#and they finally got back with me after a month to basically tell me

[kaysfanficcorner]

The Camgirl and the Millionaire, Part 5

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Camgirl Reader

Summary: The truth is finally revealed. How will you and Harry recover?

Author's note: Welcome to the fifth and final installment of Camgirl. Thank you for coming along for the ride. I loved every obsessive second that this story poured out of me, even when I agonized over how to handle Cam's lie. These two are my new favorite couple. In fact, Harry and Cam are two of my favorite characters I've ever written. Telling their tale has truly been the highlight of my summer. Thank you, Mr. Castillo, for being the muse who blew in like a warm breeze and just wouldn't leave.

Thank you for reading, and thank you to those of you who have interacted or will interact with this story. You guys fueled the fire on this one and it means the world to me. Stay tuned for future chapters of my Din fic Out of this World, and keep an eye out for random one shots. You never know, I may feel the need to bring Harry and Cam back out for a fun little drabble here or there.

Warnings: AGNST. This is the big one guys. Feelings are going to get hurt on both sides for a minute; Fluff; Smut; Cursing; Drinking; THC; Other characters from the movie may or may not show up; Halloween Party shenanigans; Descriptions of sex toys and bdsm equipment; Harry learns about his own kinks; Reader is basically an OC at this point and I love her; Reader is thick; Reader is goth; Reader is a sex worker; Reader has pierced nipples; Mild spoilers for the film When Harry Met Sally; Love abound.

Minors DNI, Strictly 18+

Ao3

*****

You get your photo standing in front of one of the lavish fireplaces in Peter and Charlotte Castillo’s beautiful and gigantic home as Michael Jackson’s Thriller is blasting at full volume. The fireplace isn’t lit, but rather filled with spiderwebs and green string lights. You definitely have to give it to the hosts, the house is impeccably decorated for a big Halloween party. There are orange, purple, and green lights everywhere. Streamers and balloons of the same color palette hanging from every possible sconce or inch of crown molding. Spiders, bats, ghosts, and pumpkins as far as the eye can see. You’re already a little tipsy from the unnamed green punch in the giant witch cauldron on the center of the drinks table. 

These people actually like Halloween, and it shows. Harry hadn’t been full of it when he said you and Peter would get along. 

Harry looks exactly like you’d pictured, with his hair styled in a vintage side part. He’s wearing the black and gray striped dress shirt and high waisted pleated slacks just as you requested. Your man looks every bit the dashing vintage movie star. 

The two of you pose as if slow dancing, like Price and the Skeleton in your picture back at home, and Harry tries his best to make the same far away look as the man he’s cosplaying. That was the accurate shot. Vanessa also takes a few of the two of you posing like a normal couple, smiling with your arms around each other, and then Harry grabs you and kisses you, and Vanessa also gets a picture of that. 

“My makeup!” You shriek, swatting him away.

“You said when you got your picture and you were a little drunk.” Harry shrugs innocently, lips smeared with a bit of black. He’s also tipsy, seemingly more so than you, and the two of you have been sneaking puffs from your trusty dab pen since the party started. 

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile creeping onto your lips. “I’m tipsy, not drunk. Yet.” 

Harry groans into your neck. “Well I couldn’t wait any longer. I have been deprived of you for far too long this month. And it’s not going to get much better after tonight. I’m afraid I was right when I told you that I’ll be dealing with this work shit until Thanksgiving. We won’t have much time together for the next few weeks but I’m going to try my best.” 

You frown, leaning into him. “You’re gonna make me wait that long to tell you the thing I need to tell you? I was hoping the party would loosen you up and we could talk this weekend.”

He’s definitely more than tipsy, leaning his weight into you as well, swaying a little. “I just don’t have much in the tank to give right now, sweetheart. You deserve me at full steam if it’s as important as you say it is. Let’s just have fun tonight and then I promise you I will make space for you as soon as I’m able to.”

“Alright, baby. Let’s just have fun,” you reluctantly agree, knowing right now is definitely not the time or place anyway. “Thank you for inviting me to this, I’m really happy that I finally got to meet your brother. Do you think he and Charlotte liked me?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Harry nods, moving the two of you over to get more drinks. “I can tell when Peter dislikes someone. And Charlotte warmed up to you pretty quickly after you complimented their costumes.”

Smiling, you take a generous sip of your refilled punch. This stuff is dangerous, and Harry has had a few more than you have. “They are certainly around my age if they are doing Juno and Michael Cera as a pregnancy costume. Lots of points for that in my book. That movie was all anyone talked about for a minute in high school.”

“I’m glad you knew what that was supposed to be because I had no idea.” Harry says with a shake of the head, laughing. 

Vanessa and Charles come over to refill their own drinks, and Vanessa elbows you with a scrunched nose pointed across the room. “Oh man, that’s funny. There's a guy dressed as Captain America over there. I thought Marvel was out these days?”

You and Harry follow her gaze to a guy who is, indeed, dressed as Captain America. Minus the cowl, so you can fully see his handsome face. The date on his arm isn’t wearing anything that seems to match with this superhero, though. Instead the thin woman he’s with is wearing a hooded black gown covered in a beaded spiderweb design, accessorized with silver spider jewelry. She’s undeniably beautiful, and Captain America is actually pretty fucking hot. 

Harry’s eyes bulge at the sight of that same couple entering the room. Then he looks mortified as they start to head towards the drink table and straight for the both of you.

“That’s my ex,” he’s whispering in your ear, “and her husband.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, worried suddenly that this is the one who got away or something.

“Oh yeah I’m fine. We were never going to work. I’m just shocked that they’re here and I’m not in the mood for small talk. Charlotte must have invited her.” 

An eyebrow cocks, eyes drifting back to the webbed woman. “Is that the matchmaker girl?”

He nods, “Lucy, yeah.”

Just as he’s saying her name, the woman in question gracefully moves in beside him wearing a kind smile. 

“Hi, Harry. I was wondering if we were going to see you here. You remember my husband, John?” She gestures to Cap, and then her eyes land on you. She looks you up and down and smiles. Genuinely. It’s not catty, as you’d been gearing up for it to be. “I like your costume. Cute makeup.”

Relieved, you tell her, “I love yours. That dress is killer.” 

The men exchange greetings and you can’t help but think that the husband, John, looks incredibly pleased with himself as he shakes Harry's hand. It’s not necessarily a mean spirited face of smugness, more of a prideful ‘I won’ sort of look. If only John knew that Harry, as he once told you, later felt relieved after Lucy broke up with him. He was rushing into things with her because he was scared his time was running out to find someone. 

“Congratulations on getting married by the way. This is my girlfriend,” Harry proudly introduces you, giving your name as his brown eyes meet yours fondly. “Her roommate, Vanessa, and Vanessa’s boyfriend Charles.” 

After pleasantries and a round of drinks, Lucy fills Harry in that she took over a senior position at her job and John’s dipping his toe into other areas of the theater business with some minor success. Apparently he was once a failing actor too. At the mention of the theater business, John and Vanessa immediately get to talking. Eventually John brings up the new play he’s going to try his hand at directing, which is currently casting, and he tells Vanessa that she’d be great for the lead part. Charles is ever the supportive beau, and John gives Vanessa his info to set up an audition. 

Luckily, Vanessa’s excitement about the offer is enough of a distraction that no one bothers to ask you what you do for a living. You’ve managed to skirt around the question all night, but it’s getting to be exhausting to keep avoiding answering it. 

When Harry leaves to go to the bathroom and speak to Peter for a moment, you’re suddenly left talking to Lucy by yourself while the others grab some finger food. Some of it is even shaped like actual fingers. 

Lucy seems like a nice enough girl around your age. When she initially walked over, you had the misplaced impression that she was going to be a bitch. But, she’s not. It actually makes you feel good to know that one of Harry’s exes is a decent enough person, and her husband seems like a good guy too.

Lucy smiles at you genuinely again and says, "Congratulations are in order for you as well, I think." 

You choke a little on your drink, eyeing her. “Congratulations? For what?”

She just smiles even more, letting the striped black and orange straw of her drink stay briefly nestled in her white teeth. “For you and Harry. You’re who he’s been waiting for. I can see it.” 

You’re cautious as you ask, “What do you mean by that?”

Shrugging as if it’s the most simple explanation in the world, Lucy tells you, “When Harry and I dated last year, all he wanted to do was fall in love. I couldn’t be that for him. But just seeing the two of you a little bit here tonight, it’s quite obvious that you’re the one for him. He loves you, even if he can’t see it yet.”

You’re so taken aback by that, and the substances in your system allow you to blurt out the truth to this stranger. Something about her aura is very inviting. “He warned me when we started dating that he thinks he's incapable of feeling love.”

Lucy chuckles, shaking her head. “He said that to me too. I told him he was wrong. I’m a professional matchmaker and I’ve married the love of my life. I like to think that I know what I’m talking about when it comes to love. He just needs to realize that’s what he’s feeling. And you need to let go of whatever it is that’s holding you back.”

“I-,” you’re stunned. How does she know something is holding you back? 

Damn this observant woman for blindsiding you, just as Harry is coming back to wrap his arm around your waist and nuzzle his broad nose into your neck. 

“Mm, I missed you, sweetheart,” he says, voice loose. “So glad you’re here with me tonight, baby.”

Lucy just sends you another knowing glance, before moving to slide up next to her superhero husband with a delicate hand on his forearm. John looks down at his wife with so much raw emotion, like when he looks at her it still takes his breath away every single time. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone make that kind of a face in real life. Maybe Lucy does know a thing or two about love. 

“Someone’s drunk,” you murmur, nuzzling Harry back a little. More of the skeleton makeup has to have rubbed off on him by now, and you could care less. 

He shakes his head against you, warm body pressing into you from behind. “You caught me, I’m a little drunk. But I’m being serious. The shit going on at work is miserable. I can’t have you around too much because you’re a distraction. When you’re around I just want to give the practice over to Peter and never think about work again. But just know, I think about you every time I have a moment to spare and I want things to go back to how they were when we started dating as soon as these fuckers are satisfied.”

You can’t help but think that once you tell him your secret and, as Lucy said, let go of what’s been holding you back, that things will never go back to the way they were again. All you can do is hope for the inevitable change to be a positive one. 

*****

Later, late enough in the night for it to actually be November 1st, you’re seated on one of the big leather couches in the sitting room. Your body is exhausted from dancing, drinking, and eating far too much, and you’re very much ready to go to sleep. You ripped the space buns out an hour ago, so your hair is fluffed out and wild from a drunken Harry constantly having his thick fingers tangled in it. 

Vanessa and Charles are on the verge of passing out on the loveseat to the left, and Peter and Charlotte are seated on the other couch directly across from you. Most of the guests have gone home for the night, and the only truly sober person left in the house is the pregnant woman. She's not long for the waking world though, clearly falling asleep against the armrest as her husband rubs her bare, swollen feet. She’s still dressed like a teenager from 2007 and her husband, wired from some sort of extra curricular stimulant he’s clearly on, still looks like he’s on the track team. It’s strange how you can see the resemblance, but he also looks nothing like Harry to you.

Similarly, you’re sitting up against one armrest of the couch you’re on and Harry is laying stretched out across the rest of it. His head is in your lap, and the man is fast asleep while you stroke his forehead with delicate fingertips. He got far more intoxicated than you did tonight, most likely because he’s been so stressed. He passed out shortly after his head hit your thighs. 

“He really cares about you,” Peter says quietly but alertly, looking at Harry for a long moment and then he’s looking at you. “I can honestly tell you that I’ve never seen him like this before. Ever since he met you he's been like a different man. I mean that in a good way.”

Your chest swells, feeling comfortable enough in your loosened inhibitions to be honest with the younger Castillo. Should the older one wake up and hear you, then let him hear what your heart has to say. It’s likely he won’t be remembering this part of the night anyway. “He’s been really good for me. I like who I am when I’m with your brother. I know we haven’t been together long, but I care about him a lot too.”

“I can see that,” Peter smiles, glancing down at his dozing wife for a moment. “I knew I loved Charlotte after that first date through the matchmaking service. It took time to figure out how to navigate that, though. Just be patient with him when he’s stubborn. I know he thinks he’s destined to never be in love or some shit, but I also know he’s a fool for that.” 

Christ, twice in one night a virtual stranger has filled your head with the notion that Harry might actually love you back. You’ve got to tell Harry about being a camgirl soon or you’re going to fall apart. Keeping up the charade isn’t working anymore, especially if the possibility for real love with Harry is on the line. 

No, Peter. I’m the fool, you think bitterly. 

“Just so long as he can be patient with me too,” you say, feeling your old friend guilt rear its ugly head once more. “I can be stubborn, and I’m definitely not perfect.”

Laughing, Peter shakes his head as if remembering a moment of Harry in the past. “Neither is he, trust me. But he’s always been a good big brother, even when I was a little shithead. When he cares about someone he’s all in. Good and bad.”

“All in,” you repeat softly, looking down at the man of your dreams, hoping to fuck that you can save this relationship from disaster. He looks so gorgeous when he sleeps, relaxed and soft, and you suddenly know in your heart that you would watch him sleep for the rest of your life if he’d let you. 

“Peter, please take me to bed. I am so ready to be out of these clothes,” Charlotte mumbles sleepily, nestling further into the couch.

“Anything for you, M’lady,” Peter agrees, then he looks over at Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein on the loveseat, then back at you. “I take it you guys need to crash here?”

“He was supposed to have a driver come get us, but I don’t even know if I can get him off this sofa,” you chuckle, brushing Harry’s dark hair with your fingers. It’s still a little hard from all the gel you used earlier.

Harry mumbles something incoherent in response and snuggles his head into your thighs with a little smile. You bend forward to kiss him, and then you look over at Vanessa and Charles who are very quickly fading with drooping heads. 

“How am I as sober as I am?” you marvel, shaking your head. The dab pen is certainly calling.

Peter nods, moving to rise from his seat and help his very pregnant wife to sit back up. “We have plenty of space for all of you. Two guest rooms, one of which is on this floor. If you want I can help you get him into bed at least. The rest of it is on you.”

“Harry, baby,” you gently soothe, touching his face, “would you like to go to bed?”

“Not horny right now,” Harry mumbles, eyes still closed as he frowns. 

Blushing, you’re ignoring Peter’s laugh from across the room. Vanessa, half coherent herself, also giggles and you just roll your eyes in response to her as you address your drunk boyfriend. “I’m not trying to sleep with you. I’m trying to go to sleep with you. Two totally different things.” 

“Oh. Yeah, sleep ,” Harry says, adding, “that sounds nice.” He attempts to sit up, fails, and then he frowns deeply as he flops back onto your lap. Those brown eyes are still closed, until one suddenly pries open a little to look at you. “I don’t feel so good,” he whines, drawing out your name at the end of it.

You can’t help but smile. “I bet you don’t. I need you to drink some water for me before we get settled." As you say this, you are slowly coaxing him to sit up and this time he’s able to with your gentle assistance. All of his weight is leaning into you, and he starts nuzzling his face into your hair as his arms encircle you. Then he takes a huge sniff, and you realize that he’s inhaling your scent.

“Mm, love you, sweetheart,” Harry slurs, and in that instant everyone in the room freezes. “So pretty and perfect and you always smell so good. I love you.”

Hearing those words fall from his lips, twice in one sitting, makes your entire being fired up. “Harry,” you breathe, eyes misting over with tears. 

Charlotte, standing now with her hands over her large belly, is suddenly wide awake. “Oh my god! He said it! Peter, did you hear that?!”

“He’s drunk,” you immediately deflect, shaking your head. “He’s probably just feeling it a lot.”

Harry frowns, leaning into you and slurring, “I am feeling it a lot. I looove you.”

“Harry, come on man let’s get you to bed,” Peter says, moving over to help his older brother up off the couch. 

Between the two of you, you manage to get Harry down the hall and into the queen sized bed waiting for him in the guest room. It’s just as elegantly decorated as the rest of the lavish house, with a dark green and gold color scheme which you appreciate. Once Harry is securely on the mattress, Peter salutes you and bids you good luck. 

For a few minutes you take a chance on leaving Harry alone, heading to wipe the remaining makeup off in the attached bathroom and then down the hall to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for your poor inebriated man.

Drunk or not, the man who fears he cannot feel love just said that he loves you three times. That’s got your stomach doing acrobatics inside your body.  

By the time you get back to the room Harry’s pants and dress shirt are off and he’s laying face down on the bed, groaning into the mattress in a pair of tight fitted black boxer briefs and a cream colored undershirt. 

“Your butt looks good,” you remark, coming to sit down beside him with one leg tucked under you. Running the fingers of your free hand through his dark hair, you add, “ I can’t believe you got undressed by yourself in this state. Do you think you can drink some water for me?” 

“Do I have to?” He whines, voice muffled. 

Shaking your head, you chuckle softly. “No, but I’d like you to hydrate so you don't get sick in the morning.”

“Already sick,” he groans, turning his head so that he can breathe properly again if you had to guess. “I threw up when you were in the kitchen.”

You lay a hand on his forehead, feeling how damp his face is. He also looks pale, so he definitely threw up. “That’s good, then. That means you needed to. Did it help?”

“A little. Room is kind of spinning now, though. Fuck, why did I do this to myself?”

“You had a good time, right? That’s all that matters.” The glass clinks against a ceramic coaster as you set it down. “Here, I’m putting it on the nightstand. It’s right there if you want to take a sip. I’ll let you sleep.” 

Harry struggles, rolling his head over to face you. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Smiling, you lean down to kiss his temple. “I’m glad I’m here too. I wonder if you’re going to remember any of this in the morning.”

His eyes widen comically. “Why? Did I do something embarrassing?"

“Nothing bad, no. If you meant what you said it’s a good thing. We’ll need to talk in the morning. I know you wanted to wait until that client was out of your hair, but what I need to tell you can’t wait any longer. Not now, though. You’re drunk and I’m exhausted. We can go to your place or something and talk when you’re feeling better.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, eyes squeezing shut. “When will the spinning stoooop , ugh.”

“When you sleep. Sleep, baby.” Kissing his temple once more, you move to get up from the bed and throw open the window. A chill immediately enters the room, but it feels good on your flared body as the dark curtains billow around you. 

Harry makes a happy little noise in the bed, mumbling, “that feels nice,” as he curls himself up and pulls a blanket over his bottom half.

A smile creeps up your lips, even though there's a pit in your stomach. This is either going to go very well or very bad. It’s hard to imagine an in-between. All you know is that it’s time, and that in itself feels good in a scary ‘uncertain of the future’ kind of way. Maybe this can be the catalyst for something really great between you. An elevated understanding of each other, and of the relationship. 

Pulling the dab pen out from your bra, which you subsequently remove from your torso entirely, you take a generous couple of puffs and blow them out of the window. Some of the vapor still gets trapped inside, but you’re pretty sure that at one point Peter was smoking a blunt out on the patio on top of whatever else he was taking for the festivities. If he and Charlotte notice, they probably won’t care. After getting high enough to feel relaxed, you close the window back up and turn off all the lights. 

Climbing into bed next to Harry, you pull the covers over yourself and spoon up behind him. He’s breathing like he’s asleep, and as you close your eyes feeling truly stoned, you hear yourself whispering into the darkness, “I love you too, Harry. But I’m not an author and you deserve to finally know the truth.”

*****

The next morning, you awake to the sounds of Harry vomiting in the bathroom. Silently, you get up from the comfortable bed wishing to Satan himself that you had something besides this silly body suit to wear. The sun is up, and according to the digital clock on the night stand it’s nearly eleven in the morning. On bare feet you pad across the cool wooden floor over to the attached washroom, and just as you push the door open you see Harry’s left hand flush the toilet while his body droops down onto the white and black checkered tiles. 

Kneeling down to touch his shoulder gently, you greet him, “Good morning. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Can I get you anything?”

He nods, eyes closed with a pained expression on his face. “Water.”

Moving to grab the glass from the night before, you’re entering the bathroom again as he’s sitting up. “Here,” you say with a supportive smile, handing it to him. 

“I’m a little embarrassed,” Harry says as he takes a small sip, avoiding your eyes for a moment. 

“Don’t be,” you assure him, sitting down on the tiles in front of him. “You were a very cute drunk. We had fun dancing and getting high. It was reminiscent of the night we met, just a little more intoxicated.”

Shaking his head, he glances at you bashfully. “I haven’t gotten that drunk since Peter’s bachelor party trip.”

Smiling warmly, you say, “See, your brother is just a bad influence. You are absolved of all blame, darling.”

Harry looks you up and down, frowning. “I’m convinced that I embarrassed myself.” 

You dissuade him, “I promise you did not. Do you remember anything?” 

He avoids your gaze again. “I think I do, actually. Did I tell you that I love you? Or was that a dream?”

Your breath hitches, “You did.”

Then his face falls a little. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk enough to do that.”

“Why?” You ask, frowning.

“Because I’m still not sure if I am feeling it or not.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh. So you didn’t mean it?”

Harry reaches out to grab your hand. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m worried that I don’t even know what love truly is. I’ve been thinking about whether or not I feel it with you for weeks. It’s been driving me crazy.”

You squeeze his fingers, hoping. “Well you sounded like you meant it last night. But you were drunk, and I know it could have just been you feeling things in the moment.” 

“I’d certainly like to say it sober next time the urge arises.” He agrees. 

A silence befalls you both, and as Harry sips his water your own urge arises. An urge to spill the beans once and for all.

“Harry, when you’re feeling better I want to talk to you. I know work has you stressed but this can’t wait any longer. Can we go to your apartment later and will you please give me some of your time today?”

Harry nods. He seems to think for a long moment, and then a look of realization falls across his face. “Wait a second, I’m remembering something else. Did you say that you’re not an author last night? I have a very fuzzy memory of you saying that. Everything was dark but I could still hear your voice.”

The thing that used to be your stomach is now a decent sized rock, and it hurts . “Like I said, we can talk when you’re feeling better.”

His face darkens a little, and a deep frown creases his features. He says your name, and the sound of it sends a chill through you. “I need to know what that was about. Why did you say that?”

Why are you so very very very stupid? “Fuck . I shouldn’t have said that last night, okay? I thought you were asleep and I was just affirming out loud that I was ready to talk to you. But this is not the place or time. You’re hungover and we’re on the floor in your brother’s guest bathroom. Someone can probably hear us.”

Harry scowls, which makes your blood run cold. His voice raises, but you wouldn’t call it yelling. “I don’t give a fuck where we are, or if anyone can hear, or if my head is pounding. Which it is, by the way. What the fuck does that mean? Are you a fucking author or not?”

Although you feel you have no right to really, you become a little defensive against the tone he’s using with you. You’re the one that lied. He should be allowed to sound pissed, but it scares you nonetheless. “It means I’m not an author, Harry. At least not in the sense that it makes me any money. I also told you that I loved you back last night, did you hear me say that?”

Harry just glosses over that last part completely, which edges the chisel closer to your heart. His voice goes from sounding big and angry, to very small and scared all in an instant. “Have you… Have you seriously been lying to me?”

His brown eyes look so hurt that you cannot hold contact with them, so your own eyes land on the tiled floor for a second before you force yourself to look at him again. You’ve got to be strong. You promised yourself that you would be strong. He was always going to get upset about this, it’s a matter of how you both recover now. “I have, but I promise you that I can explain myself. Will you allow me to do that in a better setting than this?”

He shakes his head, holding fingers to his temples, “No. I need to know what the fuck is going on. Fuck , my head really is pounding.” 

“Harry, I really don’t want to do this here. Or while you’re hungover.”

Just then there’s a knock at the bathroom door which connects to the hallway, and you can hear Vanessa’s voice. “Hey, just checking in. Charlotte said it sounded like someone was yelling. Are you guys okay in there?”

“Yeah, we’re fine! Privacy, please!” You shout, pinching the bridge of your nose. Then you lower your voice to Harry. “This is what I’m talking about. We cannot do this here.”

He shakes his head, getting louder almost to spite you. As if he truly doesn’t care who hears. “Fuck that, dammit! Please tell me what the fuck is going on! I feel so fucking betrayed. Why did you lie to me?”

Head hanging in shame, you give him your only and lamest excuse, “When we met I assumed we would be a one night stand. I never expected things to go this far.”

Harry scoffs, “So why didn’t you tell the truth once it was more than a one night stand? You spent that entire weekend at my house. There were so many opportunities to tell me. But, no, it seems like you just used me. Is that all this is to you? Are you using me?”

