside of you that nearly makes your scream. Your entire body cries out to him, clenching and singing at the way he feels.

Over and over again, he works himself in and out of you. His pace is sensual and lovely, but equally as damning.

“You’re so tight, baby.” Charles praises breathlessly, his hand tightening around your leg to pull it higher. The angle switches just slightly and he hits a new spot inside of you.

You chant his name, begging him for more, more of whatever he’ll give you. He praises you and you bask in the grunts and moans that spill from his gorgeous lips. Together, you find the perfect rhythm that has you both shuddering and struggling to keep from coming undone.

When Charles guides your leg to wrap around his waist, he uses his free hand to reach between you and resume circling your clit. Moans wrack your body as your legs shake around Charles’ body. You clench around him and feel his pace slipping.

“I’m so close, mon amour.” He tells you while frantically circling your clit, obviously determined to pull you over the edge with him. And it works. Just as soon as you reach your climax, Charles follows, pumping in and out of you sporadically.

Stars spill over your vision as your body buzzes with your orgasm. Charles’ body has flopped down on yours, the perfect thing to pull you back into reality. Lazily, your fingers move up and down his warm back. Exhaustion creeps in once again, threatening to pull you into a luxurious sleep. Charles isn’t helping, his lips pressing his signature soft kisses against your sensitive neck. Everything feels so comfortable and incandescently happy, lulling you toward the peaceful state of sleep you’ve been wishing for. Your hands draw still against Charles’ back while your eyes begin to flutter closed.

“Wait, mon ange. Wake up, beautiful, we have to get you cleaned up.” Charles says while he takes your face in his hands. Groaning, you try to ignore the soft kisses that he leaves on your skin in attempt to keep you awake.

Suddenly, you’re being pulled from the warm comfort of your bed and into the arms of your boyfriend. Curling up into his chest, you flop lazily against him while he brings the both of you into the bathroom.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He whispers into your hair just before you hear the water of the shower turn on. “I’ve got you."

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mtchacrvle · 2 months ago

Text

- 🌹Yandere! Clingy prince Alphabet.

🪻note🪻yandere behaviour. And a little bit of NSFW if you squint hard enough. ( not proofread )

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

-🌹 yandere prince or his real name Raizel, love to show his affection with physical touch. Such as, kissing, hugging, cuddling, etc. Any sort of physical touch as long as it's from you, he'll love it.

It could get pretty intense honestly, well, his name ain't clingy prince for nothing lol. Anyways, if he wakes up from his sleep/nap, and you're not there besides him, he'll turn the whole castle upside down. And when he finally finds you, baby girl, there's no way you're getting out of his grasp. You have other plans ? Cancel it. Cause

His clingy percentage is at 99%. Going to the bathroom? He'll be there. Going out to have a tea party with the other noblewoman? He'll be joining you in disguise, wearing a soft pink dress with a big ass hat to protect his face and you know damn well he'll demand the maids to put make up on his face and make him look like a woman. This mf would even learn to walk in heels just for you. And trust me when I tell you he has done this before, I mean it. Going on a walk at the garden? He'll excuse all the maid and he'll gladly hold the umbrella for you, with his right hand holding the umbrella and his left hand on your waist.

Overall, his very freaking clingy man. Since the minute he realises his feelings for you. that's your queue to say bye-bye to your freedom and your personal space. But mostly your personal space lol.

———

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

-🌹 Very messy. If someone hurts your feelings, even for a little bit. Their head will be off. He can't wait to be the emperor so that he can publicly show who you belong to and how much you guys are in love with each other.

He can have blood head to toe and still loves you dearly. He never sees this as a burden. No no. They disrespect you. They deserve this. You are an angel, his angel. Nothing can get between the two of you. He'll be torturing the prisoner while laughing and smiling and while thinking of you.

To sum it up, he is cray cray for you and would do anything. (⁠⑉⁠⊙⁠ȏ⁠⊙⁠)

———

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

-🌹 Never. It won't take long until he snaps, but after he kidnapped you, he won't mock nor made fun of you. But it's more into the opposite.

He'll be very gentle and soft with you. He'll even go as far as change the whole castle to your liking. Just say the word. You don't like dark colour? You want to change it to pink and purple? Sure! He'll fill out his room and office with all the books you like. You like sweets? Just nod and you'll have more than 60 different kinds of deserts and sweets in front of you.

———

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

- 🌹 uh yes? If you are not into physical touch, that's something he'll force on you. He'll kiss, hug, cuddle you even tho you clearly stated that you don't like it. He just doesn't care.

He lives for your touch. He needs to touch you even a little bit so that he won't lose his sanity. You're the only one that has been keeping him sane. He even goes as far as tying you up if you won't stop squirming and hitting him when he tries to give you affection. If you still won't stop squirming, he'll cry so damn hard. Snort even started to fall out of his nose, his eyes were red. And he'll keep on asking " why can't you just let him love you ", " I don't care if you hate it! You don't have to return the affection just let me love you! ".

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

- 🌹 It won't take long for him to open up for you. To him, when 2 people are in love with each other, there would be no secrets between them. So he would rant out to you about his whole childhood to you. He is very good and communicates too, he'll reassure you if you ever felt insecure or if you feel like he doesn't love you anymore.

____

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

- 🌹He would be very hurt by it but would won't show it to you because he don't want you to view him as "weak". Again he'll gladly tie you up if you won't stop fighting back. But don't worry, he won't hurt you. He'll only suffocate you with his hugs and love. So it's not THAT bad.

_____

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

- 🌹 Nope. These whole things aren't a game to him. Even tho sometimes you would question his actions either he really loves you or he just plays with you. And every time you ask him this, his face will drop immediately because how can you say that? He would be so confused as why would you even think that. " What makes you say that my love?! ", " am I not giving you enough love? Is that it? ", " don't EVER say that, my love for you is not a stupid game. I wish you would be able to see just how big my love for you ".

Enjoy if his darling escape? Babe the second he didn't see or have you by him he would go berserk. Sweet puppy like and clingy Raizel that you know? Gone. It's like you don't even know him. And speaking of escape. Yea, the chances of you escaping are very..very..low. with how clingy and touchy he is, yea you won't be able to escape. The top 3 reasons why you WON'T escape :

1. He's very fucking clingy (duh)

2. The security is tight af. If he can't or won't be able to cling to your side, he'll send not 1, not 2, nor 3 knights, but 5. Yea.. you bet all 6 of them are bulky ASF lol. Why 5 you ask? Well... 1 for you left, 1 for your right, 2 from your back and 2 sitting in front of you. (As if you can't protect yourself)

3. The maids, servants, butlers, knights, gardeners, cookers, everyone there would tattle if you even set food outside the bedroom. Yea all of them are snitches. Can't trust none of them.

So...yea.

____

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

- 🌹 Other than his clingy and touchy tendencies, he also very jealous, possessive and obsessive. When the emperor throws a welcoming party for Raizel younger brother, a duke from different nations has been hitting on you right in front of him. (Yea not a very smart move) he tries to be nice at first but when the duke won't budge, that's when he punches the duke nose and stab his eyes with a sword in front of the other guests.

The emperor saw this and he is proud. Yup you read that right. He is PROUD. Well the emperor ain't that sane and innocent either. He kidnapped Raizel's mother and baby trapped her. So you could say that he's proud because Raizel has his yandere and cray cray tendencies. Like father like son. And did the guest say or did anything? Nope. They just pretend nothing happens and just continue with what they're doing.

____

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

-🌹 Babies. Lots of em. Sure he's clingy, but he still needs an heir. And plus, he can imagine what it's like when you guys have children. Whose eyes would they have? It would be so adorable if the kid has your features and his personality, so that they can protect and keep an eye on you when he's not around.

The second he gets the news that you're pregnant, the whole castle would be baby proof. Every stairs would have at least 5 guards. 2 maids, 2 butlers, 4 knights would entertain your kid.

When you're pregnant, he's clingy tendencies would only increase. Whenever he goes, he would pick you up and bring you with him. He did most of the work for you, feeding you, dressing you, bathing you, picking your clothes. Everything. Oh your tummy hurts because the baby won't stop kicking? He'll rub and scold his child for hurting you. Your back and feet hurt? Come here, he'll rub and massage you until you feel better. He'll even go as far as rubbing and sucking for breast if that hurts too. Overall, he's not a bad husband or a bad father. As long as you just accept your fate and just become his, he'll give you everything you could've asked for. Nothing is too expansive or too impossible when it comes to you.

____

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

_🌹 He'll lash out his jealousy, but don't worry he won't harm or lash it out on you. He would find something or someone to take his anger out. Preferably someone who makes his jealousy kick in.

Let's just say if one day his jealousy gets out of hand and you're sure he will be throwing hands, you can "calm" his jealousy by holding him back while giving him a kiss on the cheeks or holding any part of his body. Touch his bicep or hand and ask him to calm down, he'll FLOP. He will forget why he is mad in the first place and will demand ask you to not stop touching him. If you did stop, he'll pout and sulk so bad that you started to feel bad. In the end, you always gave in, so he pout and sulk did its job lol.

____

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

-🌹On my first post about Raizel, he is a brat that always try to get y/n on trouble, he is the pain in the ass and yet, y/n still being patient with him. But what if you are not his knight? Perhaps a princess from a different kingdom?

If you are a princess, he'll approach you rather normally. Well normal in his eyes. Raizel doesn't believe in love at first sight and it would take a lot for him to like you. Let's just say that he has been keeping an eye on you for a couple of months. He'll probably ask you to dance with him and he'll make sure that your first dance is with him. After the dance is over, he won't let you go. He'll ask you if you would like to take a walk with him and he would try to get you to know better. He'll slowly try to seduce you before kidnapping you.

____

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

-🌹 He's sweet and soft ONLY to you. His darling. In his eyes, you are fragile and soft. He couldn't even have the heart to get mad at you. You never do wrong in his eyes. And yes, he's very different from everyone else. Even with the emperor and the empress. So it would shock both the emperor and empress when they see how affectionate he is when he's with you. But once you are not with him? Forget different, he's a whole new person. Everything irritates him. Someone sneeze or cough? He'll be yelling and throwing hands. All the servants walk in an egg shell when you're not around him. That's why, whenever you suddenly show up to his office,the prince would smile and run towards you. While the servant relaxed. He'll always send the servants out because he wants you to pour affection for him and he doesn't want anyone to see it.

____

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

-🌹 He's the type to "punish" you with his presence lol. He'll tie you on the bed, and would cuddle, kiss you however he likes. And in the morning, if he has work to finish, he'll drag you with him. One time, he dragged you to one of his meetings with other kingdoms, you want to go to the bathroom. He insisted on coming with you. And he did. The emperor just smiles and shakes his head. In the emperor's eyes, the prince reminds him of his younger self when he first laid eyes on the empress (Raizel mother). Oh good ol days.

____

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

-🌹 Eh..tricky question. Depends on how you actually act. If you just accept your fate and go along with his clingy nature, you would have some freedom (but not much personal space). He won't lock you in the bedroom all day. But, if you want to take a walk or something, he has to come with you. So that he can protect you :).

If you refuse to accept him, then say bye bye to your freedom AND personal space. So my advice is just to let it all happen and you'll be happy.

____

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

-🌹 On a scale 1-100, he's in between 60-70. He is patient, but not THAT patient. It won't take long before snap. And once he does, you have 0 chances on escaping and stuff. So better accept him from the start when he is still patient.

____

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

-🌹 You? Escape? HAH, you won't. But if you did, IF you did, he'll burn the village down and would target every kingdom. His sanity is gone. And when he finds you, he's not the same.

The second he found out you are dead, he didn't waste any more seconds and would kill himself. And before he kills himself, he will hug and kiss you after that, he'll lay you in his chest and off himself while saying he'll love you and he'll see you soon. (that's quite depressing than I thought.)

____

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

-🌹He would feel a bit sad and guilty. But only a little bit. To him, you being with him and him taking you with him are better and safer. He views the world to be very vicious and you are too fragile to be in this kind of world.

He would never let you go. letting you go never were the options. He would rather die than let you go. You are his life, without you, he won't be able to last even a day.

____

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

-🌹 him being the oldest, meaning he didn't have much happy childhoods. Never really had any friends to play with or even someone to be affectionate with. The emperor loves Raizel, but he just doesn't know how to show it. And the least he could do is love how he was taught by his father (Raizel grandfather). The emperor would sign him the best teacher in the kingdom and would pack his schedules with learning, swordships, dancing class, basic etiquette and more. That's what makes Raizel don't have much friend and free time when he's younger. He doesn't know how to love or how to express his emotions.

____

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

-🌹 No, the only different about him are his personality toward his darling. He still killed, torture, and kidnapped his darling like a classic yandere. He may not hurt you physically but he will mentally, by keeping you in his bedroom and would take all of your personal space.

____

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

-🌹 the fastest way for you to escape, if to let it all happen. Let him love you, worship you, touch you, cling to you. And you'll be escaping in no time. The moment you start to give in to his affections, he believes that you finally love him as much as he did to you.

____

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

-🌹 you are the love of his life, why would he hurt you? He will and can hurt you by not giving any personal space but that's it. He'll never hurt you physically. He would rather die than hurt you. You pouting broke his heart into a million pieces, there's no way he can hurt you.

____

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

-🌹 The amount of love he has for you are unexplainable. He would kiss , lick breath on the ground you walk on. Everything your body touch is something pure. In his eyes , you’re a goddess , his goddess that did no wrong in his eyes.

- he would do anything to win you over , you like cats ? He will fed all the cats in town. You like fancy things ? Everyday when you wake up , there would be new jewellery on your vanity table. You name it , anything that you fancy , he would buy it for you. He has no problem spoiling you if it means you would be his happy.

—————-

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

-🌹as you all aware , he’s clingy. Like , very clingy. So he doesn’t have that much of a patience when it comes to waiting. If you still doubt him in any way , but still let him touch you ( affectionately ) he would still be sane. But , if still doubt him and won’t let him touch you , that would set the ticking bomb. He could hold on for about 1 month max. ( it is what it is babe )

—————

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

-🌹 If it means you would be only with him then yes. For fun , nope. One of the things he scared of the most is when you giving him silent treatment or not speaking in general. Maybe because you’re just tired and don’t feel like talking but still , he hates it. He couldn’t bare the feeling not hearing your voice.

——————

🪻 A/N 🪻I'm sorry if this look rushed. I also would like to apologise for not uploading more. I'm not in my best self this past month and I'm still recovering. But don't worry, I'm fine compared to before. Millions of thank Yous to whoever that liked my previous work, it means a lot to me. My grammar is not the best, I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but English is not my first language and I'm still learning. I'll try to upload more in the future, and I would love it if you guys leave some suggestions or requests for my next post. And thank you to those you follow my blog, all love for you guys (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡.

#yandere #yandere x reader #oc #obsessive behavior #yandere oc #clingy yandere #clingy af #female reader #yandere male #yandere prince #male yandere #soft yandere

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vainvenus · 8 months ago

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⌲;꒰ Pretty please!! ꒱

Characters :: John "B" Routledge, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, Rafe Cameron.

Synopsis :: You ask your boyfriend to do a simple task for you just to see if he will.

Includings :: Short drabbles, established relationships, acts of service, nicknames, just lots of fluff, maybe ooc Rafe

An :: Just because I think this trend is adorable

« J. Routledge »

"JB, can you pick out the pomegranate seeds for me? I don't like how sticky it is."

John B glanced back over at you as he stated at the Pomegranate and his lips press together in a thin line.

