#because that is exactly what you sound like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

praeluxius · 22 hours

Text

REPLACED

newjeans Minji x male reader smut

Quickfire challenge 1. Thank you @midnightdancingsol

The prompt: "You know why this happened, @capslocked – yes, you."

Masterlist word count: 3,911 Kofi

It's all a matter of perspective. From one side of the room, the world is calm.

And the other? Well, that's Minji.

“Want to know the one thing worse than outright rejection?”

Minji has barely walked in the door and she is already shouting off in riddles. She's standing in the doorway, her hair wet from the rain and a little bit tangled just above her shoulders. The water on her overshirt is so deeply sodden into the fabric that it weighs on her. It sticks to her skin that's so clearly visible underneath the LED spotlight above her and her face is twisted in this way of pure irritation that you've rarely seen. It's almost comical.

Or it would be if she wasn't throwing her bag on the floor with an almighty thud and a little yelp from the floorboards below.

“Minji?” is all you say in some hushed tone as you sit on the armchair by the window, hot drink in one hand and your phone in the other as the world passes by in the distance, drowned in downpour.

You look up to watch Minji as she shouts, "How about getting a part, only for it to be taken away? Being promised the world and then having it rug-pulled so you fall flat on your fucking face?!"

Now, Minji never swears in anger. And never means never (again, in anger, specifically). So, it's pretty much a sign of the end of the world when she does. She's kicking off her shoes now, throwing them in the direction of the door and they clatter on the floor like the battering of a drum.

"I—uh."

"You—uh," she mocks, taking a step forward.

"Woah. Minji. What happened?" You ask, setting down the phone on the sill of the window. Minji's stomping her way toward you. Her eyes are wide and filled with something you haven't quite seen before.

"This complete—"there are some sounds from her mouth but they don’t quite resemble words"—shit for a fuck brain!" See, Minji never swears like this, so she's so bad at it that it's laughable.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, it's a great idea; an amazing concept. I'll write you a fantastic character and it will be romantic and hot and everyone will love it," Minji rants in some sarcastic tone while peeling her shirt off her skin and piling it onto the hardwood floor. She stands in only her sports bra with her arms raised and her voice in high pitch, mocking. "Except, you're not good enough. Oh, no. I have to give the part to this other girl. She's prettier and nicer and just better than you!"

"Ouch." You say, watching as she flops onto the couch opposite. The coffee table in between you is a lousy line of defence. Her socks have little splatters of rainwater on them and not too far above that, her skirt sits just above the knee.

"Oh, shut