Your emotions start to bubble over, voice finally raising a little too. Vanessa is surely outside of the room listening, if not all of them. But Harry doesn’t seem to care, so neither will you. “I didn’t tell you because of this! Because I was terrified that you would look at me or treat me differently. You rightly assumed that I was nouveau riche, and I felt like I needed to come up with something on the spot that night. I was afraid that if I told you how I earn my money then you wouldn’t like me anymore and we wouldn’t have ended up spending that beautiful weekend together. After that weekend I couldn’t face telling you because I didn’t want to lose you.” 

His face goes even whiter, withering almost. “Jesus Christ… are you a hooker or something?”

You sigh, frustration and hurt filling you. “I’m not a prostitute, Harry. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re starting to get up after hearing him say that, feeling like you’re the one who needs to vomit. Moving into the bedroom, you throw a hand up. “Hang on, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I wasn’t trying to do this right now, Harry. Fuck I had this whole thing planned where I was going to have you stand in the kitchen at your place. I was going to pull my laptop out on the island and show you everything.”

Harry’s getting to his feet as well, wobbling as he shakes his head in disbelief. “There is no fucking way that this is happening. Are you a porn actress, then?”

You move to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as you look up at him. “I am a sex worker, but I don’t fuck anybody. We’ve been exclusive this whole time. I’m an online escort, Harry. So it’s like a porn actress but I perform by myself, and I perform live. My clients can request things that they want to see me do. I was going to show you my site and my persona. I wanted to gently explain everything to you. I have some notes taken down back at my apartment with specific points I wanted to make.”

He looms over you, brow furrowed in frustration. It hurts so bad to see him look at you like that. “What points? That you’re a liar and a deceiver? I need you to be fucking honest with me if you are capable of honesty. Are you dating me because you eventually want to marry me for my money? Do you fucking care about me at all?” After asking that, he begins pacing frantically in front of you.

Hot tears instantly fill your eyes, falling freely. “Wow. You know, I was expecting the worst thing you might do when I told you this is call me a whore. And I’ve been dreading that moment for two months. But, no, you accusing me of being in this relationship for the money feels ten times worse than being called a whore. I might actually prefer that.”

His brow unfurrows slightly, rising in surprise. His feet stop moving. “So this has nothing to do with how much money I make?”

Now you’re simply just sobbing, feeling completely foolish and ashamed for letting things get to this point. 

“No, god dammit! And it never once has! I am independently well off. I do not need, nor do I want a man simply because he has the money to take care of me. I’m not looking for a sugar daddy to save me from my fucked up life of endless bad choices. My job was not a bad choice, it was my choice. Believe it or not, I actually love my job. It’s fun, it makes me feel good about myself, and I make a ridiculous amount of money doing it. When I started my cam site, it was because I was broke and I was sick and tired of being turned away from acting jobs just because my ass is three sizes bigger than Vanessa’s. Three sizes! No one wanted me for anything other than frumpy background roles. Most of the time the rejection was a mean sounding comment about not fitting the ‘physical criteria.’ Do you know how soul crushing that was after years of it?”

You pause for a moment, and Harry seems to be considering something internally. But he doesn’t say anything, so you continue, “Then one month when the bar I used to work at was slow and I was desperate for rent money, a friend of mine suggested I try being a camgirl.”

“Was it Vanessa?” Harry asks. 

You give a single shake of the head. “No, but she knows about this and she’s very supportive. Of the cam site, not of me lying to you. She’s been getting on to me about how wrong that was from the very beginning. Vanessa is on your side, Harry.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I don’t appreciate knowing that she was aware of this the whole time, but knowing she was in my corner actually makes me feel a little better.”

“She thinks you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and scolds me constantly about how I’m actively fucking this up,” you tell him somewhat bitterly, adding, “and I should have listened to her instead of being a coward.”

Harry doesn’t speak for a long moment, looking out at the little courtyard behind the house through the open window. Your gaze follows his, and you can’t help but think that November already looks gray and chilly. Hopefully it’s not a sign of bleak days ahead. Hopefully you can still save this before the day is through.

His voice is low, calmer than before. “What happened when you tried the cam site for the first time?”

You take a shaky breath and let everything go. Everything you’ve been trying to find the words to explain for two months just comes pouring out of you. “I made three hundred dollars in one sitting. Just to pretend a little bit and make some lonely person feel good about themselves for an hour. All I ever remember from that first session was the client telling me over and over and over that I had the perfect body. The kind of body people want to fuck.”

You stop for a moment, giving a laugh laced with cynicism. “Imagine how good that felt after years of working out and eating right and stressing about my weight before an audition that I knew I was never going to land anyway. After years of feeling self conscious, I could suddenly just be myself and make more money than I knew how to spend. Imagine how I felt to have finally found an acting gig that involved my clients telling me that my body was the most perfect thing in the world. Paying hundreds of dollars to see my body do things just for them, anything within reason, instead of getting rejected for not having an ideal body type for the general public. Being a camgirl taught me how to value my appearance as is. It makes me feel powerful and sexy, and it allows for me to finally be the materialistic boujee bitch I’ve always wanted to be. Do you know how good it feels to buy myself designer clothes and not have to worry how I’ll make rent? And to have the confidence to buy the kind of form fitting, stylish clothing that used to intimidate me? Being able to do that independently is the best feeling in the world.” 

Harry’s looking at you so seriously now, his wet brown eyes boring into yours. He never interrupts, and so you keep going. 

“So, no, I am not dating you because I want your money. I am dating you because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. You make me laugh and you know how to dance to good music. You’ve got excellent taste in everything. But you’re also so smart that it’s intimidating. It still shocks me every day that I’m with someone who can run an entire company like you do. You’re also more down to Earth than one would expect. You’re sweet and kind, and sex with you is literally the best I’ve ever had. I act for my clients. I don’t act for you. What we share physically and emotionally is one hundred percent real, and it always has been. For me at least.” 

His shoulders surprisingly soften after your long speech. Harry sits down beside you on the bed, still looking miserably hungover and hurt, but he sits next to you. That feels like a step in the right direction. His own eyes are welling with tears, and once he blinks they begin to fall. “I just can’t believe you’ve been lying to me for two months. That really hurts. It hurts more than I think I can really describe. I want to see it for myself, but I don’t think that your career bothers me. It’s certainly shocking, but lying is what I have a real problem with. It makes me worried that I could never trust you again after this.”

Nodding, you can only speak from the heart. “And that’s valid. But I never intended to hurt you. I love you, Harry. I think you could be the love of my life, honestly.” 

He looks pained as he says, “People aren’t supposed to lie to the love of their life. Partners don’t lie to each other.” 

You wince. “I promise you that everything else I’ve ever told you is completely true. Will you please allow me to try and explain myself? Explain why it felt like I couldn’t be honest with you at first?”

“Yes,” Harry breathes deeply, clearly trying not to cry. To your surprise, he reaches over and grabs your hand. “Please try to help me understand.”

“You told me that you wanted to earn my trust and, honestly, I did need to trust you before you could know about any of this. I know I lied and I know that was wrong, which means I’ve compromised your trust in me . I have been making myself sick over that fact for weeks. But what I once said to you about my profession being a private part of me was true. Do you expect me to tell every person I meet that I show my body online for money? Would you, if you were in my position?" 

“I honestly don’t know how to answer that,” Harry says, his body language and tone much calmer than before. “But I want to understand.”

You’re taking a deep breath, steading yourself for another long rant. “When we met you felt like a dream come true and I let fear of rejection cause me to behave shamefully. I should have always been honest with you from the start. That first night together should have been when I told you this, when you first asked me what I do for a living. Out on the terrace when we were smoking together and catching our spark. But we were strangers that night, and the camgirl thing has actually scared a few potential lovers off in the past. I didn’t know you and you didn’t know me, and you’re not just some guy I met at a bar. You are Harry fucking Castillo. You’re an entirely different breed of man. I couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth to a very upper class millionaire who for some odd reason felt interested in me. Was I supposed to tell you that I paid for those Jimmy Choos with what I earned doing some extra kinky bondage stuff in a session? Immediately after we just met? I was terrified, and I’ve asked myself time and time again if you would have still spent that weekend with me if you had known what I really do for a living.”

Harry seems to consider this for a long moment. “I want to say that I would have because you seemed worth the risk, but I can’t speak for something that didn't actually happen.”

That stings a little but you press on, “The only lie I ever told you was that I was a smut author, which isn’t a complete lie. I have a few short stories published in some fetish magazines. I’d let you read those if you’re interested. I still work in the field of sexual fantasy, just in a different format than you were led to believe. Whenever I told you I was working, you just assumed that meant writing and I never corrected you. My private office in the apartment is actually my soundproof studio where I record my sessions. For the sake of transparency, I would like to show it to you if you’ll let me share this part of myself with you. If you can find a way to forgive me for this, that is.”

Harry thinks, and then a look of realization washes over his features. Some of the normal color has returned to his face. “When you got me off on FaceTime last week, was that similar to what you do?”

You smile, hopeful. “Yes, and I wasn’t faking anything for you like I do for my clients. That was the real me. You always get the real me.” 

Harry seems to mull this over for a long time, and then he stands, holding his hand out to you. Tentatively, you take it and he pulls you up into a hug. After a moment’s hesitation you’re wrapping your arms around him. Part of you is worried that he’ll turn on you any moment, but you’ve got to continue trusting him.

Harry sighs into you before pulling apart enough to look you right in the eyes. “I’m not going to tell you this didn’t shock me or hurt me. But I believe I can forgive you for this if you give me time to process everything. I also ask that you forgive me for not being completely honest with you as well. If we’re going to make this work I want us to be honest from here on out. I’m not perfect. I’ve been hiding things from you too.”

Lurching, your stomach drops. “What are you talking about? What have you been keeping from me, Harry? Are you fucking married or something?”

He shakes his head profusely, looking mortified. “No! I’m not married!”

Relieved, your body relaxes. “What have you been hiding, then?”

Harry points down to the scars on his legs, the ones he told you were from a childhood bicycle accident. “I’ve been lying to you about these scars.” 

Your eyes widen, brow rising. “What about them?”

Harry is suddenly so embarrassed sounding. “Everything you know about me is true except for one thing. You have no idea how much I relate to you about feeling rejected for your natural body. I think I can understand why what you do makes you feel good about yourself. Powerful, you said? My true height isn’t supposed to be six feet.” 

Now you’re just confused, and Harry is clearly having a hard time holding your gaze. You stay silent, so he keeps going. 

“My natural height is actually five foot six. I had an expensive, painful form of plastic surgery to gain six inches to my height when I was a young man. They broke my legs and forced the bones to heal in a way which forces them to gradually grow longer. It was intense and awful, but my life changed forever after that. Men suddenly respected me and women finally wanted me. So believe me, I do at least partially understand you. I feel powerful at this height. At five six I felt insignificant and small. It was the best two hundred thousand I’ve ever spent.”

“Holy fuck, Harry,” you exclaim, mouth dropping open.

“I know. Embarrassing, right?” He asks shyly.

You laugh, relieved. “No, it’s not embarrassing at all. And I forgive you for not telling me. I just think we are both so fucked up that we might actually be perfect for each other.” 

Harry laughs too, “I still need time to process this, and tylenol, but I think you might actually be right about that.”

“So you really think you could forgive me?”

“I’d like to try. You’re worth the attempt, at least.”

*****

After a greasy fast food breakfast sandwich to set Harry’s stomach straight, which Charlotte had the foresight to order both to satiate her pregnancy cravings and for the poor hungover souls who would surely need them, the elder Castillo finally feels slightly more alive. After a puff off of your dab pen, he feels somewhat like a person again. The events of the morning seem like a hangover fever dream, but he knows that all of it really happened. 

It’s very obvious that everyone who’d been awake at Peter’s house, which was thankfully only just Vanessa and Charlotte at the time, are painfully aware of every word which was just said in the downstairs guest room. 

Upon exiting said room, you’d noted to him that Vanessa had been hiding around the corner and darted away looking awkward after getting caught. When the two of you came around that same corner, Charlotte was sitting at the kitchen table pretending to look at her phone and Vanessa was beside her pretending to thumb through the newspaper. Both women did a piss poor job of making it look convincing. 

You asked to speak to Vanessa privately, so the two girls went to stand out in the small courtyard and speak over coffee. You’ve been out there talking for quite awhile, so all Harry can do is wait and try not to eavesdrop. It’s obvious enough what it’s about. 

Harry watches the steam rise from your cup, and the cloud of breath leaving your mouth every few seconds as you frantically speak and occasionally cry a little. Even still, you look so beautiful to him. Even for that split second where learning you’d lied to him felt like being burned from the inside out, you still looked so beautiful to him. It’s like he simply can’t help it.

As your cheeks gradually grow redder from the cold, or from the emotional turmoil, Harry can’t help but think that the two of you just had your own version of Lucy and John’s infamous fight in the street. Sure, it’d been behind closed doors, but he knows that he hadn’t been keeping his voice down and he knows that he wouldn’t have given a damn if the entire island of Manhattan heard him. Harry Castillo’s passion for you is far too strong for any sense of propriety to matter anymore. 

And that’s when it hits him, flooding his system all at once. He loves you. Harry Castillo fucking loves you, and he actually feels it. He feels it coursing through him like the very blood in his veins. 

Charlotte chooses that moment to pipe up, looking outside at you for a long moment before her eyes land back on her brother-in-law. “Are you planning to forgive her? I won’t tell Peter, or your parents. But I heard everything. This house is old and the walls are thin. If you want my opinion, which I know you didn’t ask for, I think she deserves a second chance. I probably would have done anything to win Peter over when we first met. You Castillo boys are intimidating. Even if you are secretly short kings. And, yes, I know about that. All of your secrets are safe with me, but you owe me one, bro .” She says that last part in the exact same way Peter usually says it, and then she grins at Harry. 

“Charlotte,” Harry says, sipping on his coffee with a small smile, “I’m glad you’re a part of this family.”

*****

“Okay. Are you ready?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay. Fuck. This is terrifying.” 

Both of you showered and rejuvenated, Harry watches as you use one of the keys on the keyring he’s seen you with a dozen times, turning the knob and throwing open the door to the mysterious third bedroom in your apartment. Vanessa graciously agreed to give the two of you the evening alone to sort this out. 

Moving aside to allow him entry, you’re having trouble making eye contact with him for a moment. “Go ahead, you can take a look around and I’ll answer any questions you may have.”

Slowly, Harry sets one foot down into the room. Then the other. Suddenly he’s inside the space, and it’s nothing like what he was expecting. In the center of the room pushed long ways up against the wall, there’s a small four post canopy bed adorned with a sheer black fabric and orange string lights to give the space a gothic fairytale look. The bed itself is made up with a black satin comforter set, various sexually explicit throw pillows strategically placed up against the wall. 

On either side of the bed, the dark purple walls are lined with shelving or hooks to store and display any sort of sex toy or bdsm tool imaginable. You’ve got everything, and you’ve got it sorted by kink or by what hole each device is meant for. He’s a little shocked to see some of the sizes of what’s on the shelf of anal plugs, and he’s also incredibly turned on by it. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Harry says, shaking his head. He looks around the room more, taking in the recording equipment across from the bed. “What name do you go by when you do this?”

You cringe a little, shrugging. “Raven Crowley. Corny, I know, but a goth girl named Raven sells. Every goth kid’s introduction to spooky shit is Edgar Allen Poe, whether they realize it or not. Crowley gains me extra points with the occult nerds. Or the Supernatural nerds. Those are mostly female clients, though.”

Harry nods thoughtfully, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Makes sense to me. You said you wear disguises when you do this?”

You nod, throwing open the closet. There Harry sees a small collection of high quality wigs, either various forms of colorful alternative hair styles or simple, elegant black hairstyles of varying lengths. The wigs are on display across the top storage shelf. Below that hangs a row of color coordinated, sensual and skimpy looking outfits in various fabrics. Under that sits a shoe rack filled with high heels he could never imagine you wearing. Huge chunky platforms, boots with lots of leather and straps. Hanging on the back of the closet door is a jewelry rack, filled with spiked chokers and various other items he doesn’t normally see you wear. All of it is such a contrast to your tasteful and sophisticated wardrobe in the closet of your real bedroom. 

But Harry doesn’t dislike it, and that’s his biggest take away.

“Would it be weird to ask you if I can see you dressed like this?”

You shake your head, smiling. “I was kind of hoping you would want to see. Do you have a preference?”

“Whichever is your favorite,” he says, hoping he sounds supportive. Suddenly, he’s no longer freaked out by any of this, and all at once he does understand why a secret this big was way too intense to share with someone you only just met. This is something one can only share with a person they trust wholeheartedly, and now Harry Castillo just feels honored that he was able to earn that from you in such a short amount of time. 

You coax him out of the room and shut the door, so Harry makes himself comfortable on the couch, taking in the apartment once again. Everything looks the same, and yet he feels like he’s seeing it in a new light. As his eyes scan over your belongings he imagines them commingling with his own belongings back at his place, and Harry comes to the conclusion that he is going to ask you to move in with him when Vanessa moves out. Plans in the back of his mind are already being set in motion.

Realizing that he loves you is it for him. Part of him realizes it’s what he’s been feeling all long, but now that he truly understands it everything is different. There are no questions of if this is going to work. He’s going to make it work, come hell or high water. No matter what happens when you open that door again, he loves you and he’s willing to try to understand anything you throw at him.

No sooner does he think that, and the door to your studio opens. Harry’s up off the couch in an instant. The overhead lights have been dimmed save for the orange string lights, and a purple led streaming up the wall from behind the bed. It gives the room an eerie glow, but he can still see just fine.

“Enter if you dare,” you’re saying in a spooky voice, and Harry realizes that you’re laid out across the bed on your side, head propped up in one hand. Your other arm is draped over your hip. When he gets a good look at you, his breath hitches in his throat.

With dramatic dark eye makeup and black lipstick, you look so different. The wig you chose is jet black, with a short 1920s flapper look to it. On your torso you’re wearing a black latex corset, with a matching miniskirt which barely covers your exposed ass or pussy from view. The material is so tight and shiny. With thigh high stockings and a pair of those chunky black platform heels, it’s almost like it’s not even you. But it is you. It’s hard for him to wrap his head around it. The black choker around your neck looks tight, and watching the leather dig into your neck is making him a little hard. 

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” Harry says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You look so different. Like a dominatrix or something."

You seem so worried, face faltering. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“It’s a good thing. Just getting accustomed to it.” Harry comes to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. When he looks across the room at the camera set up he feels odd, though. “You’re not filming this, right?”

“Of course not!” You seem almost offended, but then you frown. “I guess that’s a fair question though.” 

Harry looks at you, and then he’s taking your hand in his and bringing your knuckles to meet his lips. “You’re gorgeous in anything.”

“You’re just saying that,” you deflect, clearly worried that he’s trying to spare your feelings.

“I love you,” Harry says, meaning every single syllable as it slowly dances off the end of his tongue. 

“You mean it this time?” You ask, eyes welling with tears for the second time today.

“I meant it last night too, I just didn’t know it yet. But I do. I love you. I finally understand how this feels,” he laughs, and his entire body is at ease. Saying it feels so good. “Maybe I’m just a late bloomer.”

“Maybe you needed a girl who matched your freak,” you say, moving as if you’re lifting up to kiss him. Then you stop just before his lips, and Harry’s wildly disappointed. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to get this ridiculous lipstick all over you.” 

Harry kisses you anyway, and his body slowly melts into yours. When he lifts up you laugh, wiping at his lips with your thumb. He’s laughing too, “What? No good?”

“Just odd,” you remark, smiling. 

Harry looks at the wall of handcuffs and various switches. “So are you actually into this stuff or is it all a performance?”

“Which part?”

“Bondage? Being tied up and spanked? How do you perform with handcuffs on if this is something you do by yourself?”

“Vanessa usually helps with my more complicated bondage sessions. Off camera, of course. To answer your other question: I kind of like a little bit of everything. So doing whatever the client wants is fun because I can mix things up for myself. I do enjoy being tied up, but I also enjoy being the one to do the tying. I’m not as serious about kinks as some people are. Sex is just fun for me in all its forms.”

Something in Harry’s belly flares wildly at that, and his cock twitches. The slight hard on he’s been getting is now a full erection inside his sweatpants. His mouth feels dry as he tries to speak. “Um, would you be interested in tying me up?”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion, but then your brow furrows. “Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to try any of this because you want to impress me. I love our sex life and I don’t need any of this to be a part of it unless it’s really what you want. I love you just as you are, Harry.”

He kisses you again, and then he gets up from the bed and moves over to the items hanging from hooks on the wall. He picks out two pairs of handcuffs, normal metal ones, and then he picks out a length of black rope. For a split second he almost doesn’t grab it, worried he’s being too brazen, but then he’s pulling a ball gag down from the wall as well. The classic looking model with black leather straps and a red rubber ball in the center. 

“I love you too, and I would like for you to tie me up, please.”

*****

“Hey Van, how’s jolly old England treating you?” You’re talking into the phone, looking down at your best friend through a poorly connected video call. Harry comes up behind you, arms encircling your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder to also look into the phone. 

You’re in the living room of Harry’s apartment, backlit by the soft warm glow of the real pine tree the two of you picked out at a lot and decorated two weeks ago. Soft, jazzy instrumental versions of classic holiday songs are playing in the background.  

“Merry Christmas, Vanessa,” Harry says, his handsome voice rumbling in your ear. “Where’s Charles?”

“Right here, mate,” the younger man says, head dipping into view for a moment, waving. “Guess what?” Vanessa asks, grinning like a lunatic.

Uh-oh. You smile innocently, acting none the wiser. “What, Van?” Get ready for it, here it comes.  

“I’m getting MARRIED!” She shrieks, and when she tries to move her hand into the camera’s view, the screen freezes. 

You shake the phone, as if that will help the connection somehow. “I can’t see the ring, babe. You’re gonna have to send me pics. But I love you and I am so happy for you both!”

“Congratulations,” Harry says, the side of his head nuzzling into yours. 

Vanessa, still frozen, says, “You’re the maid of honor, obviously! And Charles wants me to move in with him. We’ll have to talk about the apartment when I get back, but I’ll text you! I love you! Bye!” 

The call ends, and you set your phone down on the bar to replace the item in your hand with the glass of a sweet, cinnamony drink Harry made you earlier. He calls it Christmas in a glass. It's certainly delicious, whatever it is. And strong. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, squeezing you from behind. Your free hand lifts up to cup his cheek.

Nodding, you take a sip. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve had over a month to mentally prepare for that. I’ll worry about the apartment shit after Christmas. I’m more worried about meeting your parents tomorrow. I really want them to like me. Especially your mom. Moms of sons are the hardest women to impress.”

Harry chuckles, spinning you around to face him. “If I could manage to get your dad to like me at Thanksgiving, then I think you’ll be just fine with my mom. We’ve been working on your Spanish, so that’ll help.”

The laugh which escapes you is more like a bark. “Are you kidding me? The second my mother googled your estimated net worth, my parents fell madly in love with you. I have to sell myself to your mom the old fashioned way. With charm and wit.”

“Both of which you have in abundance, sweetheart,” Harry grins, kissing you deeply for a moment. Then he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he sways you to the music. It’s White Christmas and, ironically, it looks to be snowing outside.

After Halloween, after everything was finally out in the open between you and Harry, everything about the relationship changed for the better. The two of you have been inseparable from that moment on, evolved as both partners and lovers. 

Harry had to leave New York for a few days in order to smooth things over with that needy client out in New Mexico, and while he was gone you had a new client of your own request a session with you. It didn’t occur to you that the username Señor _Castle78 could possibly be your boyfriend’s attempt to be clever until you started the session and his beautiful face appeared on the screen. You remember how his voice worked you over, saying, “I bet you miss having that sweet little pussy dripping with my cum, don’t you, sweetheart? I bet that you’re completely empty without me there to fill you up. I know all those toys you have are nothing compared to me.”

That is the first and only time you’ve ever had an orgasm on camera for real.

Once he was home from that trip and his job was finally back to normal, Harry then accompanied you to your hometown for Thanksgiving. Introducing him to your parents and sister only made things between you that much more serious. He fucked you quietly in your old bedroom, which still has your band and horror posters from high school all over the walls because your mom can’t let go of the past. What a time machine that felt like, getting felt up like a teenager in the room where you had once been one. You even had to do it on the floor, given that the creaking old mattress was the same one from back then too.