"Why didn't you get it in the cups? Where it's already all seeds?" He asks and you shrug, still holding the fruit out.

"It's sweeter this way. Please?"

He doesn't want to do it, not because he just doesn't want to; but because he doesn't really know how to peel a pomegranate.

But he nods with a smile as he grabs it from you and moves to grab the cutting board. "Of course, baby."

|★|

« J. Maybank »

"JJ can you pretty please with cherries on top peel this orange for me?"

JJ chuckles a bit as he raises his brows in slight amusement, tilting his head towards you.

"What? Can't peel it on your own?"

He snickers, sort of making fun of you and you just shrug, holding it out to him again and he rolls his eyes playfully as he takes it from you.

He digs his nails into the skin of the fruit as he peels it back. He's a bit messy with it, but he gets the job done.

He takes one of the slices, popping it into his mouth and hands you the rest.

"There. Is there anything else of yours that I can peel off?"

|★|

« P. Heyward »

"Pope! Tie my shoe, please."

"Of course." Pope hums and stops right in his tracks, he doesn't even question it or give you a confused look.

He gets down on his knees, patting one for you to place your shoe on his knee and he brings your hand to his shoulder to use as leverage.

He smiles as he ties your shoe, a simple task that he knows you could have done yourself but he doesn't mind doing it for you.

He taps your other shoe so both of them are tied the same and have less of a chance of untying without you even having to say anything.

He finished both shoes and dusts off his knees as he grabs your hand, entwining it with his and he places a kiss on your temple.

"There. Anything else you need?"

|★|

« R. Cameron »

"Rafee! Can you reapply my lipgloss?"

Rafe looks over at you, not quite hearing you the first time so he walks over to you, leaning his golf club against the golf cart where your seated.

"What was that, princess?" He hums when he finally got close enough and you hold out your [f/color] lipgloss tube.

"I asked if you could reapply my lipgloss for me."

He's amused and a bit astonished at your request because it's so simple for you to do it yourself. He even narrows his gaze at you a little bit and you only smile.

"Are you fucking with me?"

"So is that a no?"

He inhales deeply and sighs, grabbing it from you. "Fine."

Rafe grabs your face softly to tilt your head up as you pucker your lips at him and he applies the lipgloss to your top and bottom lip in a fresh glossy coat.

"There. All better now?"

You nod, smiling and he can't help but smile back as he places a kiss on your lips and you groan that he messed it up.

He only shrugs and leans back in for another.

#obx x reader #obx drabble #john b routledge #john b x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank drabble #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward drabble #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron drabble

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neonovember · 1 year ago

Note

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's.

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him.

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you, as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in.

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-”

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up.

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened.

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?”

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died.

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice.

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry.

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony.

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs”

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen, at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen.

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you.

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it.

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them.

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you.

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air.

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle.

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him.

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them.

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt.

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him.

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you,

“Let them”

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud.

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds.

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again.

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him.

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust”

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him.

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much.

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss.

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does”

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

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manikas-whims · 4 months ago

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LADS men when you start dating someone, who later on mistreats you

got this idea and wanted to get it out of my system ♡

ZAYNE

❄️ He isn't thrilled by the revelation at all but he won't say it outright because its not his place to tell you who to date or not.

❄️ However, his dislike does show with the way his brows knit together, the flare of his nostrils with every sharp intake of breath or how his lips turn down just slightest every time you bring up this person’s name.

❄️ Every single praise for this person will arouse a sense of self-doubt in him. After all, it's better you date someone like them. Their evol will never put you in danger like Zayne's can. And they would never skip meetings due to their schedule. (Ofc if you could hear his thoughts, you'd immediately shun them from Zayne's mind.)

❄️ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then best believe he'll freeze hell itself if he has to in order to track this person down.

“How dare you do this to Y/N!?” Zayne’s voice is harsh, cold radiating off his arms in dangerous yet controlled wisps.

And it takes you hugging him from behind, your head resting on his back, tears from your eyes soaking into the fabric of his coat, to stop him.

“Zayne, stop. You don't need to hurt yourself.” You mumble into the fabric of his coat, your arms slipping down to entwine your fingers with his chilling ones. You can already see the hint of a fresh scar developing on the back of his hand, and you won't be able to live with yourself if you see him getting hurt because of you dating a horrible person.

The prickly sensation begins dissipating from his hands and despite the scars, the softness returns into his skin. He turns around, drawing you into a hug with one arm. You can still see his chest rising and falling due to how much he'd been exerting himself.

“Fine.” He lets out a deep breath and finally flashes you the rare warm smile he only keeps for you. “Let’s go.”

And the two of you leave together.

XAVIER

⭐ Not that you're supposed to stay in this “will they? won't they?” situationship with your apartment neighbor forever but Xavier is just so jealous. His eyes darken, and his mood becomes sullen at the mere mention of this person.

⭐ Every time you try praising them, Xavier is going to interrupt and nitpick on how "they're always late on dates", "don't even check up on you at work", "give off a shady vibe",...the more he shit-talks about this person, the more ridiculous his words get.

⭐ He definitely gets a little touchy. After all, seeing you with someone else makes him feel as if he isn't as close to you. He makes sure this person sees his hand casually around your waist. And petty as it may seem, he's also deliberately gonna leave his hoodie and his other stuff at your place to remind you of himself.

⭐ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then no amount of prayers will spare this person to see the light of another day.

Xavier happens to see this person trying to approach you once more outside the apartment complex with words that barely sound like an apology. Swift as ever, he steps in front of you.

“You got some nerve showing up here after what you did to Y/N.” He says to them, an edge in his usually gentle voice.

He is as silent and deadly as you've seen him in the throes of battle, cutting down the Wanderers without a hint of mercy in his strikes. And you gulp down the tension in the air.

You know what he's capable of. You can't let him unleash the power of his evol simply because of your ex-partner maltreating you.

You bring your hand out and place it upon his heart, just like you'd done on your first encounter with him. Only this time it's not to resonate your evol with his but to push him back.

You force a smile on your face despite the messy state of your emotions. “Xav, let's grab a bite. I'm craving hotpot.”

His eyes are unflinching, and for a moment you wonder if even the bait of some tasty meat will fail to lure him. But then, a moment later he scoffs at the person and looks down at you, his gaze softening as he does so. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

He wraps his fingers around your hand– the same one that's still resting upon his chest– and pulls you along.

RAFAYEL

🌊 He's jealous but even more than that, he's disappointed in your choice. You can do way better than this. Actually, in his opinion, you are way out of this person's league, and deserve nothing but perfection when it comes to a partner.

🌊 He's quite vocal about his dislike, openly saying how suspicious he finds this person and how if you wanna indulge in wasting your precious time, you'd rather waste it on him.

🌊 He complains how you've changed. How you don't hang-out with him as much and pay less visits to his studio. Seeing you with someone else makes the ache in his heart more agonizing than ever. Rafayel wonders what you see in them? Do they cherish you more than him?

🌊 If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then he won't hesitate from raising the tides of the Whitesand Bay in order to drown them.

You frantically chase after Rafayel as he corners this person. You've never seen this magnitude of fury in his beautiful eyes.

Rafayel grabs them by the front of their shirt, his voice scalding as he smirks in annoyance, “So you've finally shown your true colors to Y/N, huh?”

You can feel the temperature rising just a little, the atmosphere around feeling a lot warmer than before. Your nose catches the whiff of something burning and you realize there's smoke emanating from that person's collar.

It's scary.

Seeing someone who holds even a paintbrush so tenderly act like this. And no, you're not afraid of him for you know Rafayel will never hurt you. You're afraid for this person. You're afraid of what Rafayel is capable of becoming if you let him go on like this.

Cautiously, you wrap your hand around his wrist and free this person from his hold. The fabric of their shirt appears to be slightly charred but there's no harm done otherwise.

“Come on, Rafayel, ” You tug his wrist to pull him to you. “We shouldn't bother with the likes of them.”

He fixes his gaze on the person one last time. “Count yourself lucky Y/N is here! Or else..”

He pries his hand out of your grasp and pats your head. His smile returns, as does the warmth in his eyes and he puts an arm around your waist. “So, where are we going?”

SYLUS VERSION [HERE]

» MASTERLIST «

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deakyjoe · 5 months ago

Text

Misfire

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (afab)

Category: smut, fluff

Summary: After a long day, Copia gets a little too excited at finally seeing you.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, premature ejaculation, kissing, groping, cum eating, shower sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, f receiving oral, cream pie, established relationship, stressed Copia, needy Copia, hurt/comfort, praise kink, fluff

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Every horny thought I had previously about Copia that had been pushed to the back of my mind with the insistence of “I don’t need to write that” came back in full swing after RHRN and manifested into this. Title comes from the song of the same name by Queen.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The day had been long and stressful. Like most days were. And there was nothing Copia wanted more than to be back in his room, in bed, with you underneath him or his face buried between your legs. It was the only suitable way to unwind after a difficult day in his opinion. Fucking you.

As soon as his last meeting was done, and he'd managed to convince Sister Imperator that the latest pile of paperwork she'd dumped on his desk could wait for tomorrow, he was out the door and practically running to go and find you. Thankfully, you were exactly where you always were at the end of the day. You were waiting for him back in his rooms, ready to do whatever he needed to feel better.

The door swung open with an unceremonious thwack against the wall, door handle banging into the paint and contributing to the dent that already existed there. It slammed back into its frame behind Copia, all cares about possibly disturbing his neighbours gone. He just needed you.

At the clattering sounds of him appearing, you looked up from the book you were reading and immediately stood to greet him. "Hello, my love. How was your day?"

Copia dismissed your question with a wave of his hand, instead marching towards you with purpose. "No time. Need you."

You didn't have much time to react but the page of the book you were on was forgotten as the item fell to the seat of the chair you were previously situated on, and you prepared yourself to be met with his hands that were already outstretched towards you.

His pace was fast. So fast in fact that when he collided against you, mouth slanting over yours with the slightest clash of teeth, you stumbled back a couple of paces. Luckily, his arms were tightly wound around you in time to steady you and prevent you from falling.

The kiss was messy and desperate, the low whine he let out at the relief of finally touching you telling you everything you needed to know about the state of his day. It obviously hadn't been a good one. But you knew how to solve that.

For Copia, no amount of contact was enough. He was glad that he'd forgone his Cardinal vestments for the day, one less layer between the two of you. One of his hands pushed into the small of your back to draw your body as close as possible to his. The other was on the back of your head to keep your lips firmly pressed against his. On top of that he was leaning forward, almost bending you backwards and making your spine arch in a slightly uncomfortable position, to make sure you didn't leave his embrace for even a second.

His tongue licked hotly and urgently into your mouth and it wasn't long before you could feel him growing hard between you. It didn't take much on days like this. So without breaking away from him, because you knew that would make his day even worse, you slowly started to guide him back towards his bed.

Copia hadn't realised that the two of you were moving, too distracted by the feeling of you, until the backs of his legs hit the wooden frame. He hummed against your mouth in appreciation, you always knew what he needed. Not like it was difficult to tell when he was being like this.

He whimpered when you had to break apart in order to get on the bed, hands not leaving you for a second as you crawled on and collapsed against the pillows and he climbed on top of you. Not a second was wasted as he went back to kissing you, pushing your thighs apart so he could slot himself between them and rest almost the entirety of his body weight on you.

One of his hands roamed you, sliding up underneath the hem of your shirt to gain access to your skin. Even if he couldn't feel it because of his gloves, knowing that the leather was on your bare flesh was enough for him. Your own hands were tangled in his hair, letting the strands run a little looser after being pristine for the day, and pulling him as impossibly closer as you could. You knew he liked it when you showed how you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

It didn't take long before his lustful impulses took over and the friction of your bodies against each other had him pushing his pelvis into yours with a snap of his hips.

"Fuck." He hissed against your mouth, hips rutting forward again. "I'm sorry. I can't- I can't stop, it feels so good."

You slid your hands down to cup his face in your palms, thumbs swiping across his cheeks to calm him down. "Copia, my love, if it feels good then don't stop."

His mouth fell open, a protest dying on his lips when he saw how genuine you were being about the idea, brows scrunching together in pleasure as he let himself rut against you again. After that, all control was lost.

His mouth crashed back over yours, desperate to feel as much of you as possible. He chased the feeling that was steadily building, convinced that he could do this for just a little while longer before he took your clothes off and actually fucked you.

But you knew better.

You could tell he was getting close by the whines he was letting out into your mouth getting higher in both pitch and frequency. His hips were also rutting against you at a much faster rate, almost frantic. Then suddenly he stilled, limbs going rigid and jaw falling open around a long groan of elated satisfaction.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the side of your neck and heavy pants tickling your skin. You let your hands slide around to his back, tracing patterns with your finger tips along his clothes.

Copia sighed suddenly, mumbling against your ear. "I'm so sorry. I, eh, I don't know what happened."

"It's okay." You replied, a content smile gracing your lips. He didn't need to apologise, there was nothing you loved more than his happiness. And if that was caused by him coming in his pants just through some dry humping? Then you were all too pleased for him. You let him rest for a couple more minutes, allowing his breathing rate to slow down, before suggesting something that always made him feel better. "Let's go get you cleaned up, hm? Shower?"

The smile in his voice was evident. "Okey dokey."

He slowly pushed himself up, hands running down the lengths of your legs to keep in contact with you as you yourself also sat up. You took his hands in yours as you started to lead him towards his en suite bathroom, letting him wind his arms around your waist and push his face into the side of your neck to keep you close.

When you got to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror, you found that the black paint he applied to his top lip every day was now smeared around your mouth. This was a common occurrence.

You pointed it out to him anyway. "Look, we're matching."

And Copia smiled like he always did. "It suits you."

You rolled your eyes at the same line he always gave you, biting down on your bottom lip to smother the grin it always brought to your face. After switching the shower on, you gave it a minute to warm up as you started to help Copia remove his clothes. He let you do it, a fond smile on his face as he noticed your eyebrows pinch in concentration.

His thighs were sticky from your previous activities and your eyes lit up at the sight. Copia's own eyes practically popped out of his head as he watched you swipe a finger through the mess and then suck it off into your mouth with a pleased hum.

That was all it took for him to start ripping your clothes off and then push you into the shower whilst you giggled at his new found energy.

"Slow down, my love. We have time and you could probably use a minute." You glanced down to where he was hanging soft and pulled him under the hot stream of water with you to start cleaning him off.

Copia's head rested on your shoulder, his hair dripping into his eyes and making his black eye makeup start running, as you lathered him up with soap and got to work gently washing the day's stress away. Once he was spotless you pressed a kiss against his neck to tell him you were done and he stood up straight to look at you.

An adoring smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he cupped your face in a bare palm and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. He kissed you quickly, softly, and then sank down onto his knees. He gazed up at you, mismatched eyes wide and almost vulnerable, black paint cascading from his eyes. You used your thumbs to wipe the mess away before giving him the go ahead with a small nod.

Copia dived in between your thighs, enthusiastically licking at every inch he could reach. His eyes closed in pleasure, moans rumbling through his chest and out of his mouth against you. The fingers of one of your hands threaded through his hair, encouraging him, the other steadying you against the wall to hold yourself up. He was always so keen to please, so desperate to know he was doing well, so that's exactly what you gave him.

"Mhm, just like that." You sighed, meeting his opened eyes. "Good boy."