Now you’re getting ready to meet his parents in the morning, and everything feels like it’s headed in the right direction. Ever since you told the truth, you’ve known nothing but peace.

Harry lifts up when the song ends, smiling down at you with so much affection in his soft eyes. He looks so good in a dark green sweater and casual black pants, thick gray socks protecting his feet from the cold wood floors. Your heart swells for him, and then suddenly he's pulling you down the hallway by the hand. 

“What are you doing, baby?” You laugh, letting him pull you easily.

“I’m giving you your Christmas present early,” Harry declares, stopping in front of the door to the spare bedroom. You honestly forgot that this room is even here. He pulls a key out of his pocket, and then he’s unlocking the door. “Hold out your hand,” he commands lightly. 

You comply, and he drops the key into your palm. It’s small and gold, and looks brand new. “I already have a key to the apartment. What is this for?”

He grins, “Open the door and see.” 

You turn the knob and push, and your chest swells as you step inside. “Harry,” you breathe, turning to face him. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Harry looks bashful, hands ringing in front of him. “Do you like it? Did I do a good job matching your aesthetic? I wanted it to look like you picked it all out yourself.”

Spinning around again, you take in the sight before your misty eyes. 

It’s your camgirl studio, but wildly upgraded in several ways. The bed seems to be a true bdsm bed, with sturdy iron bars and places to tie ropes or hook chains. It’s backdropped with an elegant, blood red curtain of velvety fabric. The wall of toys next to the bed puts the one you have at home to shame. There’s even a brand new camera set up, and the closet space is twice as big. 

He left the act of filling the closet up to you, but it doesn’t go unnoticed that inside of it hangs a single red lace one piece with an open crotch and a satin ribbon bow covering the breasts. It’s clearly meant to be unwrapped, leaving your pierced nipples that he loves so much as a little gift to himself. You’re sure you’ll be wearing it before the night is through, along with the red heels on the ground just below it. 

Harry steps in beside you, reaching out to grab for your hand as he looks you in the eyes. “I want you to move in with me. Finish out your lease with Vanessa, but after that please move in. I set this up so you can feel free to carry on with your career for as long as you want to. Make your money and feel independent all you want, but I don’t expect you to pay rent or anything like that. Let me take care of you. Let me make this our home. Let me provide a home for you.”

Tears welling in your eyes, a little sob escapes your throat. “I was kind of secretly hoping that you would ask me to move in when the lease is up, but I wasn’t expecting this. The studio is beautiful.”

He grins devilishly. “Let me say that some of the things in here I did selfishly pick out hoping that we’d also get some personal use out of this room. Not quite like in Fifty Shades of Grey, but our own little place of debauchery. Whatever mood strikes us, whenever.” 

“I mean, this bed seems a little too amazing to just be for sessions,” you say slyly, eyeing him. “I’d be disappointed if we didn’t get any personal use out of it… Maybe even tonight? Or right now?”

“Santa’s still out for the night, there’s still plenty of time to make it onto the naughty list,” Harry agrees, grinning as he moves in to pounce on you. 

*****

Later, when you’re out cold in the normal bed after getting a few hours use out of the ‘fun bed’ as you now call it, Harry leans over and kisses your temple while you sleep. He’s too wired to sleep himself, too excited about the prospect of his future. In a few hours he’ll be introducing you to his parents. He’ll also be surprising you with another Christmas present besides the studio and the offer to move in. Two plane tickets to Paris for New Years Eve. 

He moves gently out of the bed, padding over to his dresser across the dark room. There he slides open the second drawer down where he keeps his socks and underwear. Lifting a folded stack of identical black briefs, he smiles down at the little velvet box which was hidden underneath. He even surrounded it with a few pairs of socks for extra protection. 

Harry sits the boxers on top of the dresser. He doesn’t dare pull the box out of the drawer at the risk of you waking to see him with it. But he reaches in and opens it just a crack, getting a sparkling glimpse of the oval onyx stone elegantly surrounded by smaller diamonds on a band of rose gold. A choice he agonized over for two weeks before he came up with a design which he feels best fits your personality. 

Knowing how girls are, Harry knew better than to propose to you on the same day that your best friend was due to get engaged. So Christmas was off the table. He realized what he wanted to do shortly after Halloween, when the two of you watched When Harry Met Sally at his request one date night. You were curled up to him, bawling your eyes out as Billy Crystal declared his love for Meg Ryan on New Years Eve. That was when it clicked, and he knew in an instant that he was going to propose to you on the very same holiday. 

At the stroke of midnight, in the most romantic city on Earth, Harry Castillo plans to get down on one knee and tell you, “I know this seems soon, but when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

The End

*****

Previous

Masterlist

*****

Taglist: @cheyxfu | @notahappystan

[besnouted]

i may not have many practical skills in life but getting academics on mturk to feel bad about rejecting my work is apparently one of them

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[freaktoru]

DO WHAT YOU WANT WITH ME BABY!

✰ pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader ✰ summary: after several sexless months of a very vanilla marriage, nanami kento learns how his slutty wife actually likes to be fucked. wc; 4.1k ✰ warnings: food play, a tiny bit of ass play, dirty talk, unprotected sex, praise, fingering, pet names, very light bondage, hair pulling, some very sweet after care, nanami is soo addicted to his wife, honestly just pure filth. 18+ MDNI

your sex life with your husband was basically dead—buried so deep, it felt like it might never come back.

i mean, you shouldn't be surprised right? when you got married, everyone warned you it would be this way. “just wait until the honeymoon phase is over”, “wait until work gets in the way”, “wait until you start sleeping in separate beds” they told you. although you thankfully hadn’t made it to the third phase yet, you didn't believe them—at least not at first.

the first few months of your marriage felt purely euphoric—like a drug you just couldn't get enough of. you were bathing in the seemingly never ending marital bliss, convinced that nothing could have come between you and your husband— at least not when the two of you were fucking like animals in heat, absolutely devouring each other no matter where the pair of you were. well, it seems life has a way of being deceiving, doesn't it?

so here you were, only one year into your marriage and somehow, sex had completely fallen off your marriage itinerary. you don’t even know how it happened. your work lives took over, and the honeymoon rush had slowly but surely died out. your daily orgasms slowly turned into weekly orgasms which eventually turned into none. the number of times you and your husband have had sex in the last few months has been a big, fat, zero. your revised daily routine now looked a little like this: wake up, breakfast, work, dinner, sleep. exciting right?

kento was a very busy man—you couldn't blame him. he was always working overtime, always being pushed past his limits by his boss and always coming home completely and utterly exhausted. but that didn't change the stark reality—your marriage had become painfully sexless, and severely depressing. and you’d endured months of this silent, dry torture before you finally stepped up and decided you had had enough.

you and nanami were a picture perfect couple—that much was obvious from just looking at the two of you. you had the perfect wedding, the perfect house and perfect vanilla sex. though, despite its initial merits, clearly it hadn't gotten you very far—not if you found yourself so sexless this early into your marriage.

you couldn't let your marriage go down like this, you simply wouldn't. something had to change; you both knew that. the only question was, who would be the one to fix it first? so, you finally mustered up the courage to tell your husband you were sick and tired of the drought, and you were more than ready to break this invisible wall which had stood between you two for months.

when you told nanami that you wanted him to fuck you nasty, whenever and however he pleased without so much as a warning— naturally, his cock hardened, and nanami had displayed the rarest of his facial expressions: shock. though, despite his obvious shock, he was just as desperate to bridge the painful distance between the two of you.

so, of course he agreed— because nanami kento was not one to deny his beautiful wife.

and then it began—the waiting game. a semblance of hope finally returned as a light in your plain, boring days and the thrill of the unknown had you going absolutely feral. not knowing when and if he was going to fuck you had you living through your day to day life in a constant state of need and arousal. you finally felt yourself getting closer and closer to the light at the end of the tunnel where a long, loving marriage awaited you.

it had only been two days since your conversation when he walked into your shared apartment after work, and saw you standing behind the kitchen island in the tiniest, sluttiest white dress, preparing his favorite after dinner dessert—apple pie. what a perfect, thoughtful wife you were.

you looked up from the recipe book to see him standing in the doorway, looking exhausted and overworked as usual but, also looking remarkably handsome in his clean suit. gosh. he had just walked through the door and already your warm and wet arousal was settling comfortably in your panties.

“hi kento, how was work?” you asked softly, your lips pulled into a light smile.

“tiring” he replied, his voice an octave deeper than normal. he must have worked very hard if he sounded this exhausted, you thought. his bag dropped to the ground with a thud and he took his shoes off followed by his blazer, leaving just his dress shirt and pants on. you watched him intently as he walked over to where you stood behind the kitchen island, rolling up his sleeves and throwing his tie on the marble surface.

you flinched as he wrapped his big arms around your waist, welcoming the warm yet unexpected touch. he nuzzled his stubbly face in the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses along its delicate skin. you let out small, pathetic whimpers, feeling another rush of heat settle in your core. your slick would start dripping through your panties and onto the floor if you didn't fix this soon.

“my dear wife, i didn’t know you were so dirty” he mumbled into the sensitive flesh of your neck, lightly nibbling at it, and leaving a trail of wet kisses down it’s stretch. fuck. why had the two of you ever stopped doing this in the first place?

“w-what do you mean?” you asked breathlessly, already feeling worked up from his minor act of intimacy. he inhaled your sweet vanilla scent—relishing in it, before he spoke up.

“yes kento, i want to be fucked” he started, while slowly snaking his fingers down the side of your dress. “whenever you want, however you want” he finished, mocking you sweetly with your own filthy words from just days ago. he was playing with you, baiting you—and you were falling right into his waiting hands.

his fingers met with your soaked panties as you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, feeling him rub slow, lazy, teasing circles on your clothed clit, leaving you wishing you skipped the panties entirely when you got dressed this morning.

“is that not what you told me just a few days ago, my dear?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, watching you in amusement as you squirmed under his light touch. he’d barely given you anything yet your head was already clouded with arousal, making you literally tremble with need. dirty, dirty girl. “mhmmm” you hummed in response, not bothering to utter any words. not when you were so busy relishing in your husbands sweet proximity—a proximity you hadn’t felt for months.

“if i had known my wife was such a slut—” he said, slowly moving your wet panties aside with two long fingers “maybe we would’ve never had this issue in the first place” he finished, his deep, velvety voice sending little shivers racing across your skin. you closed your eyes, letting out sweet little mewls and whimpers while he toyed with your drenched pussy.

“k-kento” you moaned, desperate for more. it just wasn't enough. after so many celibate months, you were brimming with need, ready to burst at any given moment.

“yes baby? what is it?” his coo was sweet and honeyed. he toyed with you like a doll, teasingly pushing his fingers in and out of you, slowly pushing each and every coherent thought out of your mind, leaving you in a hazy, blur of need.

“ah— i n-need more” you whined pathetically in response, reaching a trembling hand up to the nape of his neck while your knuckles turned white on the other from your desperate grip on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“more what sweetheart? use your words for me” he practically purred in your ear, his voice a soft caress. the bastard knew exactly what he was doing, teasing you like this.

he pressed himself closer against you, removing your dress strap from your shoulder to give himself easier access to your tits. you bit your lip, desperately stifling your moans as he seized a handful of your breast, kneading and teasing the supple flesh, his fingers rolling your nipple with a torturous precision. fuck him.

"p-please kento, want you t-to make me feel g-good" you let out, voice shallow and breathy. your whines and moans were music to his ears, and he vowed they would be the only sound he ever craved to hear again.

you let yourself surrender to the waves of pleasure that coursed through your body as nanami pumped two of his thick, long fingers in and out of you. god, what a sight you were for him—eyes squeezed shut, rosy-cheeked and completely breathless. until this moment, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed in these last few sexless, stressful months he had lived through.

you whimpered a desperate plea as your husband pulled his fingers out, leaving you teetering on the edge of release. no, he was not going to give it to you that easy— especially not after this long of a wait. he turned you around to face him, and in one swift motion, lifted you onto the kitchen counter, the cold marble cooling the burning, aroused skin of your thighs. you felt a strong, big hand grab your waist while the other rest on the soft skin of your cheek. he looked at you through lust filled, hazel eyes—admiring his irresistible wife.

growing impatient, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. "kento" you breathed against his lips, desperate for more of his attention. no matter how much he gave you, you felt it would never be enough to make up for all the time you missed with your husband.

he kissed you softly, mapping every inch of your mouth with his wet tongue. you flinched, as he caught your lip between his teeth, teasingly biting down and nibbling on it before pulling away and leaving you whining and aching all over again. removing his hand from your cheek, he reached his arm around you and picked up the bottle of whipped cream that stood with the rest of the pie ingredients.

"my dear wife, when was the last time you made me this pie? the day after our wedding?" he chuckled deeply, studying the can in his hands.

"thought you'd like it" you mumbled, embarrassed by his mocking tone. you'd never seen him like this. his expression was one—in all your years of dating and one year of marriage—you've never seen him display. he looked hungry. a hunger that went beyond satisfying his human needs—this hunger looked feral, almost primal and he looked ready to do whatever it took to satisfy it.

nanami took a step back, opening your legs further apart to give him a better view of all your sweetest parts. you watched him flick the cap off the whipped cream can, buzzing with impatience as you waited for his next move. a strong hand pushed the fabric of your skimpy linen dress up to your waist, and you almost jumped when he sprayed some on your leg.

"ah- kento, what are you doing?" you gasped, looking down at your bare thigh, where a cute little heart of whipped cream was now drawn.

"apologizing to my sweet wife" he muttered, placing the can back down on the counter. he leaned his head down to your thigh, one of your hands instantly tangling itself in his hair. that's right. this is how nanami kento would apologize for all your missed orgasms—for unknowingly denying his wife.

his tongue met with your leg and he began slowly dragging it up and down the skin of your thigh, licking up all the cream that sat in the shape of a heart. a soft moan escaped your parted lips, and you tugged on his hair to pull his head up despite him not being finished.

"dear husband, when did you become so dirty?" you echoed his earlier words right back at him, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you locked eyes with his ravenous gaze. there it was, that hunger— that pure look of desire which you hoped would never disappear from his eyes. marriage was hard but in this moment you were both convinced that doing this every night, would make it feel effortless. nanami only smirked lightly before diving his head back down to meet your trembling thigh. that's right, he had you trembling with need—that's how desperate you were for his touch.

strong hands held your thigh down as he finished licking the heart of whipped cream on your leg. this was an interesting way to apologize to say the least. he lifted himself up, locking eyes with you as he slowly licked the last traces of cream from his lips. holy fuck, you almost came from the sight alone.

moving his hands, he pulled your dress over your head, leaving you in just your skimpy, soaked, panties. "so beautiful" he rasped, drinking you in with just his gaze while grabbing the can and getting to work on your tits. you giggled, watching him spray two hearts of whipped cream, one around each of your nipples.

"baby you- ah" the words died on your lips as he began licking the cream, finishing off with a light nibble that had your toes curling from pleasure. with a groan, he worked his way to the other one, sending chills down your spine and whimpers past your lips. one thing was for sure—nanami knew exactly what he was doing. and he wasn't going to stop.

"please" you whined desperately— impatiently. nanami was holding you on the brink of release, dangling your orgasm right in front of you before ripping it right back when you were about to finish. it was fucking frustrating.

so many nights, while nanami stayed late at work, you lay in your shared bed, desperate and aching, your fingers working tirelessly—trying, and failing, to replicate the feeling of his. little did you know that your dear husband spent his time in similar ways. in the late hours of the night while you were soundly asleep, he stood in the giant two person shower of your shared bathroom, hand wrapped around his veiny cock, warm water streaming down his body, pumping himself endlessly. he tried, he really tried. but nothing—nothing could compare to the addictive pleasure that came from your warm, tight walls clenching around his cock or the heavenly feeling of your soft, wet lips wrapping him so sweetly. yes, it was safe to say you were both very desperate and very frustrated.

"you wanted it nasty baby, that's exactly how i'll give it to you" he groaned in your ear moments before you were flipped face down onto the counter, toes barely touching the floor. you had awakened something inside him, and now that you'd gotten a taste of this nanami, you never wanted to go back.

you craned your neck to look back at him, watching him unbutton his now crumpled white dress shirt. he met your gaze, smiling at you while he reached beside you to grab his tie. you had never reacted to your husband this viscerally before. just the mere sight of him was intoxicating, leaving your head light and hazy, as if you were drunk on his presence alone.

he moved your hands behind your back, crossing them over each other before binding them together with his tie. a light moan escaped you, and you wiggled your hands, getting a feel for the restraint.

"spread your legs" he ordered, his suddenly stern and commanding voice only fueling the desperate throb between your thighs. you obeyed, stepping your toes further apart to allow him to stand between your legs.

you'd never thought you'd be this pliable, this eager to please. but here you were, pushed against the marble counter, wrists tied and ready to fulfill any of his wishes and demands—no matter how filthy. nanami held a dangerous level of control over you and your body, and the thought of wanting it any other way terrified you. surely this is what addiction felt like.

you flipped your head over to the other side, enjoying the cooling feeling of the marble against your burning cheek while you watched him pick up his handy whipped cream once again. guess he wasn't done with that huh.

"kento" you whined, indulging in the slow, sweet pleasure but impatiently needing more than just the teasing he was giving you. it wasn't fair. you had waited long enough.

"ah ah, so impatient, my dear wife" he clicked his tongue, grabbing hold of your wrists. you shuddered slightly when you felt the cold whipped cream meet with your tight holes. oh. he placed the can down, and got on his knees, still holding your bound wrists tightly with one hand and squishing the flesh of your soft thighs with the other. he dragged his tongue up all the way from your clit to your ass, licking up the string of cream he had drawn on you just moments before.

god, this man was filthy. his tongue lingered around your rear entrance, licking playful circles around it and prodding it with his tongue. the initially foreign feeling slowly grew on you, shooting warm pulses of pleasure through every vein in your body and deep into your aching core.

he dragged his tongue away from your tight ring, lapping up the last bits of cream left around your drenched cunt. you clenched your fists, desperate to hold something—anything to help you cope with the overwhelming pleasure you felt.

"kento— e-enough, i need you inside me" you uttered, unable to contain your restless, writhing need for him any longer.

"fine, if my beautiful wife so desires" he replied lazily, letting out a low laugh. you heard him unbuckle his belt, dropping it to the ground while he unzipped his pants. finally.

"my dirty, filthy wife" he muttered, idly pumping his hard, veiny cock with one hand. before you could protest, his fat, leaking tip found itself at your seeping entrance, prodding the wet flesh around it. you heard him suck in a sharp breath, a low hiss slipping from his lips as he pushed into you slowly, stretching you so wide that your eyes fluttered to the back of your head.

"nngh- ah" you moaned at the feeling of his tip reaching your cervix. he was sheathed inside you, waiting for your quivering body to adjust to his thick length. nanami was huge—there was no denying it. no matter how many times you had taken his cock, it was always an adjustment for you.

wiggling your hips, you tried to get as comfortable as you could on the hard, white marble countertop while he started slowly moving his cock in and out of you. "i-i haven't ah-adjusted" you whined, needing more time to get used to him. after all, the months of fucking yourself with your small fingers were nothing compared to your husbands cock.

but nanami only said, "you can take it" whilst speeding up to an almost frantic pace. you felt like you were going to fucking break. but don't say you didn't ask for this. you exposed your most vulnerable self to your husband just days before, begging to be treated like this. so yeah, you asked for it. and he was only doing what his wife desired.

nanami began to question his sanity. he never cracked under pressure, no matter the circumstance, but he felt his once strong grasp on his self control now slipping through his fingers. yup. this felt almost too good to be real—like he was either high on the most potent drug or finally losing his damn mind. he couldn't recall the last time he'd ever felt like this—not even during all the other times you had sex. you just felt that good in this moment.

each thrust had you crying out and clenching around him tighter and tighter—reassuring you that this marriage could be saved, that your sex life was not dead forever. your mind was swimming in pleasure and pain, the head of his cock kissed your cervix so roughly yet so sweetly. you silently said your final goodbyes to the sweet, innocent, vanilla versions of yourselves, and welcomed this new beginning for your marriage. you wanted this version of nanami for the rest of your life.

he fisted a handful of your hair, quite literally pulling you out of your lustful haze. nanami wrapped the strands around his hand once, securing you in place—not that you had any intention of being anywhere else anyway.

"fuck- baby you feel so fucking good" he growled from behind you, his breaths slowing into heavier, raspier ones. push. pull. push. that's what this fucking felt like. your scalp ached from the strong pull on your hair and your pussy throbbed from how hard he fucked you. your bodies fused together, connecting with each of his slams inside of you.

"nngh k-kento gonna c-cum" you stuttered out. he had you so fucked out on his cock you were barely able to even think, let alone form a sentence. it was fucking pathetic.

"yeah- f-fuck come for me" his voice came out in a ragged breath and his erratic pace began to slow into a more languid, agonizing one. he couldn't help himself—he wanted, no— needed to feel every single muscle along your tight walls clench around his cock. nothing felt better than this.

a desperate cry ripped from your throat as your entire body tensed, the long built up pressure in your core finally snapping free. your breath hitched, and you surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensation, finally unraveling around him. your walls clenched and throbbed, milking his cock with every pulsating wave of pleasure that coursed through your body.

"that's it, good girl" nanami purred behind you, feeling his cock throb deep inside you— the unmistakable sign of his climax finally reaching him. he went still, letting his cum spill out inside of you as he came down from his high. he gently untangled his hand from your hair letting your head drop back down onto the counter top.

your eyes were shut and your body was limp. there was no way that you’d be able to get up and walk around— at least not for a while. you felt your husband finally pull out of you, hearing him buckle his pants back up. warm hands met with your still trembling body, and he gently flipped you over, scooping your body up into his arms. not a single word would come out of you. you were fucking spent.

“my love” he whispered softly, placing you onto the plush bed of your shared bedroom. you looked up at him through half lidded, blurry eyes. “hm?” you hummed out, hoping that was enough of an answer for him.

“let’s take a bath” he said simply and you nodded in response. you could use a warm soothing bath right about now. he stalked into the bathroom and you heard the water turn on. he came out naked moments later, and picked you up off the bed, carrying your limp, exhausted body to the bathroom.

he lowered himself in, and you followed, sitting in between his thighs, his huge frame towering over you from behind. he pushed you lightly to sit up and you obeyed, tilting your head backwards to give him easier access to your hair. he began running his long fingers through the strands, untangling the little knots that resulted from his pulling earlier. you hummed lightly at the feeling, enjoying this small, sweet act of intimacy.

he moved his hands down to your shoulders momentarily, placing light, wet kisses on each one, and a few down the length of your back. “you did so good for me” he whispered sweetly, his gentle praise sending a rush of warmth through you.

god. you loved your husband. he was so caring and so tender, and moments like these made sure to remind you of that. you hoped you’d never have to experience another drought in your marriage like that again and you would do anything to make sure it stayed the way it was in this very moment.

“kento?” you spoke up softly, eyes still closed and head thrown back as he began to lather your hair with your vanilla scented shampoo. “yes my love?” he asked in response, waiting to hear what you mustered up all your remaining strength to say.

“i didn't finish baking the pie" you said, letting out a soft laugh. so much for being thoughtful.

he let out a deeply chuckle in return, recalling how adorable you looked, baking in a cute little white dress. he'd never eat his favorite pie again if it meant sex like that for the rest of his life.

he lowered his mouth to your ear and whispered "it's okay, i already had my favorite dessert"

a/n: holy shit if u made it this far thank you so much for reading. this ended up being wayyyyyy longer than i planned it to be but i had such a good time with this <3

[cherrygirlfriend]

─ FIRST LOVE THEORY ♥︎

...or rafe reuniting with his ex-wife.

♥︎ pairing .ᐟ ex-husband!rafe x married!reader

♥︎ summary .ᐟ reader goes over to her ex-husband's house when she finds out he introduced their son to his new girlfriend. rafe has a better idea for what they could do instead of arguing.

♥︎ warnings/tags .ᐟ smut! MDNI. cheating, unprotected piv, breeding kink. wc: 2.7k

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ first fic on my 3k celebration!!! i hope you guys like it <3 i have to wake up in six hours… 😭

3K MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

there's a theory that claims that men never get over their first love; that they're always going to be thinking about her, dream of her, mumbling her name in their sleep...

and if you wanted to prove said theory wrong, rafe cameron was the wrong person to go to; no matter what the occasion was, he would abandon it all for her if she called; anything for his first love.

you had been dating rafe since sophomore year of high school, starting to go out just days after you moved to the island. your family lived in a small, run-down house on the so-dubbed poor side of the island. even if your family couldn't afford much, they put all the money they had just so you could attend kildare academy.

when you started dating and he finally introduced you to his friends, you could see it in the eyes of every one of rafe's friends; they all looked down on you simply because you didn't come from money. one time while you'd been at a party rafe was hosting, you could hear his friends whisper about you, talking shit. saying how he was probably just dating you because you let him fuck you whenever, or how he pitied you.

that was the first time you two broke up; and a few days after, rafe came knocking at your door with a bouquet of flowers and a well-practiced apology prepared.

after that? you two pretty much became the most notorious on-and-off couple on the whole island. it was like every other week, you and rafe broke up, got back together, and broke up again. one moment, you'd be all over each other; the next moment, you were all over each other in a completely different way. the problem was, as you got older, your situation stayed the same.

you parked your car in front of the house rafe was living in; the bastard had gone and introduced the woman he was dating to your son without asking you, without even saying a word. you slammed your car door closed, your heeled knee-high boots clacking against the concrete.

"rafe!" you shouted, banging the side of your fist against the wooden door, the wreath hung up on the door shaking with the force of your punches "rafe fucking cameron, i need to talk to you!"

rafe pulled opened the door, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, "what the hell do you want now? child support not come through?" the man scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"why the fuck did you introduce some bitch to leo without mentioning it to me?" you pushed him, your ex-husband stumbling backwards, "do you have no common sense? i told you, i don't want you to introduce any of your sluts to him before asking me first."

"you introduced your damn boyfriend to him when i told you not to!"

"rafe, i've told you a million times, will is not my boyfriend; we've been married for a year." you let out an annoyed scoff, "and that's completely different. you told me not to introduce him to a guy i had been with for a year and was getting engaged to, meanwhile i'm telling you not to introduce him to your third girlfriend of the month."

"can you shut the hell up? i'm not some fucking town bicycle." you followed rafe into the living room, watching as your ex-husband poured whiskey into a glass. you watch as he downs the glass, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, continuing to pour more amber liquid into the glass, turning to you, "i'll have you know, sofia and i have been exclusive for three months now."

"well, that's basically as good as marriage when it comes to you." you let out a small scoff, "i don't want you to introduce our son to anyone i don't know, rafe." you grabbed the glass of whiskey from him, downing the liquid, burning as it went down your throat. you slammed the glass onto the tray, pointing a manicured nail at him, your engagement ring and wedding band glimmering under the light. "don't fuck with me. not when it comes to him."

"you're so fuckin' selfish." rafe scoffs, throwing his hands in the air "he's my son too, you have no right to tell me what i can and can't do!"

"i've got a custody agreement that says i do." you narrow your eyes, poking him in the chest, "if you do shit like that again, i'm calling my lawyer."

"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe shook his head in disbelief, a bitter laugh leaving his lips as he brought his face closer to yours, gritting his teeth, "you're gonna try and change our custody agreement because of this? there's no way you're that much of a vindictive bitch."

"you really must not know me," you scoff as you look up at him, your eyes narrowed and your voice low, "because if you did, you'd know that that's exactly how much of a vindictive bitch i am." you stared into each other's eyes, your heavy breaths mingling together. rafe's jaw was clenched, his steely eyes focused on nothing but you.

his lips crashed against yours.

his hands were in your hair, tangled in the strands, tugging on them only to bring you closer to him; his lips were devouring you, a clash of lips, teeth, tongue; and even though you tried to pull away at first, it was like every time he got his hands on you, you melted. every time rafe kissed you, it felt like you were clay and he was molding you into yourself.

your back hit the solid wall behind you, and rafe let out a slight groan when his hands wrapped around under your thighs, and you hopped into his arms, your hands around the back of his neck as rafe held you against the wall. his hands trailed up to cup your ass, the hem of your skirt now all bunched up, your ex gripping the fat of your ass.

rafe carried you into the bedroom you used to share with him like you weighed nothing, dumping you onto the bed and causing your body to bounce on it slightly. grinning up at him, you took your dress off, the blonde looking at your body up and down, cocking his head to the side.

"you wore red?" rafe tsked, referring to the lingerie set you were wearing, a wine-red one, a color you knew rafe loved on you, having ruined many a set while you were together, "you should've just said you wanted to fuck."

you bit your lip when rafe finally took off his shirt, revealing a set of abs you'd caressed, kissed, licked, more times that you could count. his long fingers made work of his belt buckle, swiftly pulling his belt off. he snapped it once before throwing it to the side.

his pants were off, the outline of rafe's hard cock visible through his white calvin kleins. you rubbed your legs together, your nipples hard and straining against your bra. "you gonna come here, or do i need to come and getcha?"

rafe shook his head with a chuckle, and at his words, his body was on yours, grinding against you. a gasp left your lips as you felt his erection against your clothed cunt, and you could feel your arousal starting to form a wet patch in your lacy panties. his lips trailed down your jawline as his hands trailed down the strap of your bra, the man letting out a chuckle against your skin, the words he mumbled against your neck causing vibrations to run down your spine. "let's get this pesky thing off, huh?"

you arched your back off the bed, and rafe's long fingers darted to the clasp of your bra, swiftly unclasping it and throwing it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. within seconds, his lips were on your nipple, licking on the hard bud before his lips wrapped around it, sucking on it in a way that made you to arch into his touch, gasps of pure pleasure leaving your lips.

one of his hands slid into the waistband of your panties, bringing hid middle finger to your clit and pressing on it, making you mewl as your hand found his hair, tugging on it slightly. rafe groaned against your nipple, causing a wave of shivers to run down your spine as his finger lazily rolled around your clit.

"please..." you whined, and rafe let out a small chuckle against your nipple before releasing it with a pop!

his lips started to trail down your body, pressing kisses from between your breasts, down your belly button, continuing all the way until his lips made contact with the waistband of your panties.

"please what?" rafe asked as he started to press kisses on your panty-covered pussy, getting closer and closer to the wet little patch that was now decorating them.

"take them off..." you mewled, your hands grasping the sheets underneath you. rafe pressed a small kiss right over your clit, accompanying it with a teasing lick, before his long fingers finally tightened around the waistband of your panties.

"look at that." rafe huffed in a way that resembled a laugh, and as you looked down, you could see a large patch on the inside of your panties. you scrunched up your nose and looked away, making him let out another chuckle as you hid your face in your hands, "you're so cute when you're embarrassed, baby..." he cooed mockingly, throwing your panties to the side. "there's nothing to be embarrassed about. we both know you get soaked within seconds when it comes to me."

rafe licked a stripe up your slit, making sure to slightly suckle on your clit, a moan leaving your lips, your back arching off the bed you used to share with him. he moved himself up, until his face was over yours. when rafe placed a small, dazing kiss on your lips, you licked your lips, tasting yourself; he always loved doing that; always loved to make it known that only he could have such an effect on you.

the blonde grinned as he tugged his boxers down, gripping the shaft and moving his cock so the tip of it was pressing against your clit, drawing tiiiiny circles of it as if it was another 'funny' game he liked to play with you.

"come on...!" you whined, smacking his shoulders, "i need you..."

"what's wrong, sweetie?" rafe cooed mockingly, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes, "your husband not enough for you?"

your eyes flit to the engagement ring and the wedding band on your ring finger, but the feeling of rafe's cock drawing circles on your needy, throbbing clit, before they looked back into his blue eyes that were mostly overtaken by the black of his pupil.

"please..." you looked at him through your lashes, pouting at rafe. he let out a slight chuckle, moving his shaft down to your entrance, "this what you want?" he asked, pressing a peck on your lips that felt like he was ridiculing you; but your body didn't care; all it cared about was having him inside of it. now.

"yes..." you whispered, "please..."

you felt the mushroom tip of rafe's cock finally enter into you, and even that was enough for a small smile to twitch up your lips; you knew it was pathetic, you knew that this wasn't something you should be doing but "aaaaaaahhhh-" as he sunk his cock deeper into you, you couldn't resist.

and before you were prepared for it, rafe had forced himself all the way into you, the tip of his cock hitting the sweet spot inside of you as you gasped for air, pressing your eyes closed in a way that brought tears to your eyes.

"tell me who you belong to..." he growled, his lips pressed against your neck as he pulled his cock almost entirely out of you, only leaving a tiny bit of it at your entrance.

"rafe..."

"tell me." rafe grabbed your thigh, hoisting your leg up onto his shoulder so he could get even deeper inside of you, "tell me, who you belong to."

"i..." you whisper, your eyes fluttering open, eyelashes wet with tears, "i belong to you, rafe..."

and as he pistoned his cock into you, you couldn't help but throw your head back, your eyes closed, the tears stuck to your lashes ruining your eye makeup.

when rafe's hand slowly made it's way to your pussy, you could tell that he was close; your ex was a sucker for having you both come at the same time. rafe started drawing lazy circles on your clit as he continued to plunge his cock in and out of you, hitting you right where you needed him, and that combined with his thumb on your clit was making the pressure in your abdomen grow, and grow, and grow...

"i'm gonna fuck another baby into you..." rafe mumbled into your ear, "always wanted a big family..." his thrusts grew quicker to the point that you were having a difficult time keeping up with him, "gonna give you a second baby..." his thumb's pace on your clit quickened, "tell me you want it... c'mon, baby..."

your brain wanted to tell him no, but it was as if your heart and your body were in control, every inch of them screaming out the answer that left your lips.

"yes!" you screamed out, "yes, rafe, yes!"

you could feel your cunt clenching around him, moaning out rafe's name as your orgasm washed over you, every part of your body blissed out, until a sense of clarity hit you, and although you tried to shove rafe off you, you couldn't do so, feeling as warm ropes of his thick cum started painting the walls of your slick cunt white.

as rafe got down off his high, he let out a small chuckle as he pulled his cock out of you, the slightly pinkening inches of him soaked in a white mixture of you and him, only for him to shove the cum that was dripping out of you back into you, making you let out another gasp.

rafe laughed as he pulled his fingers out of your hole, bringing them to your mouth. "taste." and you knew; it wasn't a request, it was a command. and so you did.

some moments went by and you were nuzzled in rafe's arms, the both of you content and satisfied as you laid under the blankets, rafe smelling the raspberry-scented shampoo you always wore with a smile on his face; he hoped that your scent would linger; your shampoo, body wash, perfume; he hoped it'd all just... be there, in his bedsheets, forever.

you took the picture frame off the nightstand, and you saw exactly what you were expecting; a picture of you and rafe kissing only moments after you said i do; rafe in his ridiculously expensive tuxedo and you in your custom vera wang wedding dress, your ex-husband having told you that you didn't only deserve the best; you needed it. as you traced the hem of your wedding dress, rafe let out a chuckle, and you couldn't help but turn to him with your brows furrowed, "what?"

"it's just..." rafe brought his hand to rest over yours, his finger right where yours was, trailing your hem, "this kind of reminds me of how i bunched up this dress around your waist a little bit before the wedding..." his icy blue eyes turned to you, "and how i did the same with your most recent wedding dress, and fucked you. what was it you wore to your wedding with will?" he pretended to ponder, "valentino?"

you looked up at him your eyes narrowing, "you can never tell him this happened."

"don't worry, baby." rafe's hand detached from the frame as he cooed mockingly, going to trace your cheekbone with his long, ringed fingers, "i'm sure he can figure it out when your baby ends up looking nothing like him."

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ thinking of writing a fic about rafe and reader on her wedding day... lmk if you want that.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their jackets (slasher edition)

I need to write slasher stuff more.... I also need to watch scream like I said I would... and other films... but alas cotl rot is too strong

Characters: Jason, brahms, bubba, Thomas, Michael

Notes: reader is gn, cold weather baby!!, in Michael's bit yoy wear his coveralls because he refuses to throw a jacket over it

CWs: none

JASON

Built like a polar bear, he's so used to the cold that he just shrugs it off as he goes into the woods to get fire wood for you

Actually offers his jacket to you until he can get a fire started to keep you warm- he doesn't want you to get sick! Don't worry about him! Especially if this is zombie Jason, the cold doesn't really.. effect his undead body that much...

Doesn't mind it if you steal his jacket from him, he takes it as you being cold- but if you explain that it's partly because you miss him he feels.. bad.. he didn't mean to take so long in the woods he promises

Even if you said it jokingly he's going to do his best to make up for his brief absence

BUBBA

let me tell you, as someone who lives in texas: the winters get brutal. Incredibly cold, he's definitely got at least one coat somewhere... and even if he only had one he would let you take it

But... please stay close to him by the heater, he knows you probably want to go do something else with him but it's truly too cold to not be able to do much else without freezing in their old house- even worse if this takes place in their new home in the second film... underground

He thinks you look really cute in his coat and he tries to let you know that- hes... a little bashful but you think it's sweet

You both probably end up cuddling into one another under the coat together

THOMAS

Once more: texas gets incredibly cold in the winter depending on the time of year and where you are. He's got a coat somewhere

Not that that he really uses it, built like a polar bear like Jason. He tolerates cold pretty well, hardly seems phased by it.. he's so laser focused on his chores and work around the house that you often find him still working outside

And he's given his coat to you because you have a lower tolerance than him... maybe you can convince him to come snuggle with you under it? Maybe? He'd hate to leave his chores unfinished but he doesn't like saying no to you

Very heavy coat, very thick

MICHAEL

Completely unphased by the cold, he also doesn't have a jacket. The best you can do is take his coveralls when you FINALLY convince him to take them off so they can be washed

Does not like sharing his things, the likelihood of him humoring you after you put them in is low. May actually take them off of you himself... not incredibly rough but there's intention to yoink them back

If you're cold then go get a blanket or you're own jacket... why steal his things without asking?

It completely flies over his head that jacket (or rather clothing) stealing is common for couples

BRAHMS

Move over give him his sweater back he's FREEZING! If he needs to he's going to wear the sweater with you in it!

HATES the cold and he's going to make it everyone else's problem, please don't let him catch a fever reader! Please!

Fire place? Lit. Blankets? Gathered. Sweaters? Worn. You're more likely to see him leave the walls during the colder months so he can snag your body heat, too

Lets it go to his head if you let slip that you stole his sweater because you missed him... hes basically hovering over now- well, more than he did before

[haoetoile]

two of me are cuter - choi seungcheol

word count: 3,467

genre: smut with hints of fluff by the start!

pairing: newly-married!seungcheol x fem!reader

a/n: i went ia bc of the holidays but now i'm back and finally ready to write this account's first smut (honestly idk if this will turn out great but i hope so). this smut is totally dedicated to @euteamomuitocheol (ily <3) and was kinda based in juno by sabrina carpenter. ps: this was not revised before posting!!

contains: you go to his mother's house with your newly-married husband seungcheol for a family reunion and both of you spend some time with your nephews, which leads both of you wanting a baby. reader is described to be much shorter than cheol! smut contains: names (bunny, princess, slut, darling), fingering, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, multiple positions, squirting, mating press, creampie, and filthy language, slight dumbification if you squint (?) , basically, a breeding smut. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

sat at your vanity, you finished to loosen the last curls you had just done with the babyliss. after that, you inspected carefully all traces of your makeup to see if there was anything unblended or smudged before getting up, there was no need to clean up the vanity now as you could do it once you got back home

to be honest, you always loved to go to seungcheol's family reunions, as his family was very welcoming and supportive to your relationship since the very beginning of it, and his parents treated you like their own child. you also really loved to spend some time with mom, who would often teach you new recipes to cook and find cute and amusing how eager you were to learn seungcheol's likings, she would also show you his baby pictures, and tell stories about him and about how she and her husband fell in love, and not to mention his whole family was very supportive of you, like the time when you graduated law school and when your own family didn't even showed up, they celebrated as if it was one of their own blood who graduated

you were looking now at the full-body mirror in your shared room, fixing your black dress so it was correctly in place and smoothed out, when you felt hands gripping your waist lightly

"you look gorgeous, honey" seungcheol's voice was a bit raspy, making you shiver as his soft lips met your cheek for a peck "i am the luckiest man alive for being able to marry you, my princess"

"such a flatterer" you smiled, laughing softly as you heard him chuckle "i love you so much, cheol" you felt him lean a bit more, trying to kiss you "not now, babe, you'll smudge my lipstick"

...

during the car ride, you felt both nervous and excited to get there. you two haven't been able to see his family for 5 months now, as the honeymoon and the newly-wed life was busying you two much more you'd like. his brother's wife had given birth to a beautiful baby girl two months after your honeymoon started, and a month after, it was their eldest twins' birthday, so you were nervous if they'd be angry about you two missing the festivities or not, and excited to meet the new babies

actually, his family was really glad you two were finally back and were really excited to hear about the italy trip you guys made as a honeymoon and was equally excited to receive the gifts you bought while touring around the country and, of course, try all the different wines you bought

...

after giving away the gifts and telling stories about the trip, you found yourself sitting with his brother's wife, talking a little more about the honeymoon and motherhood, as she held little younghwa, the newest addition to the family

"she grew up a lot already" you nearly jumped as seungcheol back hugged you "i remember when you were pregnant" his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke to his sister-in-law, not wanting to wake up the newborn baby

"she truly did. younghwa's being a blessing, she's actually very calm for a newborn and it's not being hard at all to take care of" the older woman said with a smile on her face as she caressed the top of the baby's head

"i feel like it'd be quite hard to take care of a newborn for what i've heard of" your husband replied

"it's not as hard as it seems, you kind of get the hang of it once you have your own, but i swear it's not hard. here, hold her a bit, you'll see how easy it is" his sister-in-law put the sleeping baby in his arms

fuck, you thought, he looked so hot with a baby in his arms. this shouldn't be having the effect it was on you, the idea of getting pregnant with his child suddenly becoming attractive

"see? it's easy to hold a newborn, you just have to support their head well and make sure they don't fall. so, when are you two having a kid too?" the question made you bite your lip, scared of seungcheol's answer

"it seems a bit earlier to have babies as we're still newlyweds, but y/n and i are currently having some fun trying... right, babe?" you blushed at the question "we had really nice tries in italy"

"seungcheol!" you scolded him in a screamed-whisper, stomping on his feet to not startle the sleeping baby on his arms "you don't say those things in public, specially not in front of your family!" you were pretty sure your face was not pink anymore but bright red, and he laughed softly before apologizing

"but it's funny to see you blushing, love~" he laughed again, handling younghwa back to her mother "come here, let's play with the kids"

he guided you to the yard, where the 4-year-olds were playing with a huge variety of toys that seungcheol's parents set up for when their grandchildren would go there

...

you two played for a couple hours with the kids. seeing seungcheol lift them, play with them, hug them, and be a gentle and loving uncle was not helping at all the baby fever you had just given yourself from seeing him earlier, and as if on cue, your little niece looked at him with big, sparkly eyes

"uncle cheol, when are we having a cousing to play with us?" she was sat on his thigh, and her brother, who was on yours, was quick to nod in agreement – god, it had to be a divine sign, no way everyone would be asking you two about kids if not to finally stop your baby fever with what you wanted the most: getting pregnant

"as soon as possible, bubs. me and auntie y/n are having a long conversation with the stork to deliver a baby as soon as possible to our home~" he used a gentle tone, fixing the little girl's bang before releasing her from his grasp, seeing both her and her brother return him the cutest smiles ever

he was just so gentle with them... the soft-spoken way he'd talk to the kids, the bubbly, cheerful way he'd always have around them, the way he was ever so gentle. fuck, you needed to have his baby so bad you could feel your mind fogging up any other thoughts

...

the way back home was quieter than usual, you two would often make some small talk, but you were just so absorbed and distracted by the thoughts of starting a family of your own with him, you'd barely talk if not to answer him

"baby... is there something wrong?" seungcheol asked in concern, using one of his hands to slowly caress your thigh in a soothing way "you seem awfully quiet now"

"i'm okay, cheol, don't worry" you flashed him a quick smile

"really, bunny?" he used that nickname since you two started dating, and yet it never failed to make you blush "you usually are not that quiet around me" he cocked a brow "is there anything you want to tell me?"

as you opened your mouth to talk, he continued "are you like this because everyone seemed to ask us for a child today?"

"actually... yes" you inhaled deeply "but, like, not in a bad way... i mean... you were just so hot with younghwa in your arms, and the way you treated the twins... god, it's giving me such baby fever" you stuttered a bit and could feel your cheeks turning a light shade of pink, but you were also relieved you could finally share your thoughts with your husband

"is that so, bunny?" he chuckled "well, i suppose it's more than fair i knock you up as soon as possible, then" he smirked, squeezing your thigh gently as he reverse-parked into your assigned parking spot

"c`mon, let's take this to the bedroom, then" seungcheol started leaving open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you were pinned against the elevator wall, not caring if he'd leave bruises or not

you tried your best not to moan, biting your lip as he licked and sucked at your sensitive spot, leaving you helplessly wet by any second with just that

"c-cheol" you panted "not here... someone can see us and there are cameras"

"you're right, bunny... but don't think i won't have my way with you once we're inside" he left a last mark on your neck before pulling away, waiting so the elevator would stop at your floor

once inside, you both stepped out of your shoes, and as soon as possible, you were already in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as you two were in an intense make out session, tongues fighting each other over dominance, sucking the air out of both lungs. you couldn't help but moan, feeling clouded just from the feeling of his mouth on yours, making you get even wetter, as seungcheol was always a good kisser

before you could even say anything, you were already in the room and sat by the end of the bed, with big, veiny hands undoing the zipper of your dress, exposing the black lacy set you wore just for him

"fuck, you look so pretty..." he groaned in your ear, peppering kisses all the way from your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, while his hands lowered the thin straps of the balconette bra, making his way to your breasts

your nipples pert up at his advances, your whole body already on fire from the light touches "how come are you even sexier than usual today, bunny? are you trying to kill me?" the raspy voice made your nipples pert up even more, and you just whined in answer

seungcheol laughed at your reaction, and was quick enough to attach his lips to one of your nipples, while his hands undid the clasp of the bra. once he got them away, one of his hands went up to play with the neglected nipple, pinching and rubbing in the same pace his mouth would lick, suck and gently bite on the other nub

you felt wetter by any second, not being able to hold the moans anymore, and as much as you'd like to ask him to stop teasing you, you knew better than anyone seungcheol wasn't going to stop, so you decided to take off your drenched panties by yourself

as your hands slid down to pull the underwear piece south, his hands were quick to stop yours, and your eyes met his face, which carried on a smirk "that desperate already, are we?" he chuckled again "no need to, princess, i'll take care of you" he assured you

seungcheol's hands caressed your curves slowly, as if they were memorizing your body and registering how it felt to touch it, before he finally pulled down your panties "you look so, so sexy, princess... you look so sexy i'm afraid i'll have to mark you as mine, to make sure no one else looks at my princess" he growled softly, earning a mewl from you

his hands pried your legs open gently, as a contrast to his words, exposing your soaking wet folds to him "are you that wet from thinking about how i'll breed this pussy tonight, bunny?" one of his fingers teased the folds, gathering the moisture and spreading it all over the nether lips

you couldn't even answer him, as when you opened your mouth to, his fingers plunged inside your cunt, with sharp but slow strokes. you couldn't help but moan even louder when his fingers started moving faster, while his thumb circled your clit, he needed to prep you for his cock, but god, he had such skilled fingers, he was able to get you dumb just by fingering you

he added another finger, slowly scissoring them inside you, making your thighs quiver and your moans get more erratic. his pace was relentless, and you could feel the coil on your stomach ready to snap, your hips jerking forward with each thrust

"already that desperate to cum, princess? do i have that much effect on you?" he sucked on your neck, slowing down his pace painfully to tease you

"a-ah... cheol, please...." you whined "please, i'll do whatever you want me to if you let me cum.... please" you were practically fucking yourself on his hand by now, moaning and trying to pull the best doe eyes you could to make him give you what you wanted, and who was seuncheol to deny it? specially when you were begging so cutely and offering to be completely at his mercy

suddenly, his thrusts regain the same pace and strength of before, your mind fogging up completely as you could only moan his name, and it was not long enough before you finally let go to the delicious sensation of the orgasm, his fingers still inside you, helping you ride out the sensation 'till the very last wave