He whined against you, somehow pushing his face further into you and bumping his nose against your clit. One of his large hands splayed across the plains of your thigh, tips of his fingers pressing into the soft flesh and pushing your leg up to hook your knee over his shoulder. That only gave him better access and a new angle. As much as you wanted to stay composed for him, to keep praising him, the new sensation had a choked cry leaving your mouth and your head dropping backwards in pleasure.

Copia licked and sucked with determination, working towards the goal of getting you to orgasm against his face. He kept a close watch on every reaction you gave, making sure to keep his eyes open now so he didn’t miss a single response you gave to anything he did. Water rained down onto his head, beating against his face and making it harder to see, but he didn’t care. He only cared about making you feel good. Because you always made him feel good. He loved to return the favour.

Your toes curled, thighs clenching around him and drawing him closer against you. Copia knew then that the end goal was arriving soon and this only motivated him further, his rapid motions only picking up further like a man starved. The fingers carded in his hair tightened, tugging on the roots harshly, and Copia groaned loudly, sending vibrations rippling through you. That tipped you over the edge.

A smile spread across his face as you rocked your hips against it, chasing the high that he’d given you. Once it had eased out to a warm glow Copia stood again, wincing as his knees cracked.

“You need to be more careful, my love. Your joints can’t handle positions like those anymore.” You hummed, cupping his face in your hands.

“For you I will bear the pain and get on my knees any day.” He retorted as he leaned in to kiss you.

The proximity alerted you to the fact that he was hard again and you pulled away from him with a startled squeak and looked down to where he was pressing against your stomach.

“Bad days make you like a horny teenager.” You chuckled, not complaining in the slightest.

“No, you make me like a horny teenager.” He countered and kissed you again, tongue lapping into your mouth so you could taste yourself on him.

Steam from the hot shower had clouded the room but neither of you cared as Copia pushed you against the wall and slid into you. You both gasped lowly into each other’s mouths in gratification at the feeling, him lifting one of your legs to give him better access.

He fucked you slowly and lovingly, a strong contrast to the way he’d been rutting against you earlier. But that had been for relief. This was for comfort. He took his time with it, letting the sensation build slowly as to not rush it this time. And you were all too happy to let him have you anyway he wanted you.

Water cascaded between you, causing his body to slip against yours with ease and making it difficult to breathe between kisses. But neither of you cared, not being able to bear being too far away from each other for even a fraction of a second.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your second orgasm, despite the slow pace. And the feeling of you clenching around him meant Copia wasn’t far behind. He stilled as he came inside you, pumping a few more times to make sure he filled you.

After a few more kisses, he slid out of you with a hiss and it was his turn to wash you. He babbled about how much he loved you, a mix of English and Italian and what you thought to be some Latin leaving his mouth in hushed tones. You could only smile back, knowing he knew how much you loved him too.

Once the shower was done, and the steam started to clear, you dried each other off and giggled about meaningless things. You pointed out how much you adored the greys in his hair as you ruffled his head with a towel. He pointed out the bite mark he’d left on your thigh that you hadn’t even noticed he’d given you in the shower as he wiped water droplets off of your skin.

When you returned to the bedroom and started searching for some pyjamas for you to wear, one of his fingers tracing up and down the line of your spine, he informed you that he wanted to sleep naked. To feel you as close to him as possible. You agreed with a simple nod of your head. And when you crawled into bed, you told Copia how much he meant to you. He only blushed and returned the sentiment.

With the lights off, mumbles of affectionate praises, promises of eternal love, and soft kisses were exchanged until the two of you fell into a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other's arms.

A/N: this started out as something meant to be strictly horny and then turned all sweet at the end?? Anyway, hope you enjoyed my first dive into Copia fanfic!

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pha55ed · 2 months ago

Text

Is It Casual Now? || F2 (good ending)

type :: hurt/comfort tw/cw :: none contains :: ollie, kimi, paul, arthur, summary :: after getting heart broken by the boys, you're shattered. but the space between you two make him realize how dumb he was being - PART 1 HERE

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 03

After watching you run into your house with tears streaming down your face - Ollie instantly felt a pang in his heart. But he wasn't sure what it was. He thought it was just empathy, he always hated seeing you upset, so knowing he caused the pain was harsh on his heart. But, he thought it was for the better.

He didn't want to risk ruining your friendship. You were basically part of his family and entire life. Dating you would mean risking a nasty break up which would permanently change everything. His family loves you, if you broke up they would most likely side with you instead of Ollie. You got along with all of his friends, dating would change the entire group's dynamic. And even worse, if you did ever break up on bad terms: Ollie knew he would be shattered.

But his entire thought process was proven to be stupid. Saying no to your confession made all of those fears come true. You needed space from Ollie, to heal from the embarrassment and hurt you felt. While Ollie was dealing with every fear he tried to prevent by rejecting you.

So he did what he knew he needed to do: chase you down and get you to come back into his life. He learned that he needed you more than anyone else, even his own family. Once he finally put together all the dots, he came to your house a week later and knocked on your door.

But you weren't done healing yet, still puffy-eyed and snotty from crying your heart out. Like a true heart broken girl, you ordered some take-out to eat whilst sobbing. You didn't bother to check the cameras outside, assuming it was just the delivery man.

So imagine your shock when you're met with a driver, but not a delivery driver. Instead it was Ollie, looming over you with his height as he was holding a large box filled with gifts of your favorite things. But you couldn't ever get a peak at the box, since you instantly tried to slam the door shut - not wanting to see Ollie whilst looking like a mess.

But you weren't able to shut the door since his large hand pushed against your force. So now you were stuck there, looking up at him in week old pajamas and messy hair while he looked even more handsome than usual. You peaked at the gift bundle he made you - filled with your favorite snacks, flower legos, face masks, and almost every makeup and skincare product that you've ever talked about wanting.

"Please?" Ollie said, his voice soft. "I know I'm a jerk for rejecting you, and I don't expect you to forgive me or accept my confession but - I just want to give you something..." He said, looking at you with no pity in his eyes but instead a look of yearning.

"I don't need the gift," you say, not wanting to give in so easily. You wanted to say something cool, to reject his confession. But in your current state, it was going to impossible to fake confidence and reject him while looking homeless. "But um... thank you?" You said, unsure of how to reply to him.

"No no, please take the gift" Ollie said, pushing the door further as he handed you the gift bundle. And by pushing the door further open, you wanted to go curl up in a ball and hide - you looked horrendous.

And as Ollie looked at you, you could see his face soften even more. "When's the last time you showered? Or cleaned your face? Or gone outfside???"

All of his questions were way too embarrassing to answer. And as if the universe was doing it's best to give you a 13th reason, the delivery man came up to the door. The delivery man stood directly by Ollie and for some fucking reason he began to read out your order.

"Two cheese burgers with extra cheese, large fries, large sundae, side of chicken nuggets, and a soda?" The delivery man said, before putting the food into Ollie's arms and went off on his marry way. The man probably assumed you were sharing the meal... Ouch.

And as Ollie held the food, looking at you in such poor shape, he gave a small smile. "Can I have some?? And maybe help you tidy up?" And who were you to deny him any longer.

Kimi Antonelli | 04

It's been almost a month since you talked to Kimi. The interaction left you cringing in your head for hours on end, no matter the time or place. Although you loved learning Italian, it was impossible for you to do lately since you couldn't even speak it without feeling your throat close up from the thought of Kimi.

But luckily, you were able to heal with the time. You weren't over him, not quite yet, but you were able to focus on yourself for the time being. So you wanted to treat yourself out, going on a small shopping spree. Getting new clothes, makeup, even cute blind-boxes that you knew was a waste of money.

So when you came home, only to be met with a huge bouquet on your doorsteps, you were shocked. You put all your shopping bags down and picked up the large rose bouquet. And instantly, your eyes widened as you read the small card that was attached to it.

"Please unblock me. I miss you and want to make things right. But I understand if you don't feel comfortable. - lots of love, Kimi"

You completely forgot that you blocked Kimi on instinct! You felt like an idiot. All those nights you spent crying, hoping he would text you back and take it all back weren't able to happen because you blocked him. Without hesitation, you unblocked his number - getting hit with over 500 messages. If someone didn't know what was happening, they would have assumed you had some crazy ex boyfriend.

As you scrolled through the messages, you were met with paragraph after paragraph with apologies, begging to meet up, and more apologies. It made you feel awful to know that you were grieving over Kimi for no reason when he literally was sending the most heartfelt messages ever.

But you were hesitant. How could Kimi be so cruel and laugh in your face at the idea of dating only to spam you and beg for you. It was such a fast 180 that you were hesitant. So you agreed to meet up at your old favorite Italian restaurant in a few days.

As you sat down in front of Kimi, who seemed to arrive an hour early since the drinks and appetizers were already prepared. You felt your heart sting just at the sight at him. It made you feel the urge to cry yet again, even though you worked hard to become more confident without him - he just softened your heart.

And it seemed like he felt the same, he was absolutely star struck at the sight of you. His jaw was left hanging slightly, his eyes were sparkling with either tears or admiration, and his chest didn't move - you literally caught his breathe.

His breathe so stuck in his throat that he couldn't even speak, so you had to break the silence. "Um, hi?" You said awkwardly.

"Hi." He said, finally taking a breathe. "Um,,," He hesitates to dive too fast into the topic. "I got your favorite appetizers,, you should eat it before it's cold."

You simply nod, taking note of his care. He watches as you eat and you feel so awkward. "So uh, what did you want to talk about?"

"Well, I wanted to apologize - not really talk." He started, "I realized that what I did was so so SO stupid. Ever since you've been gone, everything has been so different. I can't eat anywhere we liked, can't go parties without them asking where you are - I can't even see my family without them asking where you are!" His voice got louder slightly at his annoyance at himself.

You just sat there listening, giving him time to say everything he needed. He continued, "And I kept trying to convince myself that I didn't need you and that we weren't serious, but who am I kidding, of course we were dating. I just never asked you to be mine and I feel so stupid for that! And then once you left it made me realize how much I missed you, now much I needed you."

As he spoke, rambling at an extremely fast pace, you realized he's been holding this in for a while. The way that his face and voice were still so angry at himself made it clear that he's not forgiven himself. But you were still wondering if he was trying to get forgiveness or actually date you.

"And then I got kind of depressed... I wasn't going out anymore, not working out, not socializing. And I guess my final breaking point was when my sister," He pauses, thinking back to what happened, "My sister asked where you were, and when you would play with her again, and I just - I just broke then and there" His fast rambling came to a halt as he looked down in shame for being so weak in front of his sister. "And um, as dumb as it sounds, she was the main person to encourage me to get you back."

You were always close with his little sister, playing dolls and dress up with her. She always wished she had a sister, especially since Kimi was only into masculine hobbies. You were that older sister that she's always dreamed of, so it broke her heart to not see you for so long. Now you felt even worse, knowing that she probably just thought you left her for no reason - not even saying good bye to her.

"I'm not trying to use her to guilt you. I'm just being honest. But I realized everything I did wrong. I'm sorry for saying I would never date you, I can't name a single person better than you. I'm sorry for leading you on for ages and never putting a title on us, I was just, scared, I guess. I wasn't confident in myself and just assumed you were too good for him - that my flirting was all one sided." He says, making you realize you didn't ever flirt with him back - it was mainly him.

And that when it clicked in your head, he was slightly right. You never once called him amore back, never reached for his touch in public, never once started anything romantic. He most likely saw this was him pining after you while you were just going with the flow. So now you felt like an even bigger asshole.

"Kimi," You spoke for once, "I'm so sorry that you went through all of that, I felt the same way. I do like you, that's why I asked in the first place."

"I realized that now. And I feel so stupid for what I did." He said, "Please let me make it up to you."

Paul Aron | 17

Going to the paddock has never been more nerve racking. Not because you were preparing for your home race, but because you would see Paul. You've been able to ignore him and leave him alone thanks to your extreme luck. But now you were forced to be with him for interviews, photos, and race discussions.

Once you arrived, your plan was to just say that you were having a tummy ache or head ache. Some type of pain that was bad enough to excuse you from doing your duties but not bad enough for them to tell you couldn't race. But before you could even speak to anyone - he was right there, in front of you.

You knew you should have come an hour or more early just to avoid him, but you overslept on accident. So now you were stuck standing their awkwardly as you looked up at him. You gave a small head nod, a sign of acknowledgement but also a sign of not wanting to speak to him.

But you knew Paul was stubborn, always the type to fight until he got what he wanted. So he just stood there and shook his head. "Nope," He said, "You can't ignore me forever. It's been 4 WEEKS (Y/N)."

You were avoiding his gaze, not wanting to look at him after how embarrassing it was to get rejected. You knew it was immature but you genuinely weren't sure how to respond to him, giving him a weak shrug as you kept your head turned away from him.

"(Y/N), please." He said, his hand reached forward and he held your chin gently, pulling your face to look at him. And that's when you saw how sincere he looked, as if he was in pain. His voice didn't convey his emotions, but his eyes surely did.

"What?" You say, not wanting to assume too quickly that he actually missed you as a person, "You want to fuck or something?" Trying to seem tough, as if his words from the weeks before didn't shatter you.

"No." He instantly said, his lack of hesitation made you surprised slightly. "I want to talk, tell you everything."

"About what?" You say, still trying your best to hide the fact that your heart was racing. You desperately wanted it to be good news, but that last time you hoped for good news it ended with you both splitting paths.

"You." He stared at you, "You, for fuck sakes, you. It's all I've thought about since, forever. I'm so so sorry, I'm sorry for being such an idiot when it comes to you. I know that we promised to not catch feelings and just be friends with benefits, but if I'm being honest I fell for you a LONG time ago."

His confession was shocking to you. If he fell for you first then why would he reject you? Why didn't he confess to you first? It was nice to hear him say he liked you back, but you were still lost.

"But I didn't think it was possible because - and I know it's so cheesy and embarrassing but - I know I'm not the best guy out there. So I thought that maybe just staying friends with benefits until I became someone I'm proud of would be smart. So I could be the perfect guy that you deserved and so when you confessed I just didn't feel ready and wanted to seem cool but I ended up sounding like a dick head-"

You cut him off by giving him a tight hug. Although you wanted to kiss him to shut up, his fast rambling made it impossible to get a good spot to kiss him. Your hug around him was tight, as tight as you could possibly give him. Telling him that you didn't care, that you wanted him as he was right now. And that even if he wasn't proud of himself yet, you were.

And he understood perfectly, giving you a tight squeeze back. He couldn't help but smile and kiss the top of your head. His large hands then slipped out of the hug and held both sides of your waist.

"I promise, once we're both not busy, I'll take you out on a nice date - one that's honest." He said, looking at you with a new light in his eyes.

Arthur Leclerc | 65

I'm gonna be so fr I don't know how to redeem Arthur... I've been stuck for weeks...... So if you have ideas, send it! But for now uh, you guys are still broken up LOLLL

#f1 #f2 #ollie bearman x reader #kimi antonelli x reader #paul aron x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula 2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 2 x reader #ollie bearman #kimi antonelli #paul aron #arthur leclerc

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capslocked · 1 year ago

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 8

[prompt: phone sex]

male reader x shin ryujin

16k words

The phone rings one too many times, and Ryujin is in the middle of scrunching up the paper slip that Chaeryeong handed her earlier that afternoon when she hears your voice.

The sounds of her scrambling for the receiver and her head smacking against the headboard come through in pretty good quality.

That never gets old.

"Stimulating conversations," you offer smoothly, like it isn't a euphemism and instead some high-brow intellectual pursuit. "How can I help you?"