"you said you'd do whatever i wanted if i let you cum, right, bunny?" you nodded, still catching your breath, but his lust-filled tone was already enough to make you as horny as you were before cumming "then come here and suck me off like the good little slut you are"

he was quick to strip off his clothes, and you looked attentively as he took each piece of clothing, his hard cock bobbing up against his stomach as he sat down with his back pressed against the headboard

you got on all fours, quickly taking his thick length on your hands, stroking lightly before finally wrapping your lips around him, earning a half moan half groan from the man

"f-fuck, princess... such a good fucking mouth" one of his hands gripped a handful of your hair

you bobbed your head against his length, feeling wetter and wetter as you tried your best to give him a good head, using your hands to stroke him whenever you had problems to fit him entirely inside your mouth. seungcheol was a moaning mess under you, his hips jerking against your face and the grip on your hair like iron

but suddenly, he removed his dick from your mouth, using your hair to do so, and flipped you over, pressing you against the mattress in a not-so-gentle motion. he was being rough but gentle at the same time, and you couldn't deny you were loving it

"such a good little slut, getting my cock all nice and wet... fuck, i'm so lucky you are mine, only mine" he growled, rubbing his tip all over your fold teasingly "i'm going to breed you, to fill you up with my cum and make sure you carry my babies, i am going to fuck you tonight until we're sure i've knocked you up" his words sent a wave of heat through your entire body, making you shiver in expectation, the thought of carrying his child becoming more and more tempting, driving you wild with desire

"p-please... breed me, cheol.... leave me all stuffed with your cum, please" you could only whine, pushing your hips backwards, trying to earn a bit more contact with his shaft, but seungcheol only growled in response, one of his hands moving from your hips to your hair, pressing you against the mattress even more as he buried himself inside your warm walls, the contact making you both moan loudly

he was just so big, you could feel his tip tease and caress your g-spot relentlessly, as he slammed into you with a nearly animalistic ferocity, groaning and dirty-talking to you all the time, but honestly, you were already too lost in pleasure to assimilate his words, being able to moan his name only

even though you were pressed against the mattress, you were still loud, so seungcheol flipped you over, turning you both to a missionary position, where he could swallow each one of your moans, not wanting to get expelled from the apartment you two had just bought

his hips slammed against yours even faster, as he kissed you and his hands roamed against your body, holding your hips, squeezing your thighs, squeezing your breasts, and teasing your nipples. the coil on your stomach was ready to snap again as he deliciously fucked you senseless

"f-fuck... breed me, cheol, please" you whined in a needy way, making him groan audibly

"you're so perfect like this, bunny, begging for me to breed you like the good wife you are, begging to be full of my cum" his lips found your neck, suckling more marks

"cheol... i-i can't hold it anymore, fuck....." you whined "i-i'm gonna cum!" you moaned

"then come for me, darling" he sped up the pace, moaning against your ear as he continued to fuck you senseless

you couldn't hold for long, but you knew he still needed to cum, so even after an intense orgasm, you let him continue to fuck you, his self-control long forgotten, specially as the new tightness of your pussy squeezing him was driving him even crazier

"you're going to take my cum very well, right? you'll need it a lot to grow our child, darling" fuck. the raspy, teasing tone was enough to make you wetter again, and you nodded, digging your nails on his broad shoulders as his thrusts started to get sloppier, signaling he was closer and closer to the edge

not long after, he shot his load inside you in a large quantity, slowly pulling out once he rode out the aftershocks of his also intense orgasm. he looked down at your swollen, fucked pussy, oozing out his load, and before he could even think, he felt the blood rush down to his cock once again, making him groan

seungcheol sat down again with his back pressed against the headboard, smirking knowingly as he saw how wet you were becoming to see his hard-on again

"princess, you're starting to leak out my cum.... how do you expect to have my babies if you keep doing this?" he chuckled "come here...." he beckoned you "i think it's about time i breed you again, just to make sure you'll get out of here throughly knocked up"

you understood his signal, and quickly straddled his lap, aligning his shaft with your wetness. he slid even better than the first time, his own sperm functioning as lube, you started to ride him slowly, picking up the pace gradually as you rolled your hips against his deliciously

the new position made it seem like he was even bigger, caressing your cervix in a way he had your eyes rolling, making you bounce on his cock like you never would do it again, while his mouth latched at one of your breasts again

suddenly, it all became too much again, and you were already crying out his name loudly, your hips losing pace as seungcheol's hands were the ones making the motion of bouncing you on his cock now, and before you could even warn him, your pussy became as tight as possible, gripping him like a vice

"fuck, bunny.... you'll kill me like this, that slutty pussy's suffocating my cock" he groaned, bouncing you even harder as he knew you were about to cum

you were so lost in pleasure and ecstasy, you gave all of you to continue bouncing on his cock until the coil finally snapped again, making you gush out the warm, transparent liquid of your cum

"f-fuck... did you just squirted, baby?" he groaned, shooting his load inside you once again "fucking hell, that was the sexiest thing i've ever seen" he moaned

...

after cleaning up (which he basically did all by himself, as you could barely walk, legs like jelly after such an intense session), you both laid on the bed, cuddling and thinking about the future

"i really hope you get pregnant, y/n. i can't wait to see a baby who look just like you or me running around this apartment" he was over the moon with just the thought alone, and that was the cutest, and also most attractive thing you've ever seen him do

"you're so cute, cheol" you laughed

"yeah, but two of me would definitely be even cuter, don't you agree, honey?" he booped your nose

"i agree, i agree 100%" you smooshed him, making you both giggle "i love you so much, my husband"

"i love you too, princess" he kissed you passionately "but i need to make sure you really are throughly bred" he flashed you a smirk, and that's where you were sure you still had a long night ahead

[organic-bloodbath]

hello! could I request literally anything w chishiya x pregnant!reader? maybe how he (and the rest of the group) would take care of reader during and in between games? thank you sm!

Child of Hearts

Chishiya x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Chishiya takes care of you after you two have been separated from the rest of your friends.

A/N: Please request me more Chishiya i need this man so bad. I hope this is alright 🫶🏻 (mind you, i have never been pregnant myself so i might not know what the hell i'm talking about)

Part 2

♤♡♧◇

Running away from a man shooting every person in sight with a huge rifle was a big challenge when you were 7 months pregnant. You didn't know what the gun was called, but when the bullet hit its target, it would basically cut your body in half. Hiding behind a car would be useless, as the car would be in pieces as well.

Running fast enough was already difficult, almost impossible, but your heavy stomach, bearing another human being, was making it a lot harder. It didn't take long to be out of breath and your legs were going to betray you any moment. Chishiya's hand was pulling you forward and you could barely keep up. He would soon have to drag your body against the ground, and then you'd both be dead.

This was it. You had played several games, somehow been able to beat them all with the help of your friends, which was a miracle itself. Especially without Arisu, Usagi, Kuina and Chishiya you would have died ages ago.

Before your pregnancy, you had been quite a fast runner and could run fast for a long period of time. Now? The total opposite.

Finally, you could sit down on the ground, leaning against a car. You had to only hope that the shooter had passed you and wasn't going to blow it up.

"You doing okay?" Chishiya looked at you with concern when you closed your eyes and threw your head back, breathing loudly.

"Yeah, yeah, i'm fine," you nodded, barely being able to talk. "Just can't run anymore."

Seeing a massive airship floating in the sky almost right above you, a large playing card hanging from it, you finally came into a conclusion what was going on.

"Well, he must be the King of Spades," Chishiya said next to you, leaning against the car.

Absolutely amazing - now the entire Tokyo was a game arena?

The shooting had stopped for a moment, but the shooter – or more specifically the King, should you call him – could come out from any corner at any second, surprising you completely.

Ann arrived with a car, telling all of you to hop in. However, Chishiya was left behind, because of a grenade that had been thrown between him and the car.

As were you with him.

♤♡♧◇

The others were gone now, driven away with the car. You and Chishiya were left alone to find a way to survive on your own. You were relieved to have Chishiya with you, he was extremely smart and knew how to survive different situations.

Previously many of your teammates had helped you, but now it was just the two of you. For a second you were slightly afraid that taking care of you alone would become too much to Chishiya if the King of Spades found you out of all people and started chasing you. You could tell that running with you was challenging to him.

You were starving, not remembering when was the last time you got proper food, and eventually found a small grocery store which windows had been shattered.

Chishiya started browsing for food while you waited, leaning against the counter. Soon, he came back with the most suitable and edible food he could find in this situation.

"Cash or credit?"

"Aren't you a little too pregnant to be working?"

"Don't underestimate me, Doctor Shuntaro," you teased him.

You pretended to scan each item like you had worked here for years.

"Thank you for shopping with us, please come again," you said with your best customer service voice.

"You definitely deserve the best worker of the month award," he praised you, almost impressed, and clapped his hands a few times.

"Finally someone gives my work credit," you said, hand on your chest.

There was a small table and two chairs by the window. You and Chishiya dragged them away from the window, so you could sit down in the back of the room and not be seen to anyone possibly walking past the store.

"Here you go," Chishiya said and offered you food and a plastic fork, along with a bottle of water, as you sat down. "It's not much but it's the best i got now without any electricity to heat it up."

"Thank you," you said quietly.

You ate in comfortable silence. You hadn't realized how dizzy you had started to feel after all the running and having not eaten or drank water in hours.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Chishiya asked when he was finished with his meal and put his hand gently on yours, looking concerned.

"Yeah, i'm fine," you mumbled and stretched a little. "My back just hurts."

"Let's take a break and lay down for a while, okay?"

"But shouldn't we stay on the move? The King of Spades might come back and-"

"We'll be safe enough here for a while. Take a short nap, i'll keep an eye on the surroundings," he insisted. "You need more rest than me."

You were sleepy, so you weren't going to resist too much. You hadn't slept properly in a while.

Chishiya watched you sleep on your left side, your head on his lap to use as a pillow. You clinged on his leg with both of your arms, and he gently brushed your hair with his fingers to soothe you to sleep.

You were so beautiful, and he knew that he didn't say it to you often enough - as often as you would have deserved.

Chishiya was terrified every second of being in this world, having to play the games with you on his side. He wasn't afraid of many things, but you? If he lost you, he'd also lose your baby. His unborn child. And that was easily his biggest fear.

You had been in a relationship together for the past three years, and the pregnancy hadn't been planned, at all. Chishiya wasn't sure if he would ever want children, and when you told him that you were pregnant, he didn't know what to think. But it didn't take him too long to get used to the idea of becoming a father. And having you as the mother was everything he could have wished for.

You, however, hadn't considered becoming a mother at this age and had cried in the bathroom for an hour after seeing the two lines on the pregnancy test. Now, as the months had passed, you had gotten used to the idea of having a child and were more ready with Chishiya's constant support, who you loved and trusted with all your heart.

You just had to finish the rest of the games and hopefully, you could then return home - before you'd start delivering the baby.

♤♡♧◇

You entered a new game with Chishiya inside an old prison.

Jack of Hearts - Solitary confinement.

This was absolutely the ideal game for you, since all you could do was just chill and sit around until it was time to go into your little prison cell to announce the correct symbol on the back of your collar. And for that, you had Chishiya revealing it for you. As long as Chishiya was there for you, you had nothing to worry about.

People formed groups, telling each other everyone's symbols, so other people could confirm they were telling the truth.

"Hi," a girl in a blue dress greeted with an eager smile, approaching you. "Want to join our group?"

You glanced at Chishiya, unsure, but nodded your head.

"Sure, why not," you shrugged. Mom always told you to try and be more social.

Slowly, as the rounds went by, people started to lie and betray each other, which ended up more and more people being eliminated. This was a Heart's game, after all, it was supposed to mess with both your head and heart.

"Listen, let me worry about the game, you just remember your symbol and rest, okay?" Chishiya had said earlier, giving your hand a squeeze.

Chishiya had been eyeing the other people and trying to study any hints that could lead him to reveal someone as the Jack of Hearts. He hadn't told you much about his thoughts, probably still trying to decide his opinions on the players.

Right now, you sat at the table, looking towards the group which was sharing their symbols with each other. It was like watching a high school drama all over again, except now people were getting killed.

"Here," Chishiya said, sitting next you, and laid food on the table in front of you. "You need to eat."

He had grabbed two different kinds of crackers, a bottle of water, some orange juice, and a can of soup.

"I just did, i'm fine," you tried to refuse, even though you knew you could have eaten a little bit more. Chishiya just stared at you with no expression on his face.

"Yes, but you need to eat more, since you're eating for two," he insisted and wasn't having a 'no' for an answer.

You rolled your eyes, and he noticed it, giving you a look.

"Fine, fine, Doctor Shuntaro," you smirked.

After you had finished eating, you went to the bathroom again - you were sure you'd have to pee every hour. Washing your hands and your face, you heard someone arriving to the bathroom.

"Hello," a young girl greeted you nervously, taking careful steps towards you. "Sorry to bother you, but could you tell me the symbol on my collar? I don't really trust my group anymore and, well, you seem nice."

"Um, sure," you mumbled and looked at the girl's symbol. "It's a diamond."

"You sure?"

"I have fully functional eyes."

"Thank you so much," the girl said, giving you an excited smile.

You didn't bother to include yourself in that drama club and lie for no proper reason, you had decided to keep your distance to them since you didn't need help with your symbol. You doubted any of them would be the Jack, but who knew - the Jack could be a girl too, after all. If they started manipulating and lying to each other, that was on them.

A few more rounds passed, and you were starting to become really sleepy. By now you had been at the prison for 8 hours and you had no idea how much longer all this would take. Chishiya had been feeding you crackers and other snacks almost every hour, now that you had food available a lot easier.

You wondered if your friends were alright, though you knew all of them were strong and if they had survived this far, they must be able to handle anything. Still, of course you couldn't help but to worry.

You walked around the place and tried to search for a corner to take a quick nap, there was 36 minutes left until you had to go back to your cell.

Then, you had to stop walking when you felt sudden pain and pressure on your stomach. You let out a loud gasp, startling any few people nearby and make them look at you. You leaned against the nearest wall, so you wouldn't fall on the floor.

No, no, no, no. You weren't going to start delivering your baby a month or two early. Especially in the middle of the game where there was a time limit and a chance to be killed. Of course they wouldn't stop the game for a moment if there was a woman on labour.

Chishiya had heard you and instantly ran towards you. His eyes widened when you were holding your stomach in pain.

"Y/N? What's happening?" Chishiya asked, trying to hide his panic so you wouldn't start to freak out even more.

"I-I don't know," you mumbled and truly started to panic. "It just hurts. I don't know. Oh my god, Chishiya, I-"

"Okay, calm down. You're having contractions, it doesn't necessarily mean the baby's coming, okay?" he tried to reassure you, his hand on your cheek. "Look at me. Just breathe, take a deep breath."

You did as he told, taking deep breaths and squeezing Chishiya's hand every time the waves of pain took hold of your stomach. If this hurt, you didn't want to know how much it hurt to push the baby out of you - your pain tolerance was extremely poor.

"I can't do this, any of this, i'm-"

"Yes, you can, darling," Chishiya said softly.

After some time, it stopped. You sat on the floor, back against the wall, for the next twenty minutes, Chishiya holding your hand the entire time and gently rubbing your back.

"See? Everything's fine," he said calmly and put his arm around you, keeping you close against him.

"You know," you started, eyes starting to water. "I haven't felt any movements from the baby in a few days. What if something's wrong?"

"Listen," Chishiya said. "Contractions are normal, even when the baby won't come yet. The baby might not move every day, it's normal. You'll just have to stay calm and try to avoid too much stress. And i know that's a lot to ask for in our current situation."

You nodded, unsure, but trying to believe his words as well as possible. He was a doctor after all, right?

"Next round, we'll get you a place to sleep for a moment," Chishiya promised. There was 9 minutes left to announce your symbols.

"You know, when the baby will be born, we'll have a lot more different story on how the pregnancy went than other expecting mothers," you chuckled. "Like, not many moms can say that they've run away from a shooter while being on their third trimester of their pregnancy."

Chishiya smiled. "Or spent a day in a prison with no actual guards around."

An older man walked past you, still sitting on the floor, leaning against Chishiya.

"My God. Are you okay? How on earth have you survived this far being pregnant like that?" he asked in shock, surely seen the scene just a moment ago.

"Well, i've had a lot of help," you shrugged.

You had been used to people commenting on your pregnancy. Every time you met someone knew, they just stared at your stomach for too long, feeling bad for you and considering you the weakest player of the group. You stood out from the rest of the people around, it was understandable. At first it had bothered you, but now you were so tired of it you just felt numb.

Arriving to the Beach for the first time, the entire pool party had quieted down for a moment when people saw you.

"Here, it is required to only wear a swimsuit," they had announced, but looking at you, they let you wear more clothes. Thank god for that. You weren't exactly very fond of showing off your stretch marks and everything. You had been given shorts and an oversized t-shirt - it was the same shirt you still had on.

In the end of the current game, only four people came out from the cells alive, after the Jack had guessed the wrong symbol, and left the prison, two of them you and Chishiya. It had been the first game where you could have actually relaxed and sat back for a while.

If there had been a proper bed, you wouldn't have minded to stay a bit longer too.

"So, what now?" you asked.

"We'll try to find a place to spend the night."

It was becoming the night and you had been walking almost half an hour on the streets, trying to find a good place to hide and sleep.

You found a small hostel, completely abandoned and empty, and found your way into one of the rooms. The door was locked, but Chishiya could easily pick the lock open. You were able to sleep on a real bed again, you could have started crying from even the thought of it. The sheets weren't fresh at all and the blanket was really thin, but you couldn't complain.

You laid yourself on the bed, it felt so good to feel an actual mattress and a pillow under you, you felt like your body could melt there like a cotton candy in water. Chishiya came to lay down next to you after removing his shirt, warming you better with his bare skin. He cupped your cheek and pulled you in a sweet kiss.

Suddenly, you winced when you felt a kick inside your stomach. Chishiya immediately sat up, concerned.

"What's wrong? Did the contractions start again?"

You grabbed his hand and put it on your stomach, trying the correct spot to find any movements, and when he felt a kick right against his hand, he flinched and a smile spread on his lips.

You started laughing, with a few tears of relief and happiness, and he laughed a little too.

"We'll be alright," Chishiya whispered. He hugged you and kissed your forehead.

"I hope so," you said quietly.

"I love you," he whispered and looked you deep into your eyes. "You know that, right?"

"Are you saying that in case the King of Spades comes to shoot us in our sleep?" you teased. "Honestly, that would definitely be cheating."

"I doubt he's going to find us here," he assured you and pressed a kiss on your hair. "Good night."

"Good night," you answered and turned on your side. Chishiya's arm wrapped around your stomach, pulling you against his chest.

[writingunderneathawillow]

novelty (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

content warnings: smut, mdni pretty please, first time, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, female reader, soft bucky (i love him), established relationship, fluff word count: 2.6k a/n: i'm lowkey thinking about making this a series, but one where every part can be read as a stand alone? i've got so many ideas, basically all of them about bucky and inexperienced reader trying new things. is that weird?

Bucky and you had been dating for a month now.

He was always so sweet to you, making sure you felt comfortable with everything he did.

He never wanted you to feel like you had to do anything other than what you were willing to do.

The first time you stayed over at his apartment, he had even offered to sleep on the couch which had left you laughing and feeling luckier than anyone else. You declined this and both of you spend the night entangled with each other in his bed.

On the night of your one-month anniversary, the two of you sat together on the bed after a fancy dinner and lots of flowers. When the light outside faded and the sunset coloured his bedroom in golden hues, you kissed him. Half lying on him, half sitting on his lap, your lips crashed onto his, relishing in the flavour of him.

Your hands ran through his hair while his fingers ghosted over your waist, holding you closely to him.

His tongue moved against your slightly parted lips, pushing them apart and exploring the inside of your mouth.

With a gentleness that contrasted so strongly with his usual demeanour, he cradled the back of your head with one hand and rested the other on the small of your back.

A moan escaped his mouth which seemed to bring him back to reality and he gently pushed you away to look at your face.

He took in your glassy eyes and warmed skin, slowly dragging his knuckles over your cheek.

"We gotta go a little slower," he rasped, keeping his hand against your cheek.

"Why?" You asked, a shy smile curving your mouth.

"Cause you're killing me when you do... this," Bucky replied, smirking as he looked you up and down.

Your smile expanded and you looked at him through heavy lidded eyes, desire coursing through your veins.

"Maybe that's the plan," you confessed and gazed at him, waiting for his reaction.

He took in a sharp breath, fingers twitching on your sides as he seemingly struggled to hold himself back from taking you up on your offer.

"Doll," he rasped quietly, muscles flexing under his shirt as he pulled you flush against him.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Yeah, I do," you retorted, your fingers wandering over his neck and into his hair, slowly dragging between his locks as you met his lips again.

His breath stuttered against your mouth and his hands slipped underneath your shirt, ghosting against the clasps of your bra.

Then he pulled away again, his cheeks flushed and eyes hungry with desire.

"This is a big step, sweetheart," he whispered, and held you at bay, taking in every micro expression of your face.

"I'll wait as long as you want," Bucky insisted.

"I don't wanna wait," you replied, scrunching up your eyebrows. "I'm ready. I wanna do it... with you."

For a few seconds, he closed his eyes, relishing in your words. His mouth corners twitched as if he was fighting a smile.

"Are you sure?" He asked then, cupping your face in order not to miss a single sign of uncertainty.

"Yes," you answered and there was no room for doubt in your voice, simply excitement.

If a smile could truly light up a room, it would be Bucky's right now.

He leaned back in to kiss you again, this time with more vigour.

Breathless and messily, your faces connected while his hands traced shapeless motions on your bare stomach. He fumbled with the hem of your shirt, taking his time in peeling away the layer that separated the two of you.

You could tell that he was slowing himself down, letting you feel every inch of his patience in his movements

When he finally rid you of your shirt, his eyes hungrily darted over your body, taking in all of you.

Excitement pooled in your stomach along with some nerves that sparked little bolts of electricity underneath your skin.

To even out the playing field, you began to take off his shirt, dragging the material over his chest and slowly exposing more of his skin.

The low lighting in the room bounced off on his abs, highlighting the dips and crooks.

With a feathery finger, you slowly traced the lines on his abdomen, travelling further south. His breath hitched and he reflexively caught your hand.

You looked at him and saw a hint of a smile on his lips when he grabbed your other hand as well, bringing them above your head. He inched closer to you and played with the waistband of your jeans, one hand slipping towards the button and zipper.

A feeling which was a mix of lust and nervousness coursed through you as he removed your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear before him.

Again, he let his gaze wander over you before conquering your mouth in a wet kiss, that sent heat between your legs.

You hooked your ankles behind his back, pulling him in closer.

The material of his trousers was rough against your bare skin, every shift dragging across you. Pressed up against him, you felt his clothed arousal digging into your core and it made your stomach flutter.

Bucky’s lips travelled down from your lips to your jaw, then your collarbone. He stayed there a while, sucking and licking the sensitive skin until he was satisfied with the blooming red underneath that promised a deep purple mark tomorrow.

When he looked up at you, chin hovering just over your breasts, the breath was stolen from your lungs.

His pupils were dilated with lust and there was a faint line of saliva around his lips. To see him like this, absolutely taken with you, it made you lightheaded with joy. The fact that you had this kind of effect on him eased your nerves.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice rough but attentive.

“Yeah, better than okay,” you replied, and he nodded.

“You just tell me when to stop, alright, doll?” His gaze was fixed on you, sure not to miss a single indication of you.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you answered truthfully, writhing a little underneath him with pure yearning.

You felt the damp patch in your panties as you shifted around and almost wished that he wouldn’t be so considerate. A hunger that you had never experienced like this before had taken a hold of you and it only increased when he started to unhook the clasps of your bra.

He looked at you like you were a masterpiece, a painting that should be admired by billions of people when his eyes followed every contour of your exposed body.

It would have been instinctual for you to feel just a bit self-conscious, your body bare before his eyes, just covered by your panties, but how could you when he looked at you like that. Like you were born to be pressed flush against him, born to be his.

His tongue trailed down between your breasts, leaving a trail of him down to your belly button.

Only then he began to take off his pants, the tent in his boxers leaving you speechless and clenching your legs together a little.

He smirked as he saw the tremors in your legs, one large hand brought down to rest on your thigh, so close to the hem of your panties.

“Nervous?” He asked, no trace of cockiness in his voice as he fixated you with his eyes.

“A little. But the good kind,” you responded truthfully.

“The good kind,” he repeated, a husky chuckle following. “Alright.”

With one swift motion he advanced closer to you on the mattress and rested his hands on your hips, just on the edge of your underwear.

He hooked his fingers into the material and slowly, torturously freed you of them. With the phantom of a smug grin did he drag the pad of his thumb over the wet patch on them before dropping them to the ground.

Now, fully bare before him, the nerves returned fully. You closed your eyes, trying to slow your heartbeat and get lost in the sensation of being exactly where you wanted to be.

Only when Bucky softly spoke did your eyes snap back open.

“Sweetheart? Do you wanna stop?”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh.

“Not at all. I just… need a second.”

He nodded and said: “Take all the time you need.”

It didn’t seem possible for your heart to be any fuller with adoration for him but with words like that, it was seconds away from bursting.

You pulled him back towards you, connecting your lips with his and felt his tongue drag along the entrance of your mouth, teasing your until you opened up.

While his tongue explored your mouth, his right hand dipped down between your legs, brushing up ever so gently against your slick folds.

An exhale caught in your lungs as you felt his fingers toying with you, gathering your arousal and coming up against your clit for a few seconds.

He deepened the kiss, and you bucked your hips towards him, looking to replicate the feeling of his hands on you again. You felt him grin against your lips, but you were so high on his touch that you didn’t care.

One of his fingers circled your entrance and he pulled back to look at you, wanting to take in your face as he pushed into you.

A stifled gasp broke from your lips as you felt him slowly widening you out, pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch against you, still covered by his boxers. “Gonna take a second to get you ready.”

He added a second and then a third finger, filling you up so deliciously that you couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips.

“You like that?” He asked, still as attentive and focused on you as before.

“Yeah,” you replied, nothing more than a shaky gasp as you felt your insides tighten around his finger, sucking him in greedily.

Your head swam with oxytocin and when he brushed up against your clit with his thumb, your whole body began to quiver.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, not that Bucky showed any inclination to do that. You searched for something to hold onto, digging your nails into his back as he continued to encircle your clit, giving you the friction that you needed.

Heat was building up in your lower stomach like a knot coming closer to detangling with every single movement of his. You felt the warmth spread to your neck and chest, the pressure strengthening with every second that passed until it broke. The knot unravelled and you came with such a force that you had to press your mouth against his shoulder as blinding satisfaction flooded your veins.

Bucky continued to work you through your orgasm until you caught your breath and looked up at him with gleaming eyes.

Next to the craving in his eyes was pride. In you, in himself, in the connection that you shared.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead that gleamed with sweat, and you closed your eyes, radiant with the burn of your release.

When your breathing evened out, you parted your legs again, allowing Bucky to fit himself against your body. He took off his boxers and his cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach. Beads of precum wetted the pink tip.

You held your breath as you appraised him and a second of doubt clouded your mind. His dick was a lot bigger than just his fingers. But when you looked at Bucky and saw the adoration plastered across his face, you breathed out your worries and nodded.

“I’m ready,” you said and meant it.

He cupped your face and replied: “You just tell me if I gotta stop, ok? I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I know.”

He beamed down at you and then moved forward until he lined up with your entrance.

With his hand he slowly guided himself in. You felt the stretch immediately, but it didn’t hurt. It was more of a burning sensation that excited you.

Bucky kept his eyes on you, searching for signs to stop.

Since there were none, he moved further, and you held onto his muscular arm as he spread you open.

Bucky groaned as he felt your walls flutter around him at the same time as your nails dug into his forearm and it took a lot for him to not fully push himself into you.

He gave you time to adjust, to shape yourself around him. It was a snug fit, but sensually so, you could feel every vein on his dick.

When you nodded again, he pulled back a little only to then move further into you as your walls allowed for him to enter your almost completely.

You weren’t sure which one of you felt more bliss in this second.

The sensation of him filling you out, stuffing you to the brim until you thought you could never feel lonely again, spread through your body and sent warm shock waves into your limbs.

He trembled in you, clearly enjoying the sensation of being enveloped by you and then bridged the last uncovered inches of his dick, fully filling you out until the hairs at his base tickled against your skin.

A moan broke from your lips as you felt the spongy tip of his head kiss a spot so deep within you.

After a few seconds of letting you adjust again, he began to move his hips, pulling out almost fully only to snap his hips against yours again.

He sat a pace that kept him on edge and almost sent you into your next orgasm. When he added a finger to your clit, swift motions flicking against it, you had to ground yourself by gripping the sheets to not immediately give into your release.

Sweat beaded from his forehead and mingled with yours.

“You’re so perfect,” he gasped, as he pumped into you, “So fucking perfect.”

You felt lightheaded and fought to come undone so quickly, but his praise made your velvety walls flutter, and you knew he could feel it.

“So fucking amazing,” he whispered, now almost teasingly as he increased the pressure on your clit, dragging the mix of your wetness and his precum across the sensitive nerves.

“J-James,” you hiccupped, holding onto his shoulders.

He silenced you with a kiss, wet and sloppily dragging his lips against yours while keeping intense pressure on your clit.

“Come for me,” he panted, “I know you want to, doll.”

A sound that you didn’t even know you could make parted your lips as his words pushed you over the edge, while he relished in the feeling of you tightening around him. Blinding white lights filled your vision as you rode out your second orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured into your ear as the aftershocks of your release coursed through your body.

He increased his pace, hips snapping back and forth against you and as he saw your eyes, glazy with satisfaction, he let himself go.

You could feel his spent coating your walls, painting your insides with his cum while he groaned, lips pressed against yours.

He sank onto you, careful not to squeeze you under him and closed his eyes while he caught his breath.

With your head still in the clouds, you caressed his back until he declined onto the mattress, pulling you snug against his chest.

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[thedollydiaries]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[fireinmoonshot]

about love | joaquin torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquin thinks taking the engagement ring he's bought for you on a mission with him is a good idea – it's definitely safer with him than it is anywhere else, right? Well... until he loses it. Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries (a bump on the head) Word Count: 4k A/N: Had this idea at work yesterday and thought it was so Joaquin so I had to write it. I'm so happy with how it turned out. Thank you for all the love on my Joaquin fics so far – I have more coming for sure, I have so many ideas in a note on my phone, as well as the requests you guys have sent in! 💗

“Woohoo! That was awesome!” Joaquin yells, his feet finally hitting the ground after being airborne for what feels like hours. He misses the feeling of flying already. “Did you see me?” He asks Sam, walking towards him.

Sam has just landed not too far away from him and is already sighing at the sound of Joaquin’s voice. “See what?”

“When I did the thing with the thing! And then I did the other thing and bam! He was falling out of the sky! I saw him land in the water and it did not look like a nice landing!” Joaquin explains, in probably the poorest possible terms.

For a second, Sam just stares at Joaquin. How is this the man that he’s basically picked to be the Falcon to his Cap? “Nothing about what you just said makes sense, bro.”

“Yeah, it does!” Joaquin insists. “I did the thing!”

Sam and Joaquin had been expecting this mission for weeks. Everything pointed towards things turning into a fight, but the location and time had been left to chance and eventually, things had turned out just as they’d expected. They hadn’t expected having to fight over the water, though. Sam was just glad things hadn’t turned out the way that they had the last time they’d fought over the top of the ocean.

“Just… go and get checked out by a medic,” Sam orders – the Air Force had been standing by, ready to help if Sam and Joaquin needed it. They luckily hadn’t. “You almost got hit out there. Don’t forget that I saw that.” 

Joaquin grins to himself as he watches Sam walk off, holding his shield by his side. “Come on, that was awesome, bro! And it was an almost hit – they didn’t even graze me!” 

“Tell that to your girlfriend!” Sam yells in reply.

At the reminder of you, Joaquin pauses. The ring. His hands move to the pocket where he’d placed the ring box before the mission and his heart drops into his stomach when he finds it empty.

“No, no, no, no…” 

Joaquin checks every other pocket in his suit, trying to keep hopeful for as long as possible, but it becomes clear very quickly that the ring box is no longer in his suit or even on his body at all anymore. This was not good… if it fell out during the mission… over the ocean… there was no way he was getting it back. Oh, he's so screwed.

He’d been planning to propose to you for over a month now but it had taken him a while to find the perfect ring. He’d scoured the internet and just about every jewellery shop in the city to find one he knew you’d love. When he and Sam left for the mission, he knew he had to take it with him. There was no other choice. What if his apartment was broken into while he was away and they stole the ring? Or worse, what if you came over to his place to get something of yours that you’d left behind and found it? It’d ruin the surprise.

In hindsight, Joaquin realises that maybe the ring would’ve been safer at home… instead of where it likely is now, sitting on the bottom of the ocean or… swallowed by a whale or something… poor whale…

The excitement at the success of the mission is long gone by the time he trudges his way to the medic, who is waiting to see him. He removes his suit slowly and carefully, all the while hoping that the ring will suddenly appear in one of the pockets, but it never does.

Later, as Joaquin sits in his hotel room, he can’t tear his eyes away from the confirmation email he’d received when he’d ordered your ring. It’d ended up being one he found online, but with a few custom alterations to make it more you. The ring was one of a kind, like he’d intended for it to be, because so were you. It made him even more disappointed that he’d never end up getting to give it to you. And now he had to fork out even more money to find a replacement. He knows nothing would ever live up to the original, even if you loved it.

His phone buzzes in his hands and your contact photo pops up on the screen, one he’d taken of you when you hadn’t been looking at him. He’s quick to accept the call, already feeling comforted by your voice the second you say hello.

“How did it go!?” You ask, voice full of joy. “I saw some footage on the TV. You guys looked so awesome out there. It’ll never get old, seeing you flying in that suit, even if it kinda fills me with dread that something might happen to you.”

Joaquin laughs softly. “Thanks, angel. It was good. We won.”

Just by his short reply you can tell that something is wrong. Even though you’re in an entirely different state and you can’t see his face, the fact that he’d not excitedly recounting every single detail of the battle to you says more than his words ever could.

“Joaquin, what’s wrong?” You’re not one to beat around the bush.

“Huh? Nothing’s wrong, angel. I’m just tired.”

“You’re usually so excited after a successful mission and today you sound the complete opposite. Did something happen?” A thought enters your mind. “Wait, did you get hurt? Are you in the hospital?” He hears shuffling on the other end of the line. “Have they got you hopped up on some kind of painkillers?”

Joaquin can’t help but smile a little. “Angel, stop trying to put your shoes on and pack a bag at the same time. I’m not in the hospital, I’m in my hotel room. And I’m not on any painkillers. The medics checked me after the mission and gave me the all clear.”

You pause. “How did you know I was trying to put my shoes on and pack a bag?”

“Cause I know you, that’s how,” he smiles to himself. “You get the thought in your head that I’m hurt and you’re already looking up flights. I’d be the same way if things were reversed, believe me.”

Back in your apartment, you kick off the one shoe you’d managed to get on and sit back down on the couch. “So why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Joaquin sighs. How can he tell you what’s wrong? That he’s actually devastated cause he lost the ring he was planning on proposing to you with? He can’t. He hates lying, especially when it comes to you, and now he’s being forced to lie to you because of his own mistake.

“I promise nothing is wrong, angel,” Joaquin tries to make his voice sound less sad. “I really am just tired. It takes a lot out of you, fighting in a battle like that. It’s one thing to be flying in a plane but to actually be the one flying… it’s a lot. I’ve still got a lot to get used to. I’m just ready for a solid twelve hour sleep.”

“Oh.” You’re not really convinced but for Joaquin’s sake, you decide to drop it. You can already tell that you’re not going to get anything else out of him. “Well, I suppose I’ll let you get your rest then if you’re that tired. You’re flying home tomorrow, right?”

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, my flight leaves at… four? Six? Something around then. Thank you for calling though, angel. Really. I always love getting to hear your voice before I fall asleep.”

You smile at the way you can audibly hear the happiness in his voice. “Any time, Joaquin. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? You get a good night sleep and I’ll text you in the morning. I love you.”

“Love you too, angel.”

With that, you end the call and Joaquin groans, letting his phone fall onto the bed and his head back onto the pillow behind him. Instead, though, his head bashes rather hard onto the wall behind the bed. He grunts in pain, a hand going to the back of his head to rub the sore spot. Yeah… that’s gonna leave a bump for sure… he probably deserves it…

It’s a few hours later and Joaquin is finally about to give up on staying awake and finally try and get some sleep when he hears a knock on the door of his room. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to pull himself up from the bed, his whole body aching from the activity of the day. When he pulls open his door, he’s more than surprised to see Sam on the other side.

“Listen, bro, I’m way too tired to have a post-mission debrief and drinks or something, so can we just do this in the morning?” Joaquin asks, already knowing Sam would prefer it.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Sam says. “Can I come in?”

Joaquin stifles a yawn and steps aside to let Sam into the room, closing the door behind him. Sam takes a seat at the small table and chairs over by the window and Joaquin takes the seat opposite him, not wanting to be disrespectful by sitting on the bed like he would much prefer to do – the chairs are not padded and not comfortable in the slightest.

“What’s up, Sam?” Joaquin questions, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sam shoves a hand into the pocket of his jacket and removes a small blue velvet box and slides it across the table towards Joaquin. He almost jumps out of his seat at the sight of it, instantly snatching it up and opening it. He sighs in relief as he sees the ring, safely inside the box, completely unharmed. 

“Bro, what the hell!?” Any of the exhaustion that was in Joaquin’s body is gone as he looks across the table at Sam. “Did you send someone to retrieve this or something? A dive team? How did you even know that I’d lost it?”

Sam smiles a little at the younger boys excitement. “Maybe this might teach you to secure your valuables a little better, hey?” He shakes his head. “It didn’t even make it to the ocean, Joaquin. It fell out of your pocket before we were even in the air. I saw it, picked it up. Decided to keep it safe.”

He knew that if he’d given it back to Joaquin then that it would be all he’d focus on for the mission. He’d be berating himself so strongly that he’d almost lost the ring that he wouldn’t be able to give his full attention to the mission. Sam had watched Joaquin get hurt before and if he had his way, he’d never see it again. 

“And it took you this long to give it back to me!? Bro, do you realise what this is? How important this is? How could you keep this from me?” Joaquin’s voice is raised but he isn’t angry – he’s still angry at himself for losing it in the first place. He’s more than grateful to Sam for keeping it safe, but now that he’d lied to you over the phone about it… all of that could have been avoided if Sam had given it to him sooner.

Sam sighs and leans back in his chair. “Damn, these things are uncomfortable,” he mutters. “Listen, your girl sent me a text like an hour ago. She was asking if you were okay or if you were hurt, if anything went badly in the mission, cause she said she called you and you were acting all weird. I only remembered then that I even had it. I put it in my suit to keep it safe during the mission. I realised that the reason you must’ve been acting weird was cause you realised that you’d lost it.”

“And it took you an hour to come down two floors to give it back?”

“Nah, it took me an hour of thinking to decide whether to give it back to you tonight or give it back to you in the morning, Joaquin,” Sam admits. “This… this is a serious thing you’re planning on doing. You know that, right? I know it’s not my place but I just… I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Joaquin furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I know what I’m doing, Sam.”

“That came out wrong,” Sam huffs, then tries again. “I’m sure you have thought this out, but I just wanted to check in. You’re a public figure now. People know you’re the Falcon, they see you coming out on missions with me. People might target you now in an attempt to get to me. Your life is in more danger than it ever has been before. Even when you were serving in the Air Force full time. You sure your girl knows that too?”

One thing that Joaquin has always been confident about with you is that you knew the risks of dating him. You’d started dating him back when he was in the Air Force, long before he became Falcon. Throughout it all, you’d stuck by his side, even when he wondered if you wouldn’t. When people started commenting on his Instagram photos saying rather unsavoury things, or leaving rude comments about you, he wondered if it would scare you away from him. But it never did. You were completely loyal to him and he knew it. If you were affected by his job as the Falcon that much, you would’ve ended things long ago.

But you didn’t. You’d started making plans to move in with him instead, as soon as the lease on your apartment was up in two months time. You’d come over more often, spent more nights at his apartment. You’d made changes to your own life to accommodate his ever changing schedule. You were in this for real.

“She knows,” Joaquin nods. “I wouldn’t be asking her to marry me if she didn’t.”

Sam lets out a breath. “Okay, well… good. I just… I wanted to check. Make sure you weren’t rushing into things or asking her for some reason other than love.”

Joaquin smiles a little. He’s known for a long time that Sam is full of heart but this has reminded him. Despite all the sarcastic comments and jokes they make, Sam probably has a bigger heart than Joaquin himself. 

“Everything I do when it comes to her is about love, Sam, I promise you that.”

Not long after, Sam excuses himself and leaves the room, leaving Joaquin alone with the ring. The one he thought he’d lost forever, now sitting here on the table in front of him. Not a scratch or a lick of damage anywhere on it. Sam had done a good job taking care of it.

He crosses the room to grab his phone, still sitting on the bed where he’d left it, and sends you a quick text. Angel, you still awake?

Your reply comes almost instantly. You okay?

Joaquin sits down on the edge of his bed, eyes resting on the ring box on the table, and smiles. You got a spare thirty minutes to call so I can tell you all about how badass I was in the mission today? 

During the plane journey home, Joaquin decides that he needs to propose sooner rather than later. He doesn’t want to risk losing the ring again or something else happening to it. It’s why, when he gets back to his apartment, he calls you and asks if he can come over to your apartment the next night – he’ll bring some takeout for dinner. He’s more than relieved when you say yes, telling him you can’t wait.

But then the night comes and Joaquin is sitting beside you on your couch, your now empty takeout containers sitting on the coffee table in the centre of the room. He feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest with how nervous he is, but he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at holding it together.

Joaquín takes a deep breath and turns to face you, clasping his hands together in his lap to force himself not to prematurely reach for the ring box in his jacket pocket. “So, I think I owe you an explanation for why I was weird on that phone call two days ago.”

You look at him, eyebrows raised. “Do you? I thought you were just tired. You ended up calling me back and talking about the mission with me so I thought it was all sorted.”

“It is sorted, but… well, I kind of lied to you in the first call,” he winces a little, hating to have to admit it to you even though he knows you’re not going to care once he explains everything properly. “Something happened after the mission and it really messed with my head but I couldn’t tell you about it then.”

He can see by the look on your face that you’re concerned about what he’s going to say. He hates worrying you like this and he doesn’t mean to drag it out so much but he’s also so nervous about what he’s about to do that he can’t help but stall.

“Joaquin, just tell me. Please.”

Your voice is small, full of a sudden fear, and just the simple act of hearing that is the encouragement that Joaquin needs to push him forward to do this, to tell you the truth and pull the ring box out of his pocket with a long, deep breath. 

“I took this with me on the mission to make sure nothing happened to it, but after the mission I realised that it had fallen out of my suit and I’d lost it,” Joaquin starts. His heart is in his throat at admitting all this to you and thinking about what is coming. “Turns out Sam had actually picked it up when it fell out prior to the mission. He came and gave it back to me after you texted him that you were worried about me.”

At seeing the ring box in his hands, tears immediately come to your eyes. This was what you were so worried about? You were so scared about what Joaquin was about to say, worried that some of your deep fears might be coming true, but instead it was your dreams that were coming true. 

You watch as Joaquin slowly moves from sitting on the edge of the couch to kneeling on the floor in front of you. He flips the ring box open, finally letting you lay eyes on the ring inside of it, and a sob erupts from you.

“I was gonna try and do this in a better way,” Joaquin chuckles. “I had all these ideas for plans of things to do, but in the end I decided that I just wanted it to be between us. I didn’t want anyones eyes on us while I did this, cause this is our moment.” He’d almost booked several restaurants, even almost booked flights to Paris to propose in front of the Eiffel Tower, but this was better than any of the plans he could’ve come up with. 

“I told Sam when he came to talk to me after you texted him that everything I do when it comes to you is about love,” he continues with a shaky breath. “You are the love of my life, angel. You have been ever since I first met you and I intend on loving you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me.” The words, which Joaquin had expected to be difficult to say when the time came, flow out of him with so much ease it surprises him. “So, I suppose what I should finally ask, since I know you’re thinking about how much you wish I would just ask the question and stop talking about everything else… is… will you marry me?”

You’re on the floor in front of him before Joaquin can even blink and in his next breath, your arms are wrapped around him, pressing your body to his. He laughs, a little shocked, as he wraps one of his arms around you, still holding the ring in the other hand. He can tell that you’re crying but he already knows they’re happy tears without having to see them. 

“So… is that a yes?” He asks, grinning.

“Of course it’s a yes!” You exclaim, pulling away from him. The look on his face makes you fall in love with him all over again. The way he’s smiling at you sets butterflies off in your stomach. “Will you put the ring on me?”

You extend your hand and Joaquin wastes no time in removing the ring from the box and sliding it onto your ring finger. He can’t keep smiling and his face is starting to hurt but he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with a sore face from smiling forever if it means seeing you this happy. The fact that he is the reason behind this smile makes him smile even harder.

“It’s so beautiful, Joaquin,” you marvel, unable to take your eyes off of it. 

“Just like the woman wearing it,” he says, unable to help himself. “I’m just glad I didn’t actually lose it in the middle of the ocean. I was just about ready to start a dive team to find it before Sam gave it back.”

You meet his eyes and laugh, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot, Joaquin Torres.”

“I might be, but at least I’m your idiot,” he grins.

With a smile, you lean forward and press your lips to his, wrapping one of your hands around the back of his neck. He kisses you back instantly, arms wrapping around you to hold you close. When your fingers make their way into his hair, though, he grunts a little in pain as they brush against the bump on the back of his head. He’d forgotten about that.

You pull away, eyes concerned. “Are you hurt? Did you get hurt on the mission?” 

Joaquin is quick to confirm that he isn’t. “I hit my head when I was in the hotel… this is so embarrassing to admit,” he laughs softly. “When I was still sad cause I thought I’d lost the ring, I leant back and hit the wall… a little harder than I intended to. I guess it left a bump… but it doesn’t mean you have to stop kissing me, y’know…”

Thankfully, you accept his poor reasoning for his sore head and kiss him again, your fingers moving out of his hair and instead resting on his shoulders. He’s already counting down the days till his head is fully healed – he loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

After that, you only break apart for air when you really need to.

“So… this means I can call you my fiancée now…” Joaquin mutters against your lips.

“Oh, that’s true… fiancé… I like how that sounds,” you hum in reply.

“I’m one step closer to being able to call you my wife now,” he says, smiling.

“Hold your horses, Joaquin,” you laugh, pulling away from him despite your desire to stay as close to him as humanly possible. “Let me be a fiancée for a while, okay? Now,” you lean back against the couch. “Tell me all about how you lost this beautiful ring of mine and how it happened to come into Sam’s possession… and then we’re gonna call him and thank him for keeping it safe when my fiancé couldn’t.”

Joaquin laughs, leaning against the couch beside you and reaching down to take your hand in his, his fingers spinning the new ring around on your finger. “You’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?”

“Oh, baby, even our great-great-grandchildren will know about this.”

[lollixp0p]

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[the-librarby]

FANCY SEEING YOU HERE

- DANTE SPARDA (DMC)

Riding that bandwagon, don’t ask me about my dmc credentials.

Part two Part three Part four

It had been a simple induction process, a quick cash grab of a job opportunity. Nothing too hard about a receptionist job, right?

Wrong.

What your boss failed to tell you is that he had no fucking idea what he was doing. Or really, he did, but then too many contracts started rolling in for his system to continue working. Which is where you came in, it took a few months but everything has finally been streamlined. Clients rolled in, and you assigned them to the relevant hunter.

It had been a quiet morning, as far as quiet can be when you got a text from your boss, Enzo. Enzo didn’t contact you much, you pretty much had everything handled, as he would say, so he would only check in when there was a major change or someone returning to the roster. This was no different.

Dante is dropping in. Major mission wrapped up. Look after yourself he’s a handful.