Ryujin is speechless for an unbearable five, ten seconds until she lets out the kind of low chuckle that probably sounds better than it looks. "Hi," she says, "hello, I, uh- I don't know how all of this works."

"Why don't we start with who you're looking to speak with tonight?" you ask.

Ryujin sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, looking at the messy tangle of clothes on her bedroom floor with mild resentment. She’ll take her chances, figuring a direct approach is the best route when she doesn't really know where any of the lines get drawn or who is allowed to say what and who isn't.

"Um. Okay. Who you got?"

"We have a large variety of operators to suit any taste," you explain kindly. She appreciates that. "Do you have someone specific in mind? A gender perhaps, to start?"

"Well," Ryujin starts, running her tongue along the edges of her teeth. Lia has this thing she constantly says, that there's always a thousand and one reasons not to do something, and Ryujin is the first person to make fun of her for it - but here she is, finally putting that adage to use.

"I was actually calling to, um," she exhales loudly. "A guy? I mean look - girls. Girls are great, but if you - mmm." She clears her throat. Because she knows how she wants to do this, and it's most definitely: "A man."

You wait for a second before replying, and Ryujin allows the stillness to expand over and fill out every corner of her bedroom before a bright, "Alrighty, well," comes filtering out her phone, tinny but as enticing as ever. "That would be me."

"Oh."

"Yeah," you reply, easy and unhurried. You sound exactly like the kind of person whose company people pay handsomely to be around; the professionalism is undeniable, but there's something to be said for your tone. The softness to the vowels, the almost imperceptible upward lilt to the words - Ryujin gets that, maybe.

You're pretty confident in the answer, but you ask anyway, "have you ever done anything like this?"

Ryujin opens her mouth and hesitates for a brief moment.

"Well," she muses. She's tried porn, she's tried her own fantasies, she's tried cranking up the hot water and touching herself with the head of the shower aimed somewhere she's told by other girls: it's there, free of charge. "I haven't."

"But you have a boyfriend," you state. "You have a man, who you enjoy things with?"

Ryujin laughs nervously. "It's...it's been a little while. Not recently. Sorry. I know you don't-"

"No, no, not at all, you're doing fine, it's just that you sound very attractive over the phone. Excuse the assumption."

Ryujin laughs and rakes her fingers through her fringe. She knows it's a line, but she laughs anyway. She could - if she was looking for the deranged fulfillment of it - pore through a billion comments on instagram, on twitter that call her a lot of things: gorgeous, beautiful, hot. The last comment she read before almost deleting her app entirely was someone who decided to textually imitate a dog barking to a picture Yeji had taken of her in a coffee shop. There's a novelty, she thinks, in being charmed by someone who has no idea who she is.

"You have good ears then," she says, smirking into the receiver. "So do you normally do, what, ask questions? I have no idea."

"Yeah, it helps me build a profile," you reply, "but if you had something else in mind-"

"No, please, shoot." She grabs the pillow from behind her back and flops against the mattress, staring up into the ceiling fan.

"Do you feel comfortable sharing your age with me?"

"Twenty," she answers without missing a beat, even though that isn't right. It's weirdly important to her, keeping it private, and she isn't sure why - but then you say something pleasant and complimentary about college and new experiences that she's unable to register, and you ask her for her name so quick she just blurts it out:

"Ryujin."

"Pretty."

"Fuck," Ryujin grins, immediately chewing on her knuckle to bite back a gasp. "Sorry. The name is cute or, whatever. Whatever. Sorry for the curse. God, I don't really have a filter - what about you? Do you have a name, Mr. Operator?"

"I do."

Ryujin lifts a leg up and puts it down again. She doesn't know if she should already have taken off her pajamas or if that's weird. Or if the fact that it doesn't bother her means this is more or less wholesome. She turns over onto her stomach, humming into the phone and now she doesn't know why she's thinking about your face. You could be- well, fuck, you could be anyone, but there's this gnawing compulsion to put something together.

You tell her your name and she scoffs for a second, before quieting down and returning you a, "pretty."

"Ryujin, tell me." There's probably a slightly too long pause from your end of the line before you get on with asking her, "when was your last orgasm?"

She drops the phone right in her face. It bounces off the bridge of her nose before landing in bedsheets beside her and her eyes are welling with tears while she scrambles blindly across her bed, cursing into the receiver and squirming. She pulls the phone to her ear and catches the last couple seconds of you reassuring her that it's okay, that it's completely fine if she's hung up or gone.

"Actually, I have," and she curls her fingers into a fist, "never came in my whole life."

You clear your throat to keep a less than professional sound from coming out. A quiet space she feels necessary to fill: “Not even once.”

"Really?"

"I know. And I've only recently realized that's, uh - er- a pretty un-normal thing." Ryujin makes a waving motion with her hand even though you can't see it, trailing off into silence and blushing furiously. "Sorry," she apologizes. She doesn't know what she’s apologizing for, but she does it again. "Sorry about that."

"I should be the one feeling sorry for you," you rib.

"Fucking tell me about it."

"Hey, this reminds me, would you be averse to the idea of touching yourself?"

The question stutters Ryujin in her tracks, and she doesn't even say no but a drawn-out "nngh" leaks out before she can stumble into something more intelligible. "Isn't that, like, what you're supposed to do on these calls?"

"Every call is different, Ryujin."

She chews on her lower lip, rolling it under her front teeth. You say her name like you know her, and it's throwing her for a loop. The comfort you have with the whole situation - asking her a million questions and not demanding answers, taking cues and reassurances in stride and turning everything into some sort of ploy for getting her naked. Fuck, she'll take a bit of a plunge:

"Should I be touching myself?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Okay, well that's kind of a frustrating answer."

"So you're saying you like being told what to do," you tell her, and you hear the sharp inhale in reply.

"If I knew what I liked, you think I'd be calling a sex hotline and hoping some stranger might take pity on me?"

You laugh out loud, and her response is the quickest, the cutest little, "seriously!" before she chuckles too.

"Ryujin?" you ask.

"Yeah?"

"Are you straight?"

She nearly chokes - because it's like you're able to just read her mind - and if you can do that then there's nothing you can't do, maybe. And here, excitement feels a lot like apprehension. She twists and curls in on herself, thighs rubbing together, the flat of her hand traveling across her stomach.

"I'm-"

"Because no one should have to pretend that they're interested in guys," you interrupt her and, god, for as much time as she's spent dwelling on that, she wishes it were that simple.

It would be a hell of a lot easier if she knew why she wanted to get her face between Yeji's thighs and drag her tongue all over her clit until that prettier-than-perfect face of hers cinches up in a pleasure that comes with just the right amount of agony - or if she knew why she didn't feel anything like remorse or guilt or envy when her boyfriend came around instead of wanting, you know, to get on her knees with her mouth around his cock too -

Fuck, it's all very complicated.

"Straight," she answers. She likes cock, as much as anyone realistically can, and she knows the body on a man can get her dripping and easy in all the right ways. So, she just swallows. Says, "straight enough."

"If you were to touch yourself, right now, and someone - say, a man - were telling you exactly what to do: what would spring to mind, if anything."

"Mmm. Is this you asking me to touch myself?"

"Again. That's up to you."

Your voice is light. Very pleasant. Very male, Ryujin realizes. She gulps.

"Can you, I mean," she says, running a hand down the length of her thigh, pressing down at the hollow.

"Ryujin,” you say, letting her mull over how it sounds in your mouth. “Take a breath for me, please."

Her exhale leaves her with a heavy push and she tries not to laugh. Nervous tic. She's getting goosebumps, but she feels warmer than before.

"We could say this isn't the first time, you and me, in some very broad and abstract sense. How does that make you feel?"

"Strange." She touches her outer thighs again and arches her back. "Kind of horny," she admits. And it is odd - your words, the things you say - and maybe it's her nerves because the experience is new, and so are you, and so are her feelings, all wrapped in one.

"Do you want to do something about that?"

There's silence between you for what seems like a very long time, your breathing quiet but apparent - a signal you haven't abandoned her in some state of vulnerability. Ryujin inhales deeply. She's shaking in her fingertips. The tension has her taut and waiting, and that's funny, really, because it's what she's been doing for years. The rubbing. The touching.

Her hips rock forward gently and she answers the unasked question with a sweetly husked, "uh-huh."

"What are you wearing?"

"Ah, really?" Ryujin laughs. Her fingers pause at her waistline. "That old, bad porn trope."

"I like hearing about people's clothes, is all," you excuse yourself lightly. "Helps me get a sense of things."

"Yeah, alright. Sweats. Baggy ones." Her lips fall apart. "Shirt."

"Is that all? Nothing sexy."

"What's sexy?"

"Sexy is…"

She listens to you mull it over, listening for a ruffling or two. "For a girl with a nice body - some body - some curves," you continue, and Ryujin has to drop another finger to the hot line of her thigh, her lower belly. "You need lace. Silk. You've gotta leave the best bits a little hidden, at least for a while longer."

"Wow. You sound a hell of a lot like you'd enjoy taking someone's pants off," she half-teases. "Do you make all your calls like this? One sordid fantasy at a time, huh?"

"Something like that," you reply. And then, as if reading her mind, "are you doing anything, right now?"

"I'm touching myself," she exhales. "Are you?"

"Ryujin, not yet. Please be patient."

She makes a face even though you can't see it or taunt her. That's an unfair request - you have an unfair request.

"Just, wait," you tell her. She's drawing lazy, winding circles across her thigh. "Let me show you something, will you do that for me?"

"But, what."

"Tell me everything. All the things you're thinking. Things you want to do."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

She blinks away her initial disbelief and reaches around for her lamp to switch it off. Until it's just the hallway light peeking in through the crack between her door and the door jamb and you, a stranger who won't be seeing her face or hearing her say anything stupid. She shakes out a few more breaths, shuffles against the sheets, and glides her fingertips past her belly button.

Her hand rises up her stomach in one decisive movement, until her fingers curl beneath the bottoms of her bra, trapped in its underwire. "I'm thinking - unh - about, ah. My friend?"

You're quiet and let the silence linger, until she seems like she might not find her way; so you repeat, "Go ahead."

"And a guy she used to like, fuck, she'd show up here, drunk on, ah. A weeknight. Somewhere, fuck, around midnight. Walk past me into the kitchen where we had the - the light. God." Her hips stutter and she grits out the rest through her teeth. "In the refrigerator. Ah, yeah, a midnight snack. Always looked way too fucking good for, um, oh, for a casual booty-call."

"Does your friend have a name?"

"Yuna," she practically pants, and immediately realizes she shouldn't have said that either.

"Did you always know what was going on? Between Yuna and her-"

"Boy-toy, yes - it was so obvious, I always knew, yeah," she said, clumsily grabbing the sheets with one hand as she drifts further between the peaks. "Just - fuck - he'd be picking at, ah, something with chopsticks."

"In your kitchen?"

"My, uh, table. And I'd be working up the nerve to ask."

You sigh over the phone, "ask him what?"

"What it was, like, I knew she was only- shit." She keens high in her throat. "What it was like, fucking taking that cock of his, and bending Yuna's tight little, ah, ass over and, mm, railing her on the side of her fucking bed - and just pumping her full of cum just like that until- Jesus, she would walk around after and sometimes-"

You groan softly. This encouraging little sound.

"-fuck - sorry, I mean. Yeah, he, sometimes he'd make her walk around with his, ah, stuff inside. Down her fucking pants and, it's like, fucking disgusting, I swear-"

"And?" You breathe a heavy edged noise over the line.

Actually okay, so maybe this was more than she bargained for, maybe she bit off more than she can chew - maybe, she feels like her insides are collapsing; all the fire pooling around in her stomach and gathering into a melting sort of weightlessness.

"And it makes me feel fucking-"

"Fucking what."

"Why am I talking about this, why-"

"Talking to me? Fucking wet, Ryujin, answer the question."

She pants down at her phone and then turns her face into her forearm, rubbing and making sounds. She thinks about, oh, fucking Yuna and how she showed up to hang out once, with cum leaking down the crease of her inner thigh, smearing against her skin and down between her legs.

"Wet." She swallows. "How do I-"

"Say that you wish it was you," you tell her. "That you wanted that, to be fucked. To feel a cock inside."

Her head falls back. "That," she manages, "fucking, that."

You drawl so that the question might roll off, easy: "Is that the kind of girl you are? Told not to curse, not supposed to let anyone else play with you - you just need it, don't you? Do you need someone's cum? Just tell me."

"I think so, ah," and she stops moving her hand. "I think I'm gonna go now. This is fucking embarrassing, like. Okay, sorry."

"Don't hang up," you tell her, and the soft edge to it is one she really wants to indulge. "Don't," you repeat, a little louder.

You start talking, about the same sorts of things she's imagined herself: the sex and the sounds and what he can do to her. You build a slow and aching heat between her thighs that has her dripping through her underwear and grinding against her fingers. Telling her how she's the one that needs to be filled, needs a man who can wrap her legs around his waist, get to the deepest parts of her, the parts untouched and willing.

Ryujin gets that - she wonders, half out of it and stroking faster than she usually would be, how much of it has anything to do with who the voice is on the other end of the receiver, and how it could be what a desperate, pathetic, tired part of her has always wanted.

"Are you?" she asks, panting over the phone.

"Am I what?" you whisper back to her.

"Are you," and you hear how she inhales sharply through her nose, a desperate gasp leaving her lips on the exhale, "going to, um. Are you touching yourself right now?"

Your reply is immediate, and her eyes flutter and close the second you tell her exactly what she wants to hear:

"God, yes."

She drags her hand up the center of her body, runs her fingertips over her jaw and presses the heel of her wrist to her neck to feel her pulse slamming hard.

"I'm fucking throbbing, Ryujin; you sound gorgeous like this, like nothing I've ever heard, I'm stroking my cock just picturing you, please-"

"Tell me." She's mouthing into the center of her palm, saying the words, tasting salt and musk. "Fuck, ah," she babbles, "tell me what you would do with me."

"I'd get you on your knees," you tell her without hesitating for a beat.

"Fuck."

"I'd come up behind you and tell you not to be scared, baby. I wouldn't hurt you, I'd just touch you real gentle. Push my fingers past your tongue, slide a little down your throat."

"Uh huh," she moans, her head falling back and rolling, rocking against the mattress.

"Want you sucking on my fingers. Need your hands around my cock, or better, my balls, play with them. You're going to take those fingers - every finger I got, all five, yeah?- all ten of them," you joke, "and open up your tight cunt - like you are now, like such a good fucking girl-"

The girl fucking yelps. Just this honest sound of depravity; it's what she's paying you for. It's a silly line of bullshit, but it makes her bite hard and ache a little around her own knuckles and moan in her palm and dig her nails hard into her flesh. Her thumb fumbles across the top edge of her underwear and you pant again into her ear as if on cue, giving her a small bit of guidance that has her jolting in pleasure. She didn't know that was there, fuck, fuck-

"Like that, Ryujin. Breathe," and she does.

"Please," she whines, trying to find somewhere for her arm to settle, resting finally in her hair - setting the phone to speaker in a foolish moment of lapsed-judgment, just before it nearly clatters off the side of her bed.

Keep going - she's telling you over and over - keep going, and you’re picturing her there: eyes closed, legs spread wide, bent knees quivering and toes curling into the sheets. It doesn’t sound fake - you've heard a million of them, you've learned them in their different tones and accents and you can spot a faker a mile away. And the girl on the phone right now isn't pretending or thinking about whatever's happening somewhere else.