You squinted, Dante is a new name you haven’t seen before meaning he’s a new, or old, hunter you haven’t met yet. You’ve met plenty of hunters that were a handful, so the text didn’t throw you off that much, you just made a note of it and moved on about your day.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that your door burst open abruptly, door handle smacking loudly into the wall. Now this pissed you off, because you had just finally got the message across to all hunters that you did not appreciate their barbaric manners, and it seems one hunter missed the memo.

Before the hunter’s red leather trench could settle, you flicked your finger towards the door, “Out.”

The hunter paused, frozen in his place. You watched as he scanned his surroundings, taking in the new office which you have basically personalised to your tastes considering Enzo never really did anything with it. After a cursory glance to disarm his scepticism, he looked at you. Taking your features and finally registering what you said.

“What?” He blurted.

“Get out.” You repeated, sterner.

“Do I have the right place? Where’s Enzo?” He swung his head behind the door as if checking a hiding place.

You pointed at the door once again, before looking back at your computer, “You must be Dante,” you could see him perk up from over the frame of your glasses, “I can answer all your questions, but not until you enter my office with some respect,”

“Your office? This isn’t—”

You glanced up at him momentarily, refusing to humour him any longer. Having sense this, he laughed in disbelief.

“Listen doll, I just came back from a long ass mission, I am not in the mood for mind games,”

You leaned back in your chair, and smiled, “Manners aren’t a mind game, and I don’t feel like fucking around with your attitude just because you’re tired,”

As if bitten by your response, he stepped back and crossed his arms, really staring you down now. It was only about a minute but it felt like ten before he started retreating. You watched him walk back out of your office, the door clicking in place as he left. You crossed your arms over your chest, a full moment passes before you hear it.

A knock at your door.

This makes you smile, finding it almost impossible to consider that a knock could hold an attitude. You make him wait, shuffle a few papers around before sitting back, crossing one leg over the other.

“Come in,” you chime.

The white haired hunter steps through once again, with careful grace this time, he keeps his eyes glued to you as he softly closes the door behind him. Making a sarcastic demonstration of it, yes, but most certainly looking for your approval as he does so.

Finally you stand from your chair, even with the desk separating you, the height difference is stark. You outstretch your hand, “You must be Dante, Enzo told me you’d be arriving today. How was the mission?”

He looked at your hand, then back at you, “Successful, if a bit boring,” he accepts your hand, holding on long enough to make you a tad uneasy. “Who are you?”

You pull away but only because he loosens his grip, “Enzo’s receptionist,”

At this, Dante bursts into laughter, clutching onto his stomach as if you have said the most hilarious thing in the world. This grates on your nerves slightly, not seeing humour in your statement.

After a moment he stands, wiping a tear, “A receptionist? Enzo’s receptionist? I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s not funny. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Enzo?” He sniffles, “Sleezy, short little man Enzo? The same guy that can barely manage himself let alone staff.”

You point to the chair in front of your desk, he follows your gesture as you walk around to meet him, sitting on the corner adjacent to him.

You smile, humoured, “The very same if you can believe it,”

“I can’t,” he interjects, looking around the room once more, “I can see you’ve done a lot with the place, maybe I was away longer than I thought. Is Enzo respectable now?”

You snort, “Not at all,”

He chuckles, taking a deep breath before relaxing back into his seat. You watch as his shoulders unwind, leg crossing over his knee as his hands clutch together in his lap. It’s now that you can finally see him without obstructed view. He’s wearing fingerless leather gloves, a long red leather trench, by all means should be uncomfortable with how it hugs his biceps, but makes it seem like the most comfortable thing in the world. This thighs fill out his heavy black pants, honestly, it’s hiding nothing.

A cough breaks you out of your trance, only to bring you back with a knowing smile, “Do I get an introduction too?”

You smirk, crossing your arms over your chest, “Already? I was starting to get used to the pet names,”

His eyes seem to spark, something igniting in him. He leans forward inquisitively, “Really? That do it for you, doll?”

Before you can respond, your office phone starts to ring, it’s an old dingy landline because Enzo refuses to upgrade something unless it’s disintegrated. You lean back to reach for it behind you. Dante zeros in on your outstretched thighs before him at your distraction, he almost drools at the way your skirt rides slightly up your stockings as you grab the phone off the hook.

He can faintly hear you talking as he watches the way you absently rub your thighs together, “At seven? Where? Do I get paid overtime?” He watches as your fingers wrap around the cord, a playful smile on your lips, “Alright, just checking. Yeah I’ll be there.”

You look over at him, only to see him already looking back with a quirked eyebrow, “Yeah, he’s here,” a frown creases your eyebrows, “Yes, here, as in sitting in my office, what else could I mean? Alright give me a sec.”

Dante watches as you pull the phone away from your ear and stretch it out towards him, “For you, sweetheart,” you wink.

Oh, he’s going to have so much fun with you. He smirks, standing up in the minimal space between you and the desk. Only because he’s concerned the phone line won’t reach, thighs bumps together as his hand envelops yours, bringing the receiver to his ear.

You frown in confusion, your hand caught like a fish on a line as he makes you hold the phone against his ear. He’s staring at you with a smile, you’re so close that you can hear the conversation.

“Dante! How’s my favourite son? Back from the mission in one piece I hear,”

Dante hums, adjusting closer as he speaks, “Yep, all pieces are accounted for. The important ones anyway,”

Enzo cackles at the sleazy joke, “Have you met my new receptionist? That’s right, I’m moving on up in the world, a real business man I am Dante,”

His eyes flick towards yours, holding contact as he responds, “Yeah, she’s a real doll, a stickler for hospitality,”

You roll your eyes, kicking his shin in retaliation, without flinching his hand rests above your knee to cease your jerking like a parent would to a child.

“ Treat her well Dante, she’s the only person holding down the fort for me, if you scare her away I won’t forgive you until I see you grovelling for forgiveness,” he threatens, “Her forgiveness.”

This warms your heart, you’ve come to like Enzo in all his incompetent ways, it’s nice to hear him talk about you so fiercely towards others.

Dante sighs, his hand moving from your knee to the desk beside your thighs. You’re caged in now with your hand against his ear, and his body leaned in close. You can only lean so far back without compromising your position.

“No getting rid of her then huh? Guess I’ll have to get comfortable.”

You’re only half listening to the conversation now, having been distracted by the amulet hanging in front of you. Its ruby gem swings gently in the open space of Dante’s shirt, when he leans forward you catch a glimpse further underneath. He’s built, from what you can tell even with his heavy layers, but he’s not the biggest hunter you’ve seen. Something under the surface has your senses on edge though, like there’s more to him that you’re not seeing, yet.

A gentle pinch to your thigh has you clueing back in. Dante is looking at you with a knowing smirk, as he hums into the receiver, “I’ll be there. Can’t believe you’re putting me to work already, I should call Human Resources. This is an unfair workload.”

“Yada, yada, yada. You know you’re my favourite, now make papa proud, I’ll text ya later.”

Dante straightens up as the call ends, letting you put the phone back on its hook. You look up at him from your seated place on the desk, thighs still pressed against each other, in an act of misplaced confidence, you reach up to flick a piece of imaginary dust off his jacket.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you in action tonight,” you muse.

Dante hums, “You can see me in action a lot sooner if you’d like.”

You shove him back before he can place his hands on you, “Don’t be crude,” you hop off your desk, shifting your skirt back down your legs, “I’ll meet you there? 7pm sharp at the front doors,”

He nods, “7pm sharp at the front doors,” he reiterates, walking towards your office exit, before he leaves he looks over his shoulder at you, “Wear something nice, something that will make the other men jealous of me. Can’t be that hard right?”

You roll your eyes. When the door clicks shut behind him, you exhale deeply. You had a feeling this mission was going to get way out of hand.

[mggslover]

spencer comforting you on your period

In which your dinner plans with your boyfriend spencer get ruined by your period, but he comforts you that any time spent with you is worth it. genre fluff x comfort cw moody and emotional reader, mention of eating habits during period, reader feeling blegh and insecure, mention of blood stain, spencer being a sweet and understanding bf, sappy and domestic wc 2,3k

Today was not your day.

You had known from the minute you woke up. It was a feeling you couldn’t quite place, but every bone in your body screamed at you to roll back around in the sheets. And so you did.

The universe had blessed this feeling to occur on a free Sunday. You would’ve loved to be productive, to clean the windows — a task you didn’t do often enough because life gets in the way — to meal prep your favorite lunch for the upcoming week, or to answer some emails to give yourself a head start on work. 

But none of that happened. 

You put your phone back on the nightstand, and sleep pulled you under for another two hours. When you woke up, you scrolled through some TikToks — ignoring Spencer’s voice that echoed in your mind, telling you how doom scrolling influences your mood and shortens your attention span drastically. Basically telling you that your actions will turn you into some brainless zombie. 

Not feeling that hungry yet, you pulled your pillow over your face and drifted off again. 

When you woke up for the third time that day, there was a brief moment where you thought that you did, in fact, turn into a zombie. The ones that appeared in The Walking Dead and were overcome by one emotion: hunger. Due to a lack of humans or brains in your fridge, you settled on a frozen pizza. Your appetite was stilled, but now your mind seemed to process the load of other emotions you were feeling. After a cry sesh (that you would not admit to Spencer was caused by watching videos of rescued puppies on TikTok), you found your way back to bed — again.

It was 5PM when you smiled for the first time that day, hearing your melodic ringtone accompanied by the name Spence ♡ on your phone screen. 

Swiping your finger, you opened the call. The engine of the jet roared in the background, together with some muffled talking and a repeated shushing that could be no other than your boyfriend.

“Hey, Spence,” you start the conversation, a giddy smile on your face.

“Hi!” he chirped happily, then cleared his throat. “Can you hear me? I’m on the jet.”

“Hearing you loud and clear, Doctor.”

You knew that if you were with him right now, you’d catch the faint blush blossoming on his cheeks.

“I have good news,” he announced after a moment. 

You sit up on the bed, pressing the phone closer to your ear. Spencer was away with his team to catch an unsub that had escaped prison by digging a tunnel in the ground that went on for miles. You remember when Spencer had told you about the case a month ago — how you clung on to every word, while holding his hand in your sweaty palm as your heartbeat raced, knowing your boyfriend was to face this dangerous and meticulous psychopath. 

“You finally got him?”

He beamed. “We got him, sweetheart.”

Spencer walked you through the last couple of days, and yes, while it was clear that the team worked well together, they never would’ve found the unsub in time if it wasn’t for Spencer. His insights hadn’t only been brilliant, something that was to be expected from him, but genius. 

Spending most of your days without having him at home was tough, but all those frustrations always vanished whenever he told you stories like these. Your heart swelled with pride, and if you could kiss him through the phone, you would. 

“I thought we could celebrate tonight,” he said. “I’m landing in two hours. We could go to that fancy new Thai place downtown.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you murmured. You adored his colleagues, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel out of place during their intense and detailed FBI talks — ones you had no clue what to contribute to.

“You won't be. It’s just the two of us.”

Your heart did a leap, and you bit back a smile, even though there was no one to hide it from in the solitude of your room.

“Okay,” you smiled, trying to keep your voice neutral and not show how pleased you were that it would just be the two of you.

“Hey pretty girl, not feeling in the mood for me today?”

Damn profilers.

“Hi, Derek,” you chuckle. “No offense to you, I just missed my very handsome and very smart boyfriend.”

Derek scoffed at the other side of the line. “You’re feeding his ego too much.”

“Oh, he deserves it. You know that,” you remind him. “I bet you haven’t complimented him yet, have you?”

As clearly as you could picture Spencer’s amused smirk, you saw Derek’s signature eye roll in the back of your mind. 

“You heard that?” Spencer asked after some muffled exchanges of words in the background.

You responded with a proud mhm. 

“Will you be ready when I pick you up?’

You nodded. “Count on it.”

♡

Well, that was a lie. Not a little, white one, but a big, fat lie.

Two hours seemed like a plentiful time. There were days where you had gotten ready in twenty minutes. So the first hour you spent — you’ve guessed it — doom scrolling on your phone. 

Getting out of your bed an hour later was harder than expected. Your happy mood had tumbled down the second Spencer had hung up the call, and it seemed like it had created a snowball effect where everything went wrong after the other. 

Starting out with a pimple on your face that you had sworn wasn’t there when you looked into the mirror yesterday. Trying to keep a positive mindset, you opened your makeup drawer. Things seemed to be looking up as you covered your face in powders, and you were almost done with applying all your products, when your arm made a sudden movement. Your eyeliner has created a sleek wing on your face instead of on your eyelid. And to make matters worse, you jumped up in panic, making you drop the liner so that the black tip fell down your elegant, ruby-colored top, marking a line you wished was washable.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Any logical-thinking person in your situation would’ve calmly made their way over to the sink and wiped the spot clean. You, however, were too wrapped up in panic to think straight, and instead yanked the top off your body and sprinted toward the closet. 

Opening the closet doors, you came to the realization that your side looked tragically empty. You had done a big cleanup when moving in with Spencer, giving away lots of items in the hopes of a fresh start. It was the plan to go on a shopping spree, but because of the lack of dates you and Spencer had — blaming his demanding job — you were now faced with only one option left: a deep sapphire dress. 

It is Spencer’s favorite. His eyes always doubled in size, and his adam’s apple would bob whenever he saw the smooth fabric hugging your curves. The dress made you feel confident — sexy, even. So you didn’t expect to feel the complete opposite when you looked in the mirror.

The dress clung to you in all the wrong places. It did not give the wow factor it usually gives; instead, you were overcome with insecurities, even noticing flaws you had never picked up on before. 

Your throat tightened, and you tried to swallow the lump away. Tried to blink the building tears away.  But to no success. Rather dramatically you lowered yourself to the ground with a defeated sigh, leaning against the mattress of your bed and wrapping your arms around your knees.

Today was not your day. It was too much. And you felt incredibly stupid for feeling that way. Your boyfriend had spent restless nights — plural — cracking his mind over a case, only being fed on caffeine. Saving lives. Making a change. And now he’s on his way to take you out to dinner. And what were you doing? Crying away your messed-up makeup and not being on time. Not even achieving the one single thing your boyfriend had asked of you.

Punctual as always, the front door of the apartment opened with a creak. 

“Are you ready, baby?” Spencer’s voice called from the living room. “Restaurants usually get busiest around seven. They have a special this week, so if we want to get the window seat I know you will like, we have two more minutes to leave. One and a half if you’ll be wearing heels.”

His words only made you cry harder. When he entered the room — wearing a nice button-up he must’ve packed just in case there’d be something to celebrate — his puppy dog eyes landed on you, frowning at your figure. 

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, not even daring to face him.

“Hey,” he softly cooed, walking up to you and crouching to be at eye level. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I’m not ready,” you sniffled. “I look like a mess. I am a mess.” 

Spencer brushes your hair out of your face, his warm palms gently cupping both cheeks as he makes you look up at him. “You’re not a mess. That’s nothing we can’t fix in a couple of minutes,” he encourages as he uses his thumb to swipe away the eyeliner stain on your cheek. 

“We don’t have a couple of minutes. The window seat will be taken.”

“We’ll figure something out, angel,” he reassured, before a silly grin formed on his face. “I can do some flashing around with my badge, hm? That will work.”

A breathy chuckle escaped your throat, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly. You gathered the courage to meet his gaze. You were no profiler, but his soft eyes told you everything: that he didn’t mind, that it was okay. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated in apology, your voice calmer now. “This was supposed to be your day, and I ruined it.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around you, hugging you to his chest and pressing a kiss on top of your head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I know your period can be much.”

Period.

Period.

Of course. 

How is it that the same occurrence happens every month for most of your life, and still it manages to surprise you each time? Like puzzle pieces clicking together, you mentally retrace the events of today, the world slowly making sense again.

You let out a frustrated groan. “How did you figure that out before me?”

“You are two days early, so it doesn’t match the cycle I’ve been tracking. It makes sense that you didn’t catch on right away.” He was quiet for a moment, wanting to bring his next words as carefully as possible. “But the bloodstain on your thigh made things pretty clear.”

You couldn’t even process your surprise of Spencer casually confessing to tracking your cycle, as the last words left his mouth. Looking down at your lap, there indeed was a crimson-colored spot on your thigh. And on your dress. Oh no. 

Noting your anxiety before you could react, Spencer reached out to lock your wrists in his hands.

“Don’t panic,” he tutted. “I’ll put the dress in the washing machine, and you can focus on taking a warm shower and think about what food we can order.”

“But the restau—“

He tsked, catching you off guard. “Shower,” he repeated in one word, so as not to trigger any new thoughts in your mind. Just one word. One mission. Shower. 

♡

In the time you and Spencer had been dating, he’s never been wrong. And the steaming shower he suggested was, in fact, exactly what you needed.

Dressed in a cozy pajama set, you made your way back to the bedroom. Spencer had changed too,  dressed accordingly in a matching set as he lay on the bed, long legs crossed over each other, and an old-school paper menu held between his fingers.

Quietly you crawled into bed beside him, the mattress dipping beneath your weight as you snuggled up to Spencer’s side, humming as he had warmed the spot. 

You glanced over his shoulder at the menu. “That one,” you said, pointing at your go-to dish. 

Spencer hummed in approval. “Excellent choice, m’lady.”

“Ooh, new nickname,” you teased, running your fingers through his soft curls.

“It’s on theme, actually,” he grinned. “Because today we’ll be watching…” With a groan he leaned over the bed, hands reaching out and coming back up with three DvDs in hand.

“Medieval movies…” you finished the sentence, trying to sound cheerful, but it came out as more of a question.

Spencer didn’t catch on to the confusion that laced your tone; instead, he eagerly asked you which movie you preferred.

“I don’t mind, Spence. It’s your big day,” you answered genuinely.

He asked you once more if you were sure, but when you confirmed — and he was allowed to choose a movie — he was overcome with a giddy excitement that made your heart flutter. 

You truly didn’t know how you got so lucky. To be with a person that never raised his voice at you, who never judged you, who always took all of your feelings like they mattered. Because to him, they did. To him, you mattered. And as long as he could spend his time with you, he didn’t care when or where. 

He looked up at you, noticing you as you were staring at him, like he was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

“I’m so lucky you’re mine,” you whispered in adoration.

He leaned forward, cheeks heating as he pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Derek was right; you really feed my ego too much.”

“Maybe,” you agreed with a smirk. “But you better get used to it.”

[nerdycheol]

Hint. Hint. HINT!!!

Pairing: Lee Seokmin (DK) x Reader

Genre: College AU, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Crush

WC: ~2.5k

Lee Seokmin was either the dumbest person you had ever met or just truly, utterly clueless.

For months now, you had been dropping hints—glaring, neon-sign-worthy hints—but he still hadn’t caught on. It was ridiculous. Actually, no—it was painful.

How else were you supposed to let him know you liked him? Spell it out in the sky? Get a marching band to parade through campus?

Today, you were determined to make it even more obvious.

Hint #143: Movie Night

“You know,” you started, casually scrolling through Netflix as Seokmin sprawled out on your dorm bed beside you, “watching a movie together like this is basically a date.”

He snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Pfft, nah. Friends do this all the time.”

You shot him a look. “Yeah, but do friends do this?” You shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

Your heart thumped. Any second now, he’d get it—he had to.

Seokmin, the human golden retriever that he was, just hummed happily. “You’re so comfy, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes. “Seokmin. Be honest. Are you acting dumb or are actually dumb?”

He blinked. “What?”

You sat up, exasperated. “I’ve been dropping hints left and right, and you—” You pointed at his forehead. “Are. Not. Getting. It.”

He looked genuinely confused. “Hints? What hints?”

You gaped at him. “Oh my god.”

---

Hint #157: Borrow My Hoodie

One of the surefire ways to get a guy’s attention was the classic borrow his hoodie move. So when you saw Seokmin in his oversized, soft-as-a-cloud hoodie one morning, you knew what had to be done.

You tugged at his sleeve as he sat across from you in the campus café. “Hey, can I borrow your hoodie?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course! Are you cold?”

Success.

You pulled it over your head, inhaling the faint scent of his detergent and something undeniably him. “Wow, this is so comfy. I might just keep it forever.”

Seokmin grinned. “That’s fine, I have others!”

You sighed. “No, Seokmin. This is where you’re supposed to say, ‘If you keep my hoodie, you have to give me something in return.’”

His brows furrowed. “Like what?”

“Like…” You leaned forward, staring into his very soul. “A kiss, maybe?”

For a moment, just a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes. Then he laughed. “Ohhh, that’s funny! You almost got me there!”

You groaned, flopping onto the table. Why is he like this?

---

Hint #200: The Almost Confession

Enough was enough. If he couldn’t figure it out on his own, you were just going to have to spell it out for him.

The two of you were sitting on the campus lawn after class, enjoying the golden sunset. Seokmin stretched, his shirt riding up slightly, and you nearly forgot your entire train of thought.

No. Focus.

You took a deep breath. “Seokmin.”

“Hm?” He turned to you, all bright eyes and sunshine.

“I like—”

RIIING.

His phone buzzed loudly, and he scrambled to answer it. “Oh! Sorry, give me a sec—hello?”

You closed your eyes, mentally counting to ten. Of course.

When he finally ended the call, he turned back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

You exhaled. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

---

Hint #250: The Breaking Point

It was getting ridiculous. Everyone in your friend group knew you liked him. Even strangers could probably tell. Everyone except Lee Seokmin himself.

You decided to try one last time.

“Seokmin.” You stopped in the middle of the campus quad, grabbing his hand.

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I’d make a good girlfriend?”

He tilted his head. “Of course! You’d be amazing. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

You squeezed his hand tighter. “What if I wanted to be your girlfriend?”

Silence.

A beat passed. Then another. You watched as his brain visibly tried to process the words.

“…Wait. What?”

You groaned, pulling your hand away. “Seokmin. Oh my god.”

And then—finally—it clicked. His eyes widened, his mouth parting slightly in realization.

“Wait. Wait. Are you saying—”

“Yes!” you practically shouted. “I’ve been saying it for months!”

His face turned red. “You like me?!”

You threw your hands up. “YES, GENIUS.”

For a second, he just stared at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then, all at once, his face broke into the brightest, happiest smile you had ever seen.

“You like me?” he repeated, this time with so much joy that your frustration melted away.

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. “Yes, Seokmin. I like you. And I’ve been trying to tell you this entire time.”

He laughed—loud, full, and infectious—before suddenly wrapping you in a tight hug. “I like you too! I just… I didn’t know if you liked me back.”

“You—” You groaned, resting your forehead against his chest. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Seokmin grinned, holding you tighter. “So… does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend now?”

You pulled back just enough to look at him. “You better.”

And finally, finally, Lee Seokmin got the hint.

Bonus:

Jeonghan sighed, watching from a distance. “Took them long enough.”

Joshua nodded. “I was starting to think we’d have to force them into a closet or something.”

Seungkwan shook his head. “Nah, even then, Seokmin would probably think it was just ‘friend bonding.’”

And honestly? They weren’t wrong.

[levanterhaze]

── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader dirty talk, masturbation, fingering, face sitting, use of nicknames, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving).

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[5.1k words ]♡― i keep thanking you and saying how grateful i am for those of you who follow gameboy and always wait patiently for the next chapter. you make it worthwhile. i wanted to apologize for the delay, there was a lot going on in my life and i needed some space to try and sort it out. but even so, almost a month later, you're still supporting me and that makes me so happy! PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three] ♡ [part four] ♡ [part five]

They don't know how special you are They don't know what you've done to my heart They can say anything they want ' Cause they don't know about us

Then, like some cosmic reward for all your suffering, things started falling into place one after another, a perfect little domino effect.

First, Yeojin vanished after the party—poof, gone, like a bad subplot finally getting axed. One less headache for whatever this thing was between you and Bangchan. Changbin, bless him, looked downright relieved, muttering about how she was basically a walking red flag factory. You just nodded along, pretending to be appropriately neutral while secretly basking in the win.

Then, to top it all off, Seungmin landed the lead role in the play. You were so damn proud you could’ve cried—not that you would, obviously. You had a reputation to uphold. But still, he deserved it, and it felt good to see him shine.

But of course, life wasn’t going to let you just ride the high of that for too long. Because hiding whatever was going on with Bangchan? Yeah, that was getting harder by the day. It was like trying to keep a wildfire contained with a spray bottle.