(You don't join in for everyone. You can't. It's an asinine consideration that you'd be rubbing your fist up and down your cock while it's sore and wanting - aching from the neglect or lack of rhythm. You have to remind yourself it's just a job, that the logistics just can't support such selflessness.

But then there's the very fucking premise.

That the girl on the other end of the line is inches from the goalposts, fingering her cunt and sighing into the throes of her first orgasm - first ever, because you did this, you brought her this far - you're the fucking culprit, and no matter how many girls, or boys-pretending-to-be-girls, how many people have gotten off with the help of your voice, your instruction, this one sets a different fucking precedent.

You're not lying when you say, "I'm rock fucking hard, Ryujin," or "there's precum all over my knuckles, baby."

Because there is, and the poor thing chokes out another desperate sound when you tell her.)

"I'm right there, ah, fuck, keep going-"

"I've got my hand around my shaft, just enough that I can fuck it, can't I? The head is getting slick - baby - and my palm is gliding nice and easy. Are you cumming, Ryujin? You better be, you better be cumming right now."

There's a heaving gasp and she calls out for you, babbling curses and "please" and "fuck" in alternating succession, with enough punctuation for you to have to let your lip slip under the hard bite of your front teeth. "Don't stop," she tells you, voice thready.

"You need this so bad."

"Yes," she gasps. "How would you-"

"How would I fuck you?" you finish her thought.

She waits a moment, sucking in shallow breaths and then replying weakly, "I really like... I like doggy."

"On your knees?"

"Yeah," she stammers, "I like when, like- ah, like, pulling my hair."

"Fuck, I love that," you say into her mewling. "Splayed out with your tits against a pillow and getting your pretty, little pussy pounded? I bet that'd feel so good, huh? Hands so rough on your hips, on your throat, squeezing your neck so you'll turn pink. Just to see you smile, I'd probably fucking let you take whatever you want."

You're met with a broken moan, a long string of syllables ending on a note that has your shoulders clenching and cock jumping in your grip.

Tense over the things you can't see: Ryujin biting down into the side of her hand, the other knocking painfully against the wooden side rail on her mattress, her thighs tightening and screaming and clamping around her wrist as she pulls weaker, wilder whimpers out of her chest each time her fingers drag across her slit and the sensitive curve of her swollen clit. She's dying, she thinks, she's going to fucking die - the in and out of her soaked pussy, through all that sticky, satiny skin, slick fingers diving in, twisting until there's nowhere for them to go.

No other recourse than to fuck in, fuck, fuck, like that, fucking god.

There's heavy silence on the line for god knows how long - well, you have to check the log. But for her, it feels like fucking forever. That was - that was it. It's so fucking mind-wracking how good it was, she can't quite wrap her brain around it. Nowhere near. She thinks she'll have a better idea after two rounds, definitely by four. She'll buy something, use the discount, go shopping - an orgasm just to make sure she's not bullshitting herself.

You clear your throat.

She moves sluggishly, away from the side and against the headboard - the heat still unbearably oppressive, her t-shirt clinging and sticking. "That," she stumbles through the afterglow.

"Do I need to apologize to you?" you ask lightly.

"What? Oh god, no - no way. No way. I just."

"Yes?"

"Like I didn't know it was this-"

"Did you just cum, Ryujin?"

She's laying there with the phone pressed to her brow. A hand palmed over her own racing pulse. The faint smell of her own cunt lingering around her face.

"I don't know," she tells you, and promptly hangs up.

The darkness in Ryujin's bedroom is punctuated only by the faint, hazy light streaming in from the hall, and her bedroom fan making its creaking little circles, as she waits in her post-nut-high for her breathing to normalize. Her mind is buzzing, and out of all this, she has a hell of a bill and a couple conclusions:

She's a coward and a pervert, but definitely, definitely bisexual.

Or, like. She's in some weird gray area between not liking whenever anyone buys her drinks, but also the girls at least let her dance a little close. That's a strange thing, isn't it? For how often her mouth does stupid shit - you think at least someone would figure it out for her.

But you, oh fuck. You-

She's fucking shaken up, for sure.

(It's a home office set-up, actually.

Your desk isn't organized; you're sure the photos on the wall are askew and the paint looks slightly worse for wear if you were to turn the lights on - which you never really do. There's an aging lamp tucked into the back corner, a bottle of scotch next to your handset that's closer to halfway empty than halfway full, and you can't stop imagining it.

Promise, This never happens.

You've got the name stuck to the roof of your mouth even though you know it's fake. Stuck with something so painfully abstract. Imagining this girl that is probably as brash and bawdy as her voice, or more exciting than either - maybe her hair is long enough to brush along her breasts. Or maybe it hangs just over her shoulders. God knows just how that would frame her features.

You can see it, really. You pump a handful of coconut oil into your palm and the details solidify so easily in your head: her pretty mouth, nose, the dimples in her cheeks - eyes glazed and sultry and gazing at you.

Smelling sweet, all the places you need, skin hot, clit swollen-

Just- fuck. Fuck.

Ryujin, huh, imagine that.

Ryujin.

And you jerk off right into the soft embrace of a tissue.)

A little more than a week later:

Ryujin's all wrapped up on the couch, with an arm cushioning her head and watching TV when there's a sudden commotion from the front door. Yuna - her friend, her very nice, very male friend who never shows up after midnight unless there's a promise of sex - comes bumbling into the room.

He has no regard for boundaries.

So,

Yuna starts to say, smug, from where the hallway becomes the living room, "Ryujin - look at us. Stuck on a Friday night. You gotta boyfriend or something?"

She's completely unfazed by this interaction. She's pretty sure he has his own key, so like, he should be used to it by now too.

"Kind of." She shuts off the TV to turn her attention towards the topic at hand. "Why?"

Yuna runs a hand through all her long, silky hair and gestures her cock-du-jour on over to the door of her room. "Waiting for a call, maybe." She waggles her eyebrows. "Are you any good, I mean, you never seem to..."

Annoying brat.

Ryujin smacks the back of her neck and interrupts, "you gonna fuck him? Go ahead and fuck him, Yuna." She checks the lock. The kitchen. Gets up and tries to ignore the heat flaring behind her ears.

"We could pretend," Yuna muses, tugging the waistband of Ryujin's shorts around her fingers before she's out of arm's reach. The elastic flips back into her waist with a dull snap.

"Dumb idea. That's a dumb, dumb idea," she reasons, because she knows Yuna has no self control. None, and it's showing; the second her shoulders sag forward and her eyes dart, craving, Ryujin steps back in. "Don't be stupid."

Yuna's lips are tilted, playful. Ryujin wants to smack that look right off her face. Like she fucking deserves any kind of victory just because she found out she can fuck anyone she wants while lacking the self-awareness to somehow be contented with anyone. She's not going to call her a slut - out of a matter of principle - but god, does she fucking want to.

"Gotta get ready, is what you should do," Ryujin mumbles under her breath.

"Fine." Yuna shrugs and pecks an annoying kiss to Ryujin's temple on her way to the shower, waving a hand over her head with a casual, "If you want something, you've only got a half-hour."

Ryujin pushes her hair out of her face and does what she does best: overanalyze and overthink the situation.

Whatever. Yuna won't give it up regardless, not in any way she'd actually be able to enjoy. Her cheeks go a little redder while she pretends to not be considering it.

God, a threesome in total functional harmony however: her working her mouth on Yeji (Ryujin doesn't know why she's thinking about Yeji, but she is), Yeji working her mouth on her boyfriend, her boyfriend working his mouth on her -

That'd be something, she thinks. Like one of those Escher diagrams, but one where everyone cums at the end.

The thought makes Ryujin wet enough to squeeze her thighs together and stand up a little straighter.

Then she hears the showerhead turn on, and she wonders just why, exactly, Yuna is such a spoiled asshole.

Turns out,

The universe just has this habit of providing Ryujin with what she wants right alongside everything she doesn't.

She’s stretched out in her sweats, sat up at the top of her bed again and touching herself beneath the sheet in a pointless attempt to contain the mess. Fucking horny - it's honestly unbelievable - and her left hand's making lecherous, slick noises until it's absolutely gross. Until Ryujin's gasping and panting and sweating from the nape of her neck and the back of her knees.

All because Yuna's the loudest little-fucking-whore of a roommate anyone has ever heard.

She's moaning like she's getting fucking plowed into the next life. And apparently, the cock she's got in her cunt is fucking huge if those little murmuring whimpers are anything to go on. She keeps begging the guy, coy, for a kiss while she's probably folded up like a lawn chair in there, getting railed, and the fact that the boy keeps obliging is as admirable as it is kind of insulting.

"Goddamn," she thinks out loud, because the walls are paper-fucking-thin. The apartments in the area are built in an earthquake-safe way, which in reality, means they can either withstand a magnitude 6.0 and come out without any severe structural damages - or that it's so cheaply constructed the building will go down like a matchbox house before it stands a chance against a tremor of any significance.

They're easier to replace that way she’s told. And Ryujin's apartment is definitely of the latter; she can hear everything.

The skin on skin, their bodies sliding together in the slippery sheets. Her mouth smacking wet around his tongue as he bucks forward and asks her to do a hundred filthy things, asking her where it feels best - that sort of thing, which gets her wound and agitated and frustrated, and fucking horny as fuck. Ryujin's bent-inward and panting when he really gets to work - the creaks and groans, their mingled pants and the constant thudding and swaying of the headboard smacking into the wall.

She doesn't even need to put her ear to the partition like she's sixteen years old all over again, hoping to catch her old brother going at it while her mom was out. Trying to figure out this whole sex thing - what all the fuss was about.

Just the way Ryujin sighs is nothing short of despondent. Slightly pitiful.

And every tight circle she's running over clit feels so fucking good, until she realizes the room goes real quiet for a bit. The stillness - no slapping, no movement, just wet, panted-breaths and muffled speech. She nearly asks aloud what's wrong - but she hears it: Yuna's hushed but totally undeniable,

"Been so long- don't, don't- hold up," she croons in these high, sing-song little huffs. "That - uhn, ah - that's my - that's my good spot, there, keep - yes, harder!"

Ryujin slams her eyes closed, dropping down onto the mattress and wishing she'd slipped her hands into her sweats sooner. Fuck. And as Yuna's back starts banging against the wall - so rhythmic and fucking thorough - Ryujin can feel the heat curling behind the backs of her knees, radiating along her calf and reaching into the smalls of her feet. Fuck. Fuck, she doesn't even get to watch.

Right there. So good, please, so fucking good, is what Ryujin can’t not hear coming right through the drywall.

She’s three knuckles deep in her pussy, all stretched out, and she's practically drooling - "spread me, baby. Hold the, fuck, spread my lips open. See me- unh. Ah - see me? Please, do it-" - the boy groaning about it as he fucks her, and then, Yuna, needling him with a quiet, breathy, "harder, can't you?"

The answer seems to make Yuna squirm and scream.

And Ryujin's nearly rolling - rocking, fucking humping her own fingers because it's starting to ache a little, a cramping in her wrist and arm and jaw that she's trying really hard to ignore, rubbing and fingering and fucking herself closer, the heels of her feet sinking hard against the sheets, throbbing and aching around the flicks of her knuckles, harder, faster - faster -

"Fucking hell-" she seethes and stops moving all at once - because god, Yuna is un-fucking-believable.

The absolute bitch, she's doing it again: squealing and cursing and calling his name into her orgasm and just basking, it sounds like, right in it. Because she always does this, every single fucking time, she acts like it's the best feeling in the fucking world and she fucking loves everything, and that shit just - Ryujin grits her teeth and grimaces and pulls her slick fingers from her body - that just ruins it.

All that build-up and for what?

Fuck, Yuna really has the nerve to go there too. She's talking about sucking her own damn cunt or some bullshit-

Yeah, it's not fucking fair, Ryujin concedes.

Or maybe she's being punished. She could live with that, but god. The unfairness of it all. She tries, for a half a minute, to let her throbbing stop being a goddamn nuisance. But the noises coming from the other room are making her crankier, more angry, more irate - and definitely hornier than she ever really intended, even though she knows Yuna is thoroughly distracted in there.

Ryujin sits up a little straighter. Squares her shoulders, steadies herself and fishes around in her pockets with her uncoordinated, cum-coated hands until she finds her wallet, a credit card, her cell -

And there's an aching, a sore pulse of neglect between her legs; that's all too much. A quick peek down confirms that, yep, she's practically dripped right out of her shorts and even gotten a dark spot in the front of them. How great is that.

Yuna is over there, all, "thank you - ah - can you please do me a favor and fuck my mouth with your big, big, huge, fucking cock-" and this guy, he sounds so patient, telling her how he wants to do exactly that, but he wants to fill her tiny pussy up first, fuck her here, fuck her there, fuck a baby right into her. Wants to get his cum all over her face, smear her mouth and her throat and her cheeks -

Ryujin inhales through her nose and holds, eyes falling closed in something between misery and anguish.

He's telling her, yeah, of course he'll fill up her throat - give her so much it's leaking out of her fucking nose - and Yuna sounds like she's moaning and garbling an objection to that last part - but it doesn't actually fucking matter.

"Geez," is Ryujin's quiet, little gasped-out response. He just fucking pounds her right back into place; her next orgasm. Fuck-

And there it is: the slew of moans that start back up and just keep on keeping on.

Shin Ryujin is going to lose her fucking mind.

Ryujin only lasts a handful more days before she calls again.

It’s another Wednesday night, if only to increase the odds that you’re working. Yeah, she could go with another guy, but another guy might not do everything you did, talking quietly and calmly - so composed while Ryujin was losing some part of her sanity to the thumb she pressed on her clit.

No, it has to be you.

That's what Ryujin makes herself say when the operator apologizes and explains you're busy.

"Will he be working much longer? Please, I, um-"

"If you give me your number," the operator tells her, "I can add him as a preferred associate. You'll get him next time instead of going to the line."

Ryujin pauses, finger held to her chin. Will he know that? There's all this implication isn't there, that maybe he won't. Maybe you're popular - are you? It's a lot like texting someone for the very first time. And if you did - know, she means - would she be acting like a stalker? It would feel weird, probably, but no worse than some people do it already.

Oh god, this is kind of fucked up.

Maybe a little. Maybe.

Ryujin pauses, finger to her chin. Will he know that? There's all this implication, isn't there, or maybe he won't. Maybe you're popular - are you? It's a lot like texting someone you like-like for the very first time. And if you did - know, she means - would she be acting like a stalker? It would feel weird, probably, but no worse than some of things other people are undoubtedly doing with this service, Ryujin decides, and rattles off the digits so fast the operator asks for clarification.

"If your schedule doesn't open," the line says, "call back and leave a message with when."

Ryujin shrugs and says, "yeah, okay."

You make Ryujin sit through forty-five-fucking minutes of on-hold music - this barely audible synthetic noise that signals a connection is still there, truly a genre for no one - all before she just cuts the fucking line and lays down on the couch.

Okay.

Okay, fine.

Whatever.

(You are… going through the motions.

Some girl on the other line is barely holding it together; you can hear her thighs making slick noises. God. She sounds desperate, she's holding the phone all tight and saying your name. She's fucking babbling; it's not attractive, not while you're tilted back as far as your office chair will go and staring up in the ceiling.

You're bored, mostly.

"Please, please, I'm-"

"Going to cum, I know, princess." She asked you to call her that. "Mouth all open? Can't help it? Just need to lick it nice and fast?"

The answer comes all choppy: "I can't, ah, a-ah-nymore, no, I, can't, need-"

"Do you have any idea? How hard I'm fucking stroking my cock right now? Sitting right in my lap. Jerking it right for you," you say, and then she makes an embarrassingly wet noise, gasping through a choked whine, "so I'm ready to give you what you really fucking need."

"Yes," she chokes. "There - um, please, I just-"

"The biggest fucking load," you tell her. She has no idea, really, that you've got one hand on the receiver, the other just pinching the bridge of your nose - neither of which are you jerking the cum out of your cock and balls like a fucking hydrant as you’d described. What she doesn't know won't hurt her, and you keep your face turned to the side as she starts screaming. As it starts running into one noise that lasts forever - so unbearable that, this time, you consider going out to the bathroom to grab a glass of water and a handful of painkillers. "Need it deep. Let me pour it in, yeah?"

"Yes," she gasps again, heard on this distant frequency because, yes, yes, you've plugged your ear with a finger.

"That'll satisfy you. C'mon, now, princess - give it right up," you tell her, but your eyes are a little dull when her moan turns out all-gagging and twitchy and spasming through it, until finally:

"Ugh."

You wait a moment for the gasping and hitching to finish.

"Good girl," is your distant reply, followed by a polite, perfunctory, "call back anytime.")

Ryujin feels like she's in grade eleven again as she stares at her phone. Boys. Drama. Girls. The drama.

The overanalyzing, the wondering, the hesitating. Fuck. She wishes she knew a way to change this, because she doesn't feel particularly mature and is somehow reduced to this girl, this idiot sitting here all embarrassed and staring and moping about a thousand different calamities at once.

She's looking right at the lock screen: the wallpaper of her and Yeji and Chaeryeong out getting coffee on a random Sunday, all bundled up. Winter. Like three, four years ago, maybe.

Ryujin looks like shit, it's funny.

But Yeji -

How she can make the winter pallor look good is beyond Ryujin's understanding. It's unfair. All the things are. Her brain is back and forth and spinning, spinning like the hands on the old clock hung up on the wall in the kitchen. So stuck on what's not quite normal. Stuck on what doesn't fucking matter - who even fucking cares who the fuck she's attracted to?

She feels it between her legs.

Has been for like a month, or longer, without an outlet. Without anything to give her the hint that maybe she can get back to it - the right it.

She doesn't need to call, she tells herself. She's not some weirdo who's sitting on this for days just in the hopes that her boyfriend is having a bad week with work or whatever. It's only Wednesday, technically. Still way early. Just another few days, she reasons, another few hours - what does it matter?

Wednesday. She can feel the word settle inside of her.

Though only once her bottom lip is chewed to hell, does she pick up her phone and decide she will.

(You're in your bedroom this time around, finishing up your own weekday workout - on the bike, fifteen-second sprints - when your phone goes off. A simple dinging. Very unassuming.

The operator comes in with a cool, level, "line two, callback."

Then there's nothing but silence for a few beats.

You towel some of the sweat off your face. It's warm - your skin, flushed. Bouncing your phone in your palm. The same feeling that's been tugging at your throat for the past two weeks starts to flare and swell.

Not quite a hope, not quite expectation: just something close.

"Are they still there?"

The operator confirms. "Shall I put them through?")

Ryujin fumbles in her own rush of bravado, hands pressing against the fronts of her thighs in an unflattering, nervous little gesture as the connection clicks and picks up.

"This is him," comes your voice, a little husky and raspy from all the day-to-day talk, but even and easygoing and maybe - just maybe - something she can hang on to. Ryujin gives an acknowledging "Mmmn," like the phone call isn't causing her major inner-turmoil.

"Right, ah." You sound kind of, dare she say, nervous yourself. You clear your throat into the line and ask, "what brings you here, stranger?"

Ryujin pauses at this; the red in her ears reaches her fucking jaw. Stranger. Jesus christ, okay, okay-

She laughs. Stops immediately at how self-conscious she sounds. Clears her throat and tucks some of her hair back - settles herself into it like her life hangs in the balance. "I'm here to get my rocks off."

"It's not usually my place to say," you begin in earnest, "but if you're anything like me, and this is gonna sound completely off-the-cusp, but those two weeks really seem to build up, don't they?"

God.

She pulls her sock off her ankle. There's eczema on her heel, and it's the kind of thing she can imagine Yeji telling her to not scratch - that she's going to fuck up her skin. It's funny the stupid fucking things she can remember and all the things she forgets. Like just now, with your voice in her ear, a little unsure in a way that says you've got other, much more important things you should be doing. But you're here with her.

With Ryujin.

God. She might hate herself a little.

"Um," is how she finds her bearings. "Actually."

"It's a joke. Not that- I mean." She hears some rustling - assumes it's coming through the ear piece. There's an abrupt slamming on her side of the line and it seems like the worst kind of deja-fucking-vu. Her neighbors. She forgets it's even this late into the evening. That other people don't have to work so hard in their free-time.

"Maybe this isn't a good night," she says, not so much as thinking the words.

"What?" you ask. Then it dawns on you. "No, no. If you're there, I'm here." You clear your throat. "Besides, there's nobody I'd rather hear from than a woman so desperate she's signed onto my frequent flier's club."

She stops chewing the insides of her cheeks long enough to give you a tired, irritated sound. "Whatever."

And you nearly choke trying not to laugh.

"I don't, um-"

"What, do I have a nice voice?" You laugh quietly.

Under normal circumstances, that wry edge, the bit of try-hard-humor would have her rolling her fucking eyes clean out of their sockets. So when instead she opens her mouth and a fatal-fucked-flirty-feminine, stop, comes out, the vowel pulled long like a plea or a request - well, Ryujin's forehead drops against her bedspread in immediate regret.

You seem startled by it too, going quiet for a second.

"I-I'm-"

"Cute," you decide.

Her ears are red-hot and her cheeks have to be pinking and god, she hates this. That she's hearing this so soon, and it's making her brain hazy and soft and stuttering through, um's and yeah, well, um's. A part of her can't believe she's paying for this, and then, at the same time, she can't believe she's not actually putting cash down for more right this second.

Because it feels -

Like maybe -

Her shoulders rise. She wants this to be quick; she hates this feeling of embarrassment creeping its way in and grabbing onto her with both hands, like this weird, pseudo-affection. She's a grown fucking woman and here she is, letting all her guard down for someone she doesn't even fucking know.

You can feel the tension, hear it. Your lips purse. You try for something easy.

"Go on and give me the details, Ryujin."

Before you'd even picked up, she'd already half-undone her shirt, the flaps of the collar hanging loose with her hands gently petting her ribcage - so easily giving and pliant that there's a good portion of her, in spite of the doubt, in spite of what seems completely illogical about all this, that has her realizing maybe she wants this more than she can possibly understand.

God, she feels like a fucking fool.

"It's pretty boring."

"Not to me. I've spent the last few weeks talking to a bunch of assholes who don't appreciate what they got in the first place," you reply. She imagines you're a little playful about it. Wonders, momentarily, how good that smirk looks - if your eyebrows are lifting like you've been teasing her since day one. Fuck.

“Your operator is a total asshole too, by the way."

"Don't say that," is Ryujin's shy reply, practically moaned out. "You sound like someone I'd absolutely fucking hate, jesus, stop that."

"Just because you don't get on with someone, doesn't mean they can't get you off."

"Smooth, or something."

"I'm taking a break, relaxing a little, enjoying an overrated TV show or whatever this is - not really minding my business," you say, but your smile is so audible it's fucking offensive. And she's - she's maybe, definitely into that. Like the fucking embarrassment in this is turning her on. Ryujin puts the tip of her finger in the waist of her shorts, experimentally, gently, this small brush and press to her sensitive lower stomach. And it's true. All she hears is her own breathing in the receiver, a bit labored over the slightest, least indecent touch. It's amazing, how much her body can want even when her head can't seem to catch up.

"What do you like?" she asks. “You’re a person, working bits and all, something’s gotta get you all worked up and flustered, no?”

"Will you believe me if I tell you this is my absolute favorite?"

"Do you always dodge the question?"

"It's just like a courtesy," you clarify, "it's not personal."

"Now I sound like a desperate pervert."

"On the contrary," is your warm, buttery reply, and it is fucking aggravating just how well this works on her. "I think there are much better things people can say about you."

God, that - the thought, the possibility of something about her that has nothing to do with how 'thick' or 'thin' her thighs are, or the silhouette of her ass in safety shorts, or how her voice makes guys want to ask if they can take her home and fuck the answers from her, or any of that; it's kind of liberating, just a tiny bit. That it can be a good thing for some reason. God.

Ryujin rubs herself. "Yeah, well."

She wants it all the same and says nothing, shifting a little until her hips tilt slightly upwards, letting her pull at the drawstring of her shorts, loosening the grip. She's already kind of feeling woozy in all the best ways, soft and feminine in how she slides her hand underneath her shorts. Over panties first, with no clear idea if you can tell and honestly, too distracted to wonder about that, if she should care or not, too caught up with her fingertips over the raised seam in her underwear - where the fabric's wet from her.

A shush comes into the line when Ryujin swallows.

The ache between her legs grows louder.

"You still there, Ryujin?"

"Of course," and then, she finds a little more reassured finality: "fuck, yeah, fuck. Please, I..."

"Ryujin," you say with all the calm and control in the world, "talk to me."

(So - truthfully, honestly, factually - you are a total wreck.

You're sitting there in a heap of bedsheets and a cold sweat when Ryujin finally mutters into the silence, "thanks, for that, I, uh- that felt really good, exactly what I needed," and hangs up before you can ask about her day or comment on the weather or suggest calling back tomorrow.

She is just perfect, the way she lets a small "I..." slip when she's close. Perfect, how she groans her little broken, satisfied sigh of a yes, her last, fleeting exhale just a sweet, high, barely there please, her body tensing with every little shudder and moan and pant. How the pace goes fast and then slow - like she's gotta think it out a second, her own fingers bringing her closer and closer until there's nothing but a flurry of movement and ragged breaths - an enthusiastic little mmph noise - followed by Ryujin's wet and slick little laugh that sounds like relief.

Like you did something to help, like she needed you and wanted you.

There's cum sticking all up your torso and along your wrist, the inside of your thigh - everywhere you could manage, frankly - and, shit, it's not fair, you realize:

She can find you, whenever she needs you.

And you -

You're just sitting here. Nowhere near sure she'll even call again.)

There's a sizable difference between being lonely and being alone, Ryujin thinks, running the cloth under the stream of the shower and then pressing it damp against her throat, wiping at the backs of her knees.

Lonely means that something's missing - it's something she feels when she catches a glance at the handsome arm reached around Chaeryeong's waist, the way she dances so close to someone she just met, or whenever she tells her that she's thinking about, maybe, probably, definitely, absolutely going home with him if her friends don't stop her from leaving. God, her smile is always so cute when he's near. When someone's calling her over for drinks - hips sashaying like she doesn't know the whole bar is staring at the creases where her thighs flare into her ass - because he gave her a look from across the room, and she's swaying from drink to drink.

Like, of course, they're fucking; it's a known, unsaid thing.

She knows it, he knows it. Chaeryeong fucking owns it.

Alone however, is just what it says on the tin.

That's something else Ryujin has yet to learn - that everyone loves differently, cares for different things. Yuna is still single after all, and she can never shake the feeling that it's simply to spite her for some perceived slight or another; Yuna can't live without company, no matter how brief or short or meaningless, so perhaps it's better she never catches on or finds anyone worth keeping around.

And Yeji?

Ryujin sighs, rakes the comb through her wet hair.

The showerhead is running hot between Ryujin's fingers, and the water coming off of her skin turns to steam instantly, filling the bathroom with a permanent cloud, stuck in flux - rising towards the ceiling. She passes her fingers under it, watches the flow, a quiet hm escaping the back of her throat - and she considers the way it feels beating against her throat and chest.

Down the concave curve of her stomach. How it burns red right over her thighs. The pressure slips and sinks low, lower - and when she puts a palm out for a little stability, her left leg can't help but buckle just so, lifting itself out and off to the side. So she stands, toes pointing against the shower floor, face first into her arm against the cool tile.

Ryujin sees where the rivulets of water have gathered above her clavicle - feels them trail down over the tightness in her breasts and between. A couple images pass through her mind at once - thoughts of fingers trailing a line back up the center of her body and a gentle tap against her chin, turning her face to some perfect all-consuming kiss - a hand squeezing at her calf, rubbing her muscles gently - Yeji smiling into the crook of her neck, the grasp on her hip, wrist flexing. Her back bowed and fingers, broad and experienced -

"Don't need you," Ryujin quietly says to nobody, which -

You're doing so well, Ryujin hears back in her imagination, you're so beautiful, you can keep this up, I know you can. I bet it feels good, doesn't it? Just let go and I'll...

Ryujin whimpers out. She can feel that line deep inside her going taut, buckling in her core, the reverberations down to her wrists and fingertips and toes. If she didn't have the wall in front of her, she knows she'd be on her knees - kneeling to the hot water pulsing around the knots of nerves right behind her clit. The pressure hitting her like the crack of a whip.

"Fuck me," she says to no one, gasping in that way you only can when no one is listening.

Yeji's smile is what's gotten her this close so many times, the smell of the ends of her hair tickling Ryujin's nose. Hell, she can't stop thinking about the way her nose crinkles or her dimples flare just when she finds Ryujin's name in her mouth.

It's not fair.

She's so close to cumming and letting whatever happens happen. The slick of her release pouring right out into the drain of the shower, washed away with the excess. So when her whole hand shifts and catches in just the right, delicious, frustrating way, Ryujin inhales so deep through the end of the sentence that, as a result, her knees wobble.

She feels like fucking crying.

It's that sweet little lilt in Yeji's voice, saying things like: "It's alright. I promise you can keep this up a little longer." And "Oh, god, baby." And, at worst, the way her voice shakes with a "come here, honey. Let me-"

Ryujin has to catch herself when her footing slips a little from under her. Then, your voice, coming in distant at first, grows louder, clearer. Into something catastrophic, right against her throat, like it knows the very inside-and-out of her, "go on. Fuck, please, cum all over me, baby - show me a face no one else gets to see."

And for the first time,

Ryujin gets herself off. Alone.

She moans and sighs out. Gasps, "there you go-" and whispers an, "ah, jesus." She manages the most silent, the least decipherable, fuck, as it leaves her mouth like a prayer. Her left knee twitches, body curling into itself, and her hand moves - fingers closing and her eyes clenched shut, a wave, cresting - she just-

Collapses.

Wanting: Yeji, sure - and she came - but the only thing she can really wrap her head around is the truth that she's so, utterly fucked.

"Are you sure there's no one you can bring?" Yeji asks in the middle of slapping the ever-loving shit out of a coffee maker that has, for as far as anyone can remember, never worked.

"Uh," is Ryujin's inconvenienced reaction, the tips of her fingers idly sorting through her credit card statements, which a more-sober, less-horny version of herself is a little out of sorts over. "I'm not sure there's anyone I'd want to bring."

"Uh huh," Yeji replies.

She pauses and rests the bottom edge of the coffee maker on the edge of the kitchen counter, stopping herself mid-smack - leaning away to try and give the stupid thing a once-over.

"Who the hell says it's got to be someone you wanna make babies with? Maybe it's just someone you'd think would look good beside you, smiling at the cameras with. Or."

"Or."

Yeji's lips tilt. "Or someone you wouldn't mind screwing in the bathroom."