It was late after class when he sent you a text—short, simple, with just enough implication to make your stomach do a nosedive. You knew exactly what it meant. And like the absolute fool you were, you didn’t even hesitate.

After finishing up your work for the day, you found yourself at his door, pulse already kicking up, knowing exactly what kind of chaos you were about to walk into.

You scoffed, smacking his hand away—weakly, because let’s be real, you didn’t really want him to stop. Bangchan just smirked, like he knew exactly how easy you were for him. Annoying.

“I swear, you’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, shifting on top of him, your thighs still shaky from earlier. His hands found your waist again, steadying you with that effortless, possessive grip that made your stomach flip.

“Not my fault you keep proving me right.” His voice was all slow and smug, and when he squeezed your hips, fingers digging in like he owned you, you had to bite back a noise that would’ve immediately ruined your whole tough-girl act.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “One day, your ego is gonna collapse under its own weight.”

Bangchan hummed, unimpressed. “And yet, you’re still sitting here. On top of me. In my shirt. Looking real comfortable, by the way.”

Okay, he had a point. You weren’t about to admit that, though.

You huffed and leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your palms. “Yeah, well. I was comfortable. But now you’re being annoying, so I should probably go.”

His arms tightened around your waist before you could even think about moving. “Mmm. Nope. Stay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got a real bad habit of telling me what to do.”

His lips curved, lazy and dangerous. “And you got a real bad habit of listening.”

Your breath came out shaky, but you still gave him a look, one eyebrow quirked. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Bangchan smirked, the kind of smirk that should come with a warning label. “Not when it comes to you.” His fingers curled inside you again, and you swore you saw stars.

Your hand clenched the fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself. “You talk too much,” you muttered, voice betraying you as it wavered.

He chuckled, slow and deep, the sound sliding down your spine like melted honey. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your body wanted to betray you—again. Your thighs trembled, heat curling low in your stomach, and you knew you were already done for.

Still, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. “You only say that to fuck me.”

Bangchan bit his lip, amusement flickering in his eyes before he rolled his hips up against yours, making you gasp. His fingers, still teasing, still ruining you, curled just right. “Fair enough.”

You barely had a second to process that before another wave of pleasure crashed into you. He had you—again—right where he wanted. And you hated how much you loved it.

His fingers moved like he knew you—like he had you mapped out, every weak spot memorized, every reaction anticipated before you could even process it yourself. It was infuriating. And unfair. And so, so good.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as a choked sound left your lips. "I hate you."

Bangchan grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his fingers never slowing. "Yeah?"

You nodded weakly, trying to not fall apart embarrassingly fast. "So much."

"Funny," he murmured, lips grazing your jaw now. "You feel like you love me right now."

Your breath hitched, an embarrassingly desperate whimper slipping out before you could stop it. Bastard. You would've cursed him out properly if your brain hadn't turned to static.

Bangchan's other hand slid up your back, holding you firmly against him as he kept working you over. "I could do this all night, baby," he muttered, voice low and smug. "But I don’t think you’d survive that, would you?"

You barely managed to shake your head, thighs shaking around his hand. Your nails dug into his skin, grasping at something—reality, control, maybe just him.

"Then give it to me," he coaxed, lips brushing yours, his voice thick with that tone. The one that sent you straight over the edge.

And you did. Hard.

“Like that...” he moaned, his voice all rough and wrecked as he watched you move in sync with him. “You're so good.”

Smug bastard.

You tried to open your eyes, tried to look at him, but that familiar, electric wave was already creeping up on you. The stretched fabric pressing against your skin, the way his fingers worked you like he had nothing better to do—it was all so damn much, teetering right on the edge of insanity.

“You’re an asshole...” you managed to bite out, sinking your teeth into your lip to keep the moan threatening to spill free.

Bangchan chuckled, low and pleased, and you felt it—right under your hands, vibrating through his chest like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Because of course he did.

And then—oh, fuck—his movements turned ruthless, all precision and pressure, sending you spiraling so fast your moans broke right out of you. Your head tipped back, your nails dug into his skin, and your whole body rocked with the force of it.

Somewhere through the haze, his voice curled around you, thick with need. “I want you to do something for me... Hm?”

His words barely registered past the white noise of your brain, but what did register? The way he sounded completely wrecked, the way his own pleasure was tangible in the air. And then there was the very, very obvious bulge tenting the thin sheet between you two, because of course he hadn’t even tried to hide it.

It was obvious. He wanted you to know.

Know what you did to him.

Know you were the one responsible.

You would’ve done anything he asked at that moment. You were right there when—out of nowhere—he stopped, completely shutting you down. The crash was brutal, like free-falling from the sky straight onto solid concrete.

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed, like you were trying to remember how breathing worked.

“Come here,” Bangchan said, dead serious.

You blinked, still catching up. “What…?”

He let out a sharp breath, clearly losing patience. “Fuck, I want you to sit here. I wanna taste you.”

And that’s when it clicked. He wanted you there. On his face.

Your hands slipped under the hem of his ridiculously loose shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin. Your face felt hot at his words. It’s not like you were some shy little girl scared of sex—far from it—but damn, Bangchan was direct. No hesitation, no second-guessing. And no one had ever treated you like this before, like your pleasure was the priority. It was all so new. And kind of insane.

“Uh—are you sure?” you needed to check that he wasn’t just caught up in some post-sex delirium. Because let’s be real—most guys just wanted a blowjob. Not this.

His jaw tightened, his hands twitching as they hovered over your body, already impatient. “Don’t make me ask you again.” his voice was raw, almost desperate, as he nudged you forward.

A shiver ran down your spine, excitement buzzing under your skin. Biting your lip, you moved in, knees sinking into the mattress as close to his lips as possible. His hands found your ass, guiding you effortlessly while you adjusted yourself.

“I think—” you started, but the words died in your throat the second his tongue hit. No warning, no teasing—just straight to it.

And holy fuck.

Your entire body lit up, a storm spreading from the inside out, consuming you whole.

His deep brown eyes locked onto yours, dark and hungry, and—Jesus—it was too much. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the sight of him, lips buried between your legs, savoring every inch of you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted?

Absolute. Heaven.

Bangchan worked his tongue like he had all the time in the world, licking, sucking, tasting every inch of you like he was starving. And the way he held your hips—tight, unyielding—made it clear you weren’t going anywhere. Every time you tried to pull back, leaning on the wall in some desperate attempt to escape the onslaught, he just forced you down, making you take it.

“I—I can’t!” you practically sobbed, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing relief and running from it at the same time.

His response, a low, satisfied hum that vibrated right against you. And then—with wicked precision—he pressed a hand against your clit, slow but relentless, while his tongue slipped inside, teasing, fucking you in a way that had your brain completely short-circuiting.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Your body dissolved, reduced to nothing but sweat, shivers, and the kind of pleasure that made your vision blur. Your moans were loud, raw, helpless—like you had no control over them anymore.

His lips never stopped moving, never stopped devouring, as you rocked against his mouth, riding his tongue with a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break. And then—just when you thought you had a grip on reality—his fingers found that spot, rubbing slow, intentional circles that sent you crashing over the edge.

You shattered. Completely.

A scream tore from your throat as the most intense orgasm of your life slammed into you like a damn avalanche, ripping everything in its path. For a few seconds, there was nothing—no sound, no thought—just feeling. A feral wave that dragged you under, leaving you breathless.

Bangchan held you through all of it, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Not letting you escape. Not letting you run from the pleasure he was so determined to give.

And fuck, you came hard, leaving him groaning against you, swallowing every drop like he lived for it.

With a smug, satisfied grin, Bangchan flipped the script—literally—rolling you onto the bed and hovering over you. His fingers brushed your hair out of your face, tracing the curve of your smile like he was memorizing it.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, still catching your breath, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

He chuckled, then dipped down, nipping at your breast before trailing his way up, capturing your mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. His tongue teased yours, making sure you tasted yourself, and god, it was so messy, so hot, you almost forgot how to think.

Your hands cradled his face, holding him there, as if letting go would snap you out of whatever daze this was. And then, out of nowhere, a thought barged into your mind, uninvited but very much there:

This—whatever this was—couldn’t just end.

Because beyond the mind-blowing sex, Bangchan was actually good to you. In a way that felt… different.

“Can I ask you something?” he blurted, his tone suspiciously casual.

You quirked a brow. 

“Depends.” pulling the sheet up to your chest, you met his gaze, unshaken. 

“Would you stay the night?”

“What?”

“I know it’s risky and you don’t want anyone finding out,” he said, already playing defense, “but I was thinking—order some food, put on a movie… I’ll behave. Promise.”

Your lips quirked as you tried to hold back a laugh. “Liar. Fine, I’ll stay.”

He studied you for a second, like he was waiting for the catch. “...you serious?”

“Mm-hm.” you reached up, grabbing his chin with playful authority before pulling him in for another kiss. “I’ll stay.”

The second the words left your lips, he lit up like a kid who just got handed his favorite candy. And as he got up, grinning like an idiot, something inside you clicked.

Maybe—just maybe—keeping things a secret wasn’t as important as you thought.

Bangchan was suspiciously decent. Like, shockingly so.

He helped clean up the mess you two had made of his sheets, let you use his shower, and even tossed you one of his shirts—which you absolutely did not sniff like some lovesick fool (except maybe a little). And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he got you fried chicken and fries for dinner while he debated which movie to put on.

Honestly? If this was his way of keeping you coming back, it was working.

You settled into bed, feeling weirdly at home in a situation that probably shouldn’t have felt this normal. Meanwhile, Bangchan, completely unbothered, sat next to you in just his sweatpants, bare torso on full display. If he noticed you stealing quick glances, he didn’t call you out on it.

Which was good. Because your brain was already wandering to places it probably shouldn’t.

“Wanna ask you something.” he asked, cracking open a beer.

You nodded, popping a fry into your mouth. “Go for it.”

He watched you for a second, then, out of nowhere— “What’s the deal with Mingyu?”

You choked. Like, full-on, almost died on a potato kind of choked.

Coughing, you took a deep breath and gave him a side-eye. “Damn. No warning?”

Bangchan just took a sip of his beer, completely unfazed. “Because he had his hands on you at the party,” he said casually. “And Changbin said he saw you two at a bar the other night.”

Damn Changbin and his big mouth.

You turned your head just enough to meet Bangchan’s gaze. It was time to be straight with him. No dancing around it.

“I wish I had a solid answer for you, but I don’t,” you admitted, inhaling sharply. You weren’t used to being vulnerable with him. It felt weird. “We went out a few times.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in Bangchan’s energy.

“He likes you,” he stated, no hesitation.

You blinked. “No, he doesn’t. Why would you think that?”

Bangchan searched your face, trying to put his thoughts into words without completely exposing himself. Because I like you and he’s trying to take what’s mine—that’s what he wanted to say. But things between you two were in a good place, and he wasn’t about to be the idiot who ruined that.

Instead, he shrugged. “I don’t know. The way he was looking at you at the party, plus everything else? It just seemed that way.” he paused before asking, “Do you like him?”

You snorted. “No. I don’t. We... Well, we kissed, but that was it.”

Bangchan clenched his jaw, staying painfully still. Oh, for fuck’s sake. He should’ve expected that, but it still made his blood pressure spike. The jealousy? Immediate. And irrational as hell. In his mind, no one should be touching you, especially not Mingyu.

“Are you mad?” you asked, watching his reaction.

He exhaled through his nose, forcing his expression into something neutral. “No, I’m not mad.” a beat. “I just can’t stand the guy. That’s all.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm.”

There was definitely something more there. You’d already clocked the tension between them at the cafeteria, and now this? It wasn’t just about you.

“Did you two have a fight or something?”

“We used to be friends. Way back.” Bangchan leaned back against the headboard, exhaling like the memory physically weighed on him. “Same university, studied together, all that. Then he joined the basketball team. I joined a semester later. Everything was fine... until I got made captain.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Lemme guess—he didn’t take that well?”

Bangchan let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, he lost it. Changbin kept saying he was up to something, but I refused to believe it. I mean, we’d been tight since we were teenagers. What harm could he possibly do to me, right?”

You stayed quiet, sensing he wasn’t done. There was a sharpness to his voice that wasn’t usually there.

“Then he went and lied to my girlfriend,” Bangchan continued, voice dropping slightly. “Told her I was cheating on her with some other girl. And she believed him—because, why wouldn’t she? He was my friend.” His jaw clenched. “And if that wasn’t enough, a week later, he hooked up with the same girl.”

You blinked. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bangchan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Then he quit basketball, and that was that. Haven’t spoken since.”

You whistled, leaning back. “Damn. That’s some high-level betrayal shit.”

He chuckled, but it was flat. “Yeah, well. Some things are for the best, right?”

You nodded, sitting up straighter. “Right.”

Bangchan glanced at you, something softer in his gaze now. “Listen, I don’t care about what you’ve done before. I really don’t.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I do hate that it was him, not gonna lie. But... I like this. Now.”

You studied him for a second, then smirked. “Yeah, me too. Even if you are a little dramatic.”

“Dramatic?”

“Captain of the basketball team and a tragic backstory? That's the main character's energy, dude.”

Bangchan groaned, throwing a pillow at you, and just like that, the tension broke.

Something warm settled in your lap—not just his body heat, but the weight of his words, pressing into you like they meant more than he was outright saying. Your heart pounded against your ribs, completely out of rhythm.

Bangchan had already made it clear that he wanted you, that this pull between you wasn’t one-sided. But lately, something has shifted. Like someone had flipped a switch, and suddenly everything was in high definition—colors sharper, touches lingering longer, words sinking deeper.

And yet, trying to read between the lines felt impossible. He wasn’t making it weird. If anything, it was... nice. Easy.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, his gaze dropping to your lips like he was about to seal whatever this was with a kiss—

And you shoved a piece of fried chicken into his mouth.

“Let’s watch the movie.”

Bangchan froze for half a second before bursting into laughter, eyes crinkling at the edges. He chewed, shook his head like he should’ve seen that coming, and then—without missing a beat—wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Like you belonged there. Like you always had.

Another morning of rehearsal, another round of you showing up late because Bangchan had priorities. Specifically, you. And his mouth. On various parts of your body. Just for the record.

The stage was buzzing, students scattered around with scripts in hand, energy high as everyone prepped for rehearsal. You jogged toward Hyunjin, who was already shooting daggers at Bangchan. Meanwhile, the man in question was slouched in a chair, fingers flying over his laptop, pretending he wasn’t the reason you were running late.

Hyunjin pulled you aside the second you reached him.

“What’s with the face?” he asked, squinting at you like you had something incriminating written on your forehead.

You blinked. “What face?”

“Oh, don’t even try it. You look like you just walked out of a rom-com montage. Like, full-on birds singing, twirling-in-a-field levels of happy.”

You snorted, swatting his arm. “You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re glowing.” Hyunjin grinned knowingly. “Not that I’m judging. It’s actually nice to see. Ever since you and Bangchan… you know.” He waved a vague hand. “You just seem happier. Like, actually happy.”

Your eyes flickered over to the soundboard, where Bangchan was deep in concentration, brows furrowed as he typed something.

Could Hyunjin be right? Was this—whatever this was—more than just fun? Was the weird ache in your chest not confusion, but something else entirely?

Something dangerous. Something real.

The teacher clapped their hands, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, we’re starting with the first scene!”

Seungmin took center stage—the boy with a voice so good it could probably charm a snake, if not an entire room full of theater kids. His character, a small-town dreamer, rejected by his narrow-minded community for daring to want more. Enter Seulgi, your character—his sharp, ambitious, and slightly morally flexible guide to the big city. She introduces him to all the glitz, glam, and occasional questionable life choices that come with chasing dreams. Somewhere between the bright lights and late nights, they fall into each other’s arms, two lost souls trying to find themselves.

Seungmin, ever the pro, stepped into the scene like he was born for it. When the script called for him to be mocked and booed by the townspeople, he stood tall, his face a perfect mix of defiance and heartbreak. And then—his solo.

His voice hit the air like honey dripping off a spoon, warm and slow, yet effortlessly smooth. Even the most cynical among you had to admit it was kind of magical. You blinked rapidly, not about to let musical theater be the thing that made you cry today.

Rehearsal wrapped up, and the usual post-practice hunger kicked in. You, Hyunjin, and Seungmin made a beeline for the cafeteria. It wasn’t long before the whole crew assembled—Eunji and Sohee joining once their classes were done, Minho curled up with his girlfriend like a human-sized housecat.

Then came Jisung, followed by Changbin, Felix… and Bangchan.

And just like that, your heart did that thing again. The annoying, fluttery, completely out-of-your-control thing.

You were totally minding your own business, pretending to scroll through your phone, when you caught Changbin dropping the bomb.

“This weekend, I convinced my parents to let us use the beach house. So, everyone’s invited.”

Cue instant chaos. Eunji and Sohee screamed like they had just won the lottery. Meanwhile, you? 

Full. Blown. Panic.

A whole weekend next to Bangchan? With all your friends around? No touching, no sneaking off, no getting lost in him the way you had been lately? That was actual torture. How were you supposed to act normal?

“Yeah, I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said, aiming for casual but probably missing.

The entire table immediately turned on you.

Sohee gasped like you had personally offended her entire bloodline. “Are you insane? It’s the beach. The ocean. The sand between your toes. Vitamin D!”

Felix draped himself over your shoulder dramatically. “And who else is gonna be my diving buddy?” His eyes twinkled with fake betrayal. You just laughed, shaking your head.

Then Bangchan, because of course it had to be him, chimed in. “What, don’t tell me you’re allergic to fun too?” His smirk was pure provocation.

You shot him a look. “Allergic to idiots? Maybe.”

Eunji groaned, rolling her eyes. “Took you two long enough…”

You fought the grin tugging at your lips, and you caught Bangchan doing the same. No one else at that table had a clue what was really going on, but you both knew exactly what this little game was.

“I dare you to be less grumpy and just go,” Bangchan said, arms crossed like he’d already won.

Sohee clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Please?” she pleaded, giving you the full puppy-eyes treatment.

You sighed, dragging it out for effect before finally giving in. “Fine, fine. But only because I don’t owe this insufferable bastard anything.”

You shot Bangchan with another playful glare, but he just shrugged, smug as ever—completely failing to hide how pleased he actually was.

Everything was packed, the energy was high, and you could practically taste the salty ocean air even though you weren’t even there yet.

Sohee was perched in Minho’s car, swiping on lipstick in the rearview mirror while Eunji and Jisung got comfortable in the back.

“Wait, you’re riding with Changbin?” Minho asked, craning his neck out the window.

Changbin was posted up in his own car, already surrounded by Felix, Hyunjin, and Seungmin. Logically, there were still two more seats to fill before all the cars were set. And just like that—like the universe was playing some cruel joke—Bangchan strolled up with a backpack slung over one shoulder and his car keys twirling around his finger.

“You can ride with me if you want,” he offered, completely casual. “Plenty of space.”

A lump formed in your throat. Everyone here knew about the so-called rivalry between you two. But lately, that line had started to blur—truce or not, the pull was getting harder to ignore.

Inside the car, Sohee shot you a suspicious little smirk, clearly clocking the shift in energy. You straightened up, forced your best nonchalant expression, and turned to Bangchan with an easy shrug.

“Works for me.”

Without waiting for anyone else’s reaction, you strutted over to his car, refusing to acknowledge the silent stares—or the way Changbin’s smug grin practically screamed mission accomplished.

Bangchan trailed behind at his own pace, passing Changbin’s car just in time for his friend to flash him a knowing look. He ignored it, popping open the trunk.

“Lemme take that,” he said, grabbing your bag before you could protest.

You rolled your eyes, but let him. Because, well… maybe he was annoying, but at least he had manners.

That car held some insane memories—the last party, the way you two finally stopped pretending, how everything that had been simmering beneath the surface finally exploded. And now? Now, things were different. You could feel it in your gut.

Bangchan clicked his seatbelt into place, his eyes flicking to you as you did the same. That little smirk of yours didn’t go unnoticed.

"Everything good?" His voice was low, like the others might somehow hear from outside.

"Yeah." You smiled. "And you?"

He exhaled, fingers flexing on the wheel, lips curving into something small but telling. "You have no idea."

The drive to the beach house was easy, comfortable. Bangchan let you take over the playlist, and the car turned into your personal stage. You belted out your favorites, even the ones he dramatically groaned about just to mess with you. He still sang along, though.

The city faded behind you, replaced by open roads and a sky that stretched endlessly. And then, there it was—the ocean, gleaming under the sun, like it had been waiting for you all along.

The weekend had potential. Sure, sneaking around with Bangchan would be a challenge—especially with nosy friends and zero privacy—but hey, you liked a little risk. And after everything that had gone down between you two, the idea of keeping it all under wraps was starting to feel… unnecessary. Too normal, even.

The beach house was straight out of a Pinterest board—huge, sun-soaked, and framed by a postcard-perfect yard that led straight to the ocean. Flowers lined the walkway, the grass was freshly cut, and you were pretty sure Changbin’s family was secretly loaded.

“Damn, Binnie. Didn’t know you were out here living like a rom-com protagonist,” you teased as you stepped out of the car, stretching after the ride.

Changbin just grinned. “Perks of being the favorite son.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. “Right, I’ll get my stuff upstairs.”

Inside, the guys were unloading groceries while Eunji and Sohee had already claimed the balcony for an impromptu photo shoot. You made your way up the wooden stairs, taking in the absurd amount of space.

When you peeked into one of the rooms, your eyebrows shot up. “Okay, damn.” The place was huge. You knew Changbin had money, but this was a statement. The kind of house that could fit a whole cast of reality TV contestants without feeling cramped.

Still, you had priorities. First, drop off your bag. Second, claim a decent bathroom before the others got to it. Third—well, third was figuring out how to not get caught sneaking around with Bangchan all weekend.

You barely made it two steps out of your room before strong hands wrapped around your waist, yanking you into a dark room. A startled gasp slipped out—one that quickly turned into something else when familiar lips brushed against your neck.

“Have you lost your mind?” You smacked Bangchan’s chest, though the effect was ruined by the way your breath hitched. He reached behind you, flicking the light on just enough to reveal his face—desperate, hungry, completely unapologetic.

“I know, I know,” he groaned, voice husky as he buried his face back into your neck, lips tracing the sensitive skin. “But hours. Hours in a car with you, pretending I don’t want to drag you into the backseat? I’m dying here.”

You laughed at his theatrics, but his hands were already roaming, gripping, claiming. His eyes were dark, his lips parted, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip like he was about to devour you.

“Are you gonna make it?” you teased, tilting your head, enjoying the way he tensed under your touch.

“I don’t know…” His fingers dug into your waist, his voice thick with need. “I think I’m too weak.” His gaze dipped to your lips. “And you’re so irresistible.”

“Then shut up and do something about it,” you challenged.

A spark flashed in his eyes—game on.

The second his lips crashed into yours, it was wildfire. His hands tangled in your hair, gripping tight like he was afraid you’d disappear. You fisted his black shirt, yanking him closer, pressing against him like you needed to steal his warmth, his breath, him. The scent of him—musky, intoxicating, familiar—wrapped around you as he kissed you like a man starved.

And you weren’t planning on letting him go anytime soon.

Bangchan was just about to hook your leg around his waist—his hands hot, his breath ragged—when the unmistakable sound of a car engine shutting off made you both freeze.

“Someone's here,” you whispered against his lips.

He groaned, forehead dropping against yours, his grip on your waist tightening like he was debating whether whoever just arrived really needed to exist right now. But you were already slipping from his grasp, smoothing your hair and straightening your clothes like you hadn’t just been seconds away from making bad decisions.

Bangchan cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before following you down the stairs.

At the bottom, Changbin stood with his arms crossed, wearing an expression like someone had just kicked his dog.

You blinked. “Uh, everything okay?”

Changbin’s scowl deepened as he jerked his head toward the door. “Tell your friend she’s completely clueless.” Then, without another word, he stormed off.

You exchanged a glance with Bangchan before looking to Hyunjin for answers, but he just stood there looking like he’d seen a ghost.

And then you saw why.

Standing in the doorway, grinning like she’d just pulled off the best prank in the world, was Eunji.

And next to her, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a hesitant, too-wide smile?

Mingyu.

“Surprise!” Eunji announced, her voice bright and excited.

The silence that followed? Absolutely deafening.

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