Ryujin spins the pen in her fingers and gives Yeji a look that says back off and can you chill out already, in the sort of way it takes years to ferment - the silent understandings, the good-natured naggings, the good-fucking-luck-with-that-buddy's. Yeji knows she's getting on Ryujin's nerves. Knows that has never stopped her before.

"In my defense," Yeji clarifies, "I can count at least a hundred people that would crawl over broken glass to sleep with you and, uh-" She knocks the coffee maker off of its stand and holds it gingerly to her chest like some child, motherly. "-I don't wanna take a bullet for your unintentional chastity, Shin Ryujin."

"First of all, don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor here," she replies. "Second-"

"Can't hurt just asking, right? I could set you up, you know, someone you've never even met - no pre-burnt bridges to maneuver."

There’s a world, and Ryujin imagines it for all of a second, where she stands up and grabs hold of Yeji by her cute little ponytail - if nothing else, just to stop the way it bounces every time she steps - and maybe, she also kisses her on the mouth so hard she stumbles. Or perhaps she could pull that ribbon free of its holdings and unravel it down against Yeji's jaw. Pull a whimper, a tiny little ah that says this was inevitable. Maybe they crash onto her bed. Maybe she gets her fingers sticky with how soaked through the cotton of Yeji's shorts have gotten in those short, heated moments - what a world that would be.

"One of what's-his-name's friends? I’m assuming."

Yeji looks annoyed and proud and beautiful; all at once.

"Yes, and what's-his-name's pillow talk is exceedingly whiny about how my best friend is so incredibly standoffish and abrasive and-"

"Okay. I'll go." Anything to stop the image of Yeji with the comforter pulled up to her tits and hair splayed all over the place; red and flushed. Her lips curling with the curve of the sheets and god -

"Just for an hour?" Ryujin asks.

Yeji finally places the coffee maker back onto its stand.

"I mean, nothing much happens an hour into a birthday party," Yeji reassures. "It'll be fun."

"Uh-huh."

"Trust me."

Ryujin wonders just how far Yeji could go - if she knows that she can snap her fingers together, and Ryujin will be there: ready to do anything.

Ryujin is trying to go to sleep, is how she'll explain it if anyone asks. Though she prays to god no one ever will.

She tries books. And she tries scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. And there's this one guy she kinda-sorta-dated's updates: photos of a vacation to Boracay, which seems nice; his chest is a little more defined, more chiseled than when she was seventeen and kind of fumbling her way around a college boy and his stupid fucking preoccupation with who should be paying for drinks at whatever run down establishment was his pick of the night. Ryujin makes a face at the screen, pursing her lips; there's a girl in the photo - she looks too young for how her ass is falling out the one-piece. To the extent that she makes sure to send an unsolicited meme she's tagged herself in - like "here is my past and here are his balls", and gets a block and a report as a thank you.

It makes her feel good. That's what's most important.

And then, with little other distraction and a decent lack of luck, she picks up the phone.

It rings for a while before the operator comes in and says, "You're at number nine."

"What?"

"The queue. This call has you at number nine."

Ryujin slowly leans up from the pillows and squints into her bedroom.

"Huh."

"Would you still like to be connected, miss?

Ryujin thinks it over for a moment. Of course you're popular, a part of her mind comments, because you've got a voice like gravel-slung honey-gold. She's imagining eight other girls just like her, laying in their bed, panties on their ankles and thumbs covered with spit. All desperate for you. All curled up - one right after the other - with no fucking idea.

"Miss," the operator comes back with.

The line goes quiet - a few beats, but not too uncomfortable a silence. Then she gets a soft little exhale out, saying, "can I leave a callback number?"

"If you like." The operator considers the idea. "I can’t promise whether he’ll call you.”

“No, yeah.” Ryujin curls an arm under her chest and plays a finger against the swell of her breast through her night shirt. Gets lost in her own consideration. “Don't think he would anyway."

A new day is defined by new possibilities, or something or another you read once stitched into a frame; Something you muse over the rim of your coffee, nose-deep in the laptop at the kitchen counter top.

Last night ended a bit unexpectedly - this not considering the couple's awkward fight which took up two-thirds of the evening. Or the girlfriend-slash-fiancée of that guy, which somehow led you to wonder just how old was too old. But as you were logging your final client session of the night a ping came through the employee portal and let you know that someone had left their number with the operator in the hopes you'd call.

You swig back the rest of your coffee, roll your shoulders and shrug. Oh, there are at least a million reasons not to call a number that randomly, offhandedly arrives in the middle of the night and gets patched through a phonesex hot line under the cover of darkness.

The same number could be out there, defacing the wall of a truck stop bathroom, or inked into the skin of a squat prison convict who's got a brow like the horizon. Maybe, it belongs to that married business man that took your personal phone number as his private line and spent all the time bragging how he was going to quit his wife and make a run for it with you - just you - even though you'd rather stab him with a fork than be involved with that kind of psychopathy and are honestly just looking for that extra bump in commissions every time his wife calls to ask the exact same thing.

Your clients call. You talk.

You take the cash.

The point is: there's more fucking deviants out there than there are stars in the sky. You would know; you talk to a new handful every goddamn day.

Yet it doesn't really matter. You're gonna do it. Because you're feeling restless. Because - and it sounds insane - there's at least some probability, no matter how remote, that you will pick up that receiver and punch in a number and the line will connect with the girl who's been on your mind almost constantly for the better half of two months. That you might listen to the dial tone turn into her answering with a genuinely indifferent, "this is Ryujin," or whatever her name actually is -

You're living in a pipe dream. You're probably reaching, actually. And all you know about this woman, is, what? What does it really, factually, truly amount to, the amount you feel you've come to know about her.

You know more about how she prefers to methodically, meticulously begin, then draw out, and finally end a blowjob to someone that ain't you than you do about any detail in her life story, frankly. You're reaching, and you know it.

You pick up the phone and dial.

(It goes straight to voicemail, and get this: that’s her real fucking name.)

Yuna has the audacity to ask, as she slides into the booth, "who do you keep texting?"

Ryujin's eyebrow arches.

The younger girl nods towards where Ryujin's thumbs are practically flying over the keyboard.

"No one." Ryujin puts the phone on her lap and crosses her arms over her chest. Then the words seem to echo through the inside of her skull, so she shakes her head a little, in emphasis. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

She's right though - and maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why it's hard to answer.

Chaeryeong washes the shot of whisky down with a swallow of lemon-lime. Her eyes slide open to Ryujin as she wipes at her bottom lip. Then she spikes a finger into Ryujin's ribs.

"Spill."

It's a dangerous order, and she doesn't realize it at first. Chaeryeong's bad ideas have an annoying habit of flinging themselves on Ryujin, like a bomb dropped at low altitude - sudden, quick, and more than enough to shake everything up. Chaeryeong will make Ryujin go out dancing - and then she'll lose her clutch purse. Chaeryeong will remember she started the evening with a scarf - so they need to walk out a whole block or two to find it.

More importantly: Chaeryeong is not a great drunk.

So, of course she spills. She relays her findings, carefully and as deliberately as she can muster.

"Does he have a nice voice?" Chaeryeong asks.

"It's kind of deep?”

Chaeryeong snorts. Apologizes immediately.

"Not... deep. Sultry. I guess. Smooth, easy to hear." Ryujin tells the two across the table.

Yuna whistles low. "Romantic as shit."

“Fuck, I don’t know. In, like a sexy sort of way." Ryujin raises both palms in a vague gesture. She clears her throat at the two pairs of eyes staring back at her as though the words coming out of her mouth belonged to a foreign language. "Uh. Sort of raspy, or something, sometimes, like he's... on the phone a lot, and you know," Ryujin flushes, suddenly caught and wondering where all the confidence went, "yeah."

Yuna's leaning forward, chin in her palm. "I'm having a hard time believing texting is a sort of standard operating procedure."

"Well try a little harder," Ryujin snaps, eyes finding Yuna's and making herself fucking clear.

Chaeryeong has this look about her, she's trying to keep it all in, but then there's her eyes, cinched at the corners and dead-fucking-giveaways. She puts an arm against the table and points at Ryujin with an up-reaching thumb. "This is the cutest shit, like ever, and you two are texting like actual lovers instead of two, apparently rando-stranger fuck buddies, or whatever."

Yuna - for whatever reason - feels at liberty to throw gasoline on the fire. "Does that mean you think he's going to get jealous if you bring some dude along to Lia's birthday?"

Ryujin sucks in a breath; the fact that he'd never - well.

"Ryujin's in love," Yuna adds for dramatic effect, for the sake of being the worst fucking person. She can be so fucking petty. It's a side of her no one ever sees, because she's just so sweet all the time. Like right now, she's doing that smile-smirk thing that gets Chaeryeong giggling against her hand and then coughing into it a second later.

"Jesus christ," Ryujin starts gathering her jacket and purse. "He's- not- this is- God, I'm done." She slips her shoulder under the strap. "Thanks for listening to me sound like a teenager."

"Isn't that just normal for you," Yuna quips back, pulling at her straw until there's only air rushing through the bend of it. "Where are you going?"

"I can't stay here," Ryujin says as if it's obvious, as well as her point, the argument she's trying to make. "Besides, Yeji is gonna want me to get my dress and shit all sorted out."

"Don't fall in love with one of the robot voices at the cross-walk on your way home, or anything!" Yuna laughs out, giving a flippant wave goodbye.

Ryujin lets her eyes roll because sometimes, she hates her friends.

It still throws you for a loop whenever Ryujin pings your phone with a text that says something like:

have you jerked yourself off to exhaustion or is there one more in you for someone like me?

Or,

my roommate is getting pounded through the springs of her mattress, wanna see if you can hear it?

Or,

are you free? I really fucking need to cum. bad.

Each text is something you tuck into yourself. Save and mark and spend all your time in those long-form responses imagining how her face looked when her brain typed out the words for you. You wonder if she's sighing through her fingers or hiding her lips behind a pillow while the heat coils in the pits of her hips.

As time goes by, Ryujin slips a little more. From one text about whatever book or series she was rereading last and another about the sadism of politicians and how people are more likely to agree with what they've heard someone else say than the facts of a given subject, to texts with a few scattered thoughts to strings of sexting that has you cumming into the palm of your hand and through your sheets and in the middle of a dream in which there's no clothes and a pretty fucking filthy proposition.

"How have you been lately," you decide, and consider, briefly, the very strong likelihood this call is gonna send her right through the goddamn roof.

When Ryujin eventually finds herself able to get out: "fine," there's a tell-tale pause, then an even longer pause, that implies she'd definitely rather say anything else. Then she kind of stutters a, "pretty good. Not too bad. All that stuff, I suppose."

And not to say any part of this has felt like routine. Both of you breathing into the end of a telephone and letting your eyes clench tight while you cum all over yourself - imagining everything she told you she wanted you to do to her, how it'd all go: "fucking with my arms grappled behind my back," she'd hum, "head pushed into the bedsheets, you're smothering me, ah- I'd let you cum wherever the fuck you like, but please-" or maybe a bit simpler: "so my thighs are straddling your face?" is about the gist.

A second goes by, another, a third.

"Hang on," you end up having to tell her sometimes, "I need a fucking towel-"

"You really are, huh, jerking off with me- I get you that hot, is what you're telling me? Or is just too much imagining how you'd fuck your way right into my guts through my pretty little pussy? Ah, jesus," the cadence of her voice climbs high before ending up back where it belongs, "Jesus, fuck."

"Can you imagine," is how it'd start, "how good it'd feel? My pussy, or- anywhere, everywhere. I think you'd ruin me for anyone else - you- with how, god-"

You can hear Ryujin shift on the sheets, licking at her bottom lip. Silently cumming. Cumming for you.

"Okay."

"Okay what," Ryujin quietly says back.

The gears turning.

You press your hand into the side of your neck. "Fuck me. Now, in a second. Tell me the last fucking thing in the world you want me to be or do and-"

"Wait."

There's this half-breath. This hmm that almost trips off Ryujin's tongue. Her eyes squinting open to a new thought. You think she's about to be sly. About to surprise you with an offhand fuck yes I'd ride that face like a bus seat; that she might come back with, yes I'll put you right in the middle of the best part of me, god you'll love it, and I promise not to make you cum if you're nice enough not to let your hands wander. But.

It's funny how things are -

"I have a confession," she says, matter-of-factly.

That's not entirely unusual. You've had more of those come through your line in a year than a confessional grate might get in a lifetime. So it doesn't sound like something special to you; Ryujin and you are in this candid don't-ask-don't-tell in regards to payments and the exchange of goods and services, but here you are, still using lines and bits. Practiced.

"In the name of the father, and of the son, and-"

"Funny." Ryujin gets the hint to backtrack. "Uhm, I mean. Remember the roommate I was telling you about?"

You hum a, "maybe."

"Uh," and now the hushed voice from her throat sounds distant, suddenly out of the scope of the receiver, "can I be totally, honestly- just really, extremely honest here, are you- or?"

You stop thinking about the ebbs and flows of her voice, how it dips down then arches up a little. Because now her voice has become something that is nervous, bordering on uneasy. So you stop, take stock and hold on. You weren't expecting a voice of worry or tension, or not at least while she wasn't thrown back into her bed and rubbing furiously at the ache between her legs.

"Yeah, of course," you offer her up.

"This is so embarrassing," she's saying, and some part of you feels ready to sink - you haven't the faintest idea for what, but there is something. Your chest clenches.

You can't help the worry and reply: "Okay, um. I mean- yeah. Me too, I can admit I feel a bit- and you can, y'know, be a little-"

"I'm not straight," she says finally, with a little quiver of her voice right at the tail end.

A blink comes, another - there's nothing coming out of you and you have no idea why that should be at all difficult, so the silence grows long. A new sort of awkward; the kind that you find out isn't just the rush of cum cooling in a pair of sweat-damp underwear. No - this is embarrassment, the kind that taints you.

"What?" You exhale a strained laugh, almost too-bright. "Are you- is this some sort of-?"

"Nope, no, this is crazy, sorry." She laughs. "Sorry."

"You certainly had me fooled." You sit up straighter in your bed, resting elbows on your knees. The moon is filtering through the windowsill and bathing the room in blue - casting light all the wrong ways. Making your own heart beat just a little too fast. "Fuck, um. Can I ask a personal question?"

"Sure." Her voice sounds uncharacteristically soft.

"What are you into?" and you as soon as you ask, you're laughing - because you've heard Ryujin wax lyrical for weeks, pontificate about every manner and way she'd take a cock between her hands, lips, fingers. Every. Single. Place, she wants one in - and now you can't believe this is what you went with: "I mean, like girls?"

"It's probably safe to assume I have some, y'know- degree of- yeah."

You chuckle a bit. The stiffness in your shoulders settling out.

"I've been in love, I realize - boy, with my roommate - for a while."

It's said with a sad laugh - as if this were a little shameful. Some deep, dark secret no one could ever be privy to; some stain on her soul that might wash out only after one final scrubbing with dish detergent and the cruelest bristles. A thing that keeps her up at night -

“Not the roommate, by the way, who we listen to get fucking railed like she’s on-demand pornography every weekend. Just to be clear."

"Good, jesus, that'd be fucking something."

Ryujin sounds more cheerful when her voice comes back through the line, "right?"

You wipe the perspiration of your top lip. You laugh nervously at this girl admitting to being in love over the phone - a stranger, truly, in all ways - to some fucked up audio-fetish sex line personality. And now - the fuck's wrong with you?

"Are you mad?" she asks, and some part of you is wrung. A small string of tension twisting so hard inside your gut, you're losing touch.

"No," you let her know. "No, not at all."

And that is honest. This is honest. There's this itching little scratch all over the insides of your skin that seems intent on driving a fucking wedge. Right at the center of your chest, tearing you apart. It feels as you've lost - not an object, not a material. Not an idea, nor a concept - but a feeling, that for once, was distinctly, overwhelmingly yours, without your wanting, or permission, or comprehension.

Ryujin sighs, this elongated relief coming in. She sinks back against the headboard.

She tells you everything. How Yeji smiles, and it's like the whole fucking room has gone up in lights, just from her and her alone. How there is nothing that she'd rather spend all her days around. She talks and you sit there, silent and listening. She talks about her. Her name and everything Yeji does and everything she wants.

The more you listen, you realize it's all real; she's not confused, or mistaken, or out to play a game or convince herself of something she believes is inherently untrue. She's not frustrated, or longing. She doesn't have this stomach-rolling pit of anxiety digging a cavern at her center because she just can't go through the rest of her life, living a life like everyone else. Not ever.

Because, all you really notice is-

She loves Yeji. The quiet kind. And she's sitting there, legs curled under her ass, crying. Not sad, or frightened, or wounded, just this beautiful sort of awed: it's the kind that only someone who is too inexperienced at crying should have. Where you just-

Look away.

"I'm not taking my phone into the bath with me," is the last thing she says to you, tears flooding out in her last couple words, before you can only offer her a meek: "anytime, Ryujin, I'm here."

(Four, five weeks go by in the blink of an eye. A month where you figure it's best to let her text or call or make it clear she wants your voice.

She never does.)

Lia is taking her sweet time to apply concealer over the cut Ryujin earned herself trying to get a stupid thing off a shelf - that's how low and unreasonable her tolerance for anything mildly inconvenient is.

"That fucking hurts," Ryujin tells her, wincing.

Lia ignores her.

She keeps on dabbing at the spot on her temple with the makeup brush until there isn't any trace of bruising, or where the jagged scar of a cut ends and skin begins, not anymore. At this point, she has gotten better, has developed a kind of surgeon's eye: zeroing in and unblinking, until every inch of damage is looking like Ryujin did when she was brought into this world -

(which is not perfect, but what it ought to look like, all things considered.)

Lia holds her hands in place on either side of Ryujin's head. "Stay."

It takes less than five minutes, and during those, Yuna just offers from around the bathroom door, "Ryujin, sweetheart, you’re looking hot tonight."

There's nothing more Ryujin wants to do than set the girl straight - the girl can't not keep a chirp to herself, for once in her fucking life. Because this flimsy slip of a dress around her middle feels too tight, the air choked out of her lungs if she shifts her weight onto the wrong foot. The hem rides way too fucking high up her thighs. So, if anyone didn't want a good long look at her ass tonight, they better come up with a plan B if she has to so much as approach a staircase.

"Have I ever not," she bites.

Yuna snorts.

And luckily for Ryujin, Lia feels the same way:

"Yuna, would it kill you to find something productive to do with your time?"

Yuna opens her mouth like she has something to say (she usually does) before retreating further away, the edge of her hair disappearing around the doorway. Then Ryujin's grinning - eyes taking in how Lia glowers a bit back, silently judging the stupidity in Ryujin's expression and also, admiring how good the girl looks. "Not bad, though, really."

Lia tells her with an underhanded wave of the brush and a wink: "historically, you do always get laid on my birthday, remember?"

Ryujin jerks a little, and the scar above her eye throbs into Lia's thumb. "Thanks?"

The party is miserable, but it's not Lia's fault. It's not really Yeji's fault either. They tried, that's really all she can say for them - her and her permanent-plus-one whose face Ryujin wants to both claw at and kiss until it’s swollen-

What she really can't wrap her mind around, though, is the guy sitting right fucking beside her. The idiot.

"Really, I'm telling you," her date - who is about 3.5 out of five stars at best and not so much handsome or hot as he is 'okay in a pinch' - grins up at her with the smarmiest of smiles, "if you'd just have taken me up on dinner, I would've spent all our time talking about you. We’d figure out how to enjoy ourselves."

"Likely story."

This fuckwad has the absolute goddamn gall to look wounded when his arm starts circling its way around the space where her dress is suffocating her at the waist, and Ryujin starts to shimmy her way out of hot water - again. God, she thinks, god save me-

"I think," she manages with a stilted grin, "I'm going to make myself useful- drinks, no?"

When he leans forward to grab her hand, it's only so she doesn't leave.

"You're not going to ask for my order?" he presses. The only reason Ryujin hasn't knocked out a couple of his front teeth is because Lia would be the one hearing Yeji whine about cleaning up the fucking mess.

"Just scotch. Neat."

Ryujin's a natural when it comes to smiling fake; it's part of her goddamned job. "Of course," she says, like she's not absolutely loathing him.

"Try the oakier, single-barrel variety, alright," he explains, because what's hotter than a man who's an expert in alcohol and being an insufferable tool? Nothing of course. She hopes he knocks back a few too many and his liver explodes - the painless way out. If god would ever fucking allow it.

She barely manages a half-strangled laugh over the blare of the music before he finally releases her wrist.

The absolute fucking prick.

Here's something Ryujin never thought she'd come to appreciate:

Being alone.

It's just her and the breeze through the open doors of the rooftop garden, which is something every bit as refreshing as it is teeth-chatteringly cold. The wind picks up in gusts and billows, until it starts nipping up the fabric around her knees, like it's any one of the drunk, stumbling guests milling about and looking for a noncommittal lay.

Her left foot slips a step outwards, the uncomfortably tall heel bouncing on the edge of her toe and tapping a tune against the brick. Ryujin slouches on the railing that encapsulates the entire terrace, arms pressed over it, hands folded one-over the other - letting the night sky caress her bare shoulders with its wind-brushed kisses. This, is okay. It's better.

Maybe not ideal, but better.

And all it really took was a few fucking moments where she isn't smiling with pursed, stressed lips; where the pressure in her jaw finally settles out enough for the knot in the back of her teeth to fall loose and for her mouth to actually feel, y'know - good.

Not forced, is what. Not fake, or not real, or whatever-

Ryujin almost fishes her phone from her clutch. Almost. Almost texts to tell you that: this fucking night, like all the others in the past month or two or year, has left her feeling particularly done for, and yeah, no, it isn't helping that she'd take whatever would be the alternative if it meant a face like yours came in handy to lean against, or your shoulder or thigh to use. Like some pillow - that's all.

And you are, like. An option. But not, she sighs out, exactly the right one.

An errant chill shudders through her and down her spine.

"Shin Ryujin."

She'd recognize the tilt of that voice anywhere; even if her ears were pounding and her head filled with static and noise, she'd be able to place Yeji at the end of the world. The truth is easy to see, if only Yeji knew where to look: the corners of Ryujin's eyes screw up tight for a second, an immeasurably long time, in order to not do what they wanted. What it would mean.

She does anyway. "I'd hug you," Ryujin throws behind her with an airy sigh, "but I know where you've been."

Yeji's jaw has set at this point; a twist is still in her lip and she lets out this dry, half-laugh, half-not sound - which is the thing that drives Ryujin a little crazy. Yeji turns her attention from the concrete ground, to Ryujin's profile, her body leaning forward, toes tipping in: "sometimes I wonder if my partner in crime can breathe without saying something incendiary."

"Nope." Ryujin offers no further response or follow-up. Instead, the quiet gush of air makes itself the center of attention and a victim of silence.

"Sorry about-"

"Don't be. Don't give it a second thought." Ryujin stretches, leaning a little over the railing. Her fingers arch before her. Her words sounding the slightest bit cold, "can't win 'em all, right?"

Yeji's eyebrows pull together. "That's not how this was supposed-"

"God, Yeji." Ryujin smiles. Yeji hates that she never knows what that means. "I'm trying, really, I am, but you know - I really, I have tried my best, so can we just lay it to rest?"

Yeji leans over the railing - the fucking moon reflecting in these lustrous pools where her eyes go darker than night - and doesn't say anything for the longest moment. Ryujin chews her tongue, and tries to look as interested in the void of stars and night clouds as possible.

"Fuck's going on with you, lately?"

Ryujin just laughs back.

"Really," and the last word dips in a groan. It's almost childishly tragic how petulantly she insists, "talk to me."

But Ryujin has nothing else to say - no witty, scathing remarks. No deadpan observations or funny asides, not even a morose comment to throw back. There are times and moments and fucking periods of her day where she'd happily chew glass if it meant that Yeji would sit there a second longer, be beside her for a while and smile, just smile at only her, once - for once.

Her only response is the worst kind of lie, this soft: "really nothing."

The moment where it slips and hangs between them, when it lingers the longest -

She could reach out, a hand on her thigh, the small of her back, if she could only reach. And Yeji, she'd listen to her, for once. She'd really, genuinely hear what Ryujin says; like she can see it, plain as day, everything there's in Ryujin's eyes, the thoughts inside her head, written on her goddamn face and across the open night air in neon:

I love you. I'm in love with you, you're too close to me.

The seconds pass. They tick, they stretch and grow thin. Yeji looks at Ryujin expectantly, and Ryujin knows. It is something like being put on the spot and called in. Something like a long, pained whimper caught somewhere in her throat.

She is very much still, unmoving, and feeling nothing at all.

Maybe she can blame the alcohol, the dark, the series of events that saw her hiding away behind a bunch of decorative trees and fighting for breath where the wind blows a little cooler. She can pretend like the stars aren't absent above her, and it doesn't hurt a goddamn bit.

“Yeji, I-” She licks at her lip, ready, willing-

Ryujin grabs at her waist with a hand. Her knuckles white around the black of the railing. And with no further fanfare, she spits it out like venom, with no small measure of shame or guilt or worry for how Yeji will take it - or worse: how she herself would react in the wake of admitting it aloud -

“I love you,” Ryujin says, and it pops out of her mouth as neatly as it had the first thousand times practicing alone in her car.

A blink, and another. The look on Yeji's face is hard and blank, as if she'd understood every syllable, but didn't hear it at all - maybe. Her gaze drops, it trails a path along the long line of Ryujin's pale neck. Of the two ways it could ever go in her head, stuck on loop for as long as she can remember, Ryujin had never considered that Yeji might turn this still and vacant. A sudden feeling, a pull or a grip, starts in the lowest part of Ryujin's guts.

"And not-," she hears her own voice falter, "like-"

Then - it's on the back of Ryujin's head and in her hair, a hand curled at the base of her skull and pulling her head a little downward and her, until their foreheads meet. And before she has a chance to walk it back - to stuff it down where it came from and seal the bottle tight - before she can clench her eyes, shake her head, and spit out anything else like the fact that there was not much that had to change, between them -

Yeji just says plainly: "Yeah, hun. Love you too."

And it's shockingly, the most painful thing - that she just squeezes her hand and pats her back like it's all they could ever be. Without even the wherewithal to reject her properly; to tell her something like "don't ever say that again, god," or "oh shit- Ryujin. Sorry. So, no," or at least to spit back with a scathing laugh: "welcome to the fucking party," like what she always does.

"Yeah." Yeji clears her throat quietly and starts retreating back from the brink - with no apparent aim but to pull away as she draws herself away from the warmth of Ryujin's space, "uh, don't forget to say hello to some of the staffers before they go home, okay?"

Ryujin is left with nothing but the air that follows Yeji's outline; left with her heart sinking into the depths of the night; left trying to make sense of the bitter sting ripping her chest in two.

Left with her own hopelessness - the pining - when Yeji walks away.

To be lonely, to be alone; neither are the same.

And she hates knowing she is so incredibly both.

The worst part is she knows how it looks.

Her pace just on the verge of unsteady, the way her feet come up from the ground: Left foot, the right. The other. Back and back and forth again, faster and then slower and- fuck.

A damsel, severely distressed.

She sits down on the curb. She wants to cry, but even just the way she looks, carrying her heels and struggling with this fucking dress she wishes she'd never bothered with at all - oh, the tabloids would be sure every detail gets pinned under all the wrong lights. A breakdown would only serve to confirm all the right things; it would paint a story for anyone who cares enough to glean from her crestfallen posture and red cheeks that she is yes, a little broken, and that everyone wants to be loved and she's no different - and -

She sucks a breath. This time, when her tears fall, it's a quick, perfunctory action, no show in it.

Her palms rub her face - and she wipes, and wipes, and wipes - smearing at the foundation under her eyes before she takes a long drag of night air. Deep from her core, filling up her lungs until she can't hold anymore. Until it hurts and stings the backs of her ribs - it's enough for a single, fleeting moment. The street is mostly empty; an occasional car will speed by every now and then and it's those few and far between intervals that hurt most, that nearly shatter her: if she can barely do this, alone, how can she possibly be enough for anyone?

Ryujin’s smiling only to hold back her tears, and it fucking stings. She flicks hurriedly past the lock screen of her phone and swipes through the message stream with blurry eyes - there’s a whole host of people that want to know where the fuck she went, if she's safe, why she up and vanished the moment Yeji couldn't keep an eye on her. And well. The girl sighs.

Finds your name in her contacts and puts her thumb right beside it.

It rings exactly three times, and she hates the number. She hates how many things can be associated with that number in those seconds alone.

Four, the pause where you must have had the opportunity, but didn't decide to pick up - just leave it be. Then five - Ryujin is definitely no longer looking forward to any of this.

Six: it stops.

There's this crackle, and through the night -

"Just what brings you here, stranger?"

For an indistinct amount of time, Ryujin drifts in the whirlpool current of that question; it sinks her deeper, into the currents of your voice and the tone and what it's suggesting and demanding from her. All the things your voice is giving her permission to ask of and with and-

Until finally she answers back: "do you ever just, like, wish," a shallow pause for the hitch in her breath, "something, someone was a little more for you- or to- with you-"

The swell of a smile through the receiver; and you can't help your laugh, soft.

"Sometimes," is what you say, "that's just human, don't you think?"

She doesn't understand how something like love or life or desire should be a universal trait.

"Uh, maybe," she shrugs out, and thinks.

"It's pretty normal," you tell her.

Quiet, as if you were right in front of her.

"Look," you start, and you can hear how she sniffs her nose and swipes the pad of her hand right along the side of it, to catch anything stupid and stupid sounding leaking down to her upper lip. "You don't have to. Let's just hang out. Tell me anything."

And for once, she does.

She talks.

(The whole story.

From the first time Ryujin realizes the world is never going to be fair - that she shouldn't have to look at herself like she's unlovable because she's seen her friends be held as though they are - or at Yeji like she's completely unattainable or somehow, unlovable, and that someone as amazing as Yeji should have been loved from the moment she was born.

The rest comes through as fragments: the truth of her career. Yeji.

The balcony, the breeze, the bitter-fucking-disappointment.

And what came of that -

When Ryujin isn't a million and one words per minute, it feels, almost, it feels - she'd swear there was less noise in her own head: this thrumming in her brain has settled out; the walls around her and the echo coming off of them - the booming and pulsing - it's, gone.

Because even though there was an indistinct shape for where she had landed, in the aftermath, and nothing much had changed - all that did. You listen, and that alone makes it so you're both exactly where you’re supposed to be, even if this, tonight - you are unsure, if it will actually fix anything - if anything needs fixing at all.)

#ryujin smut #itzy smut #itzy ryujin smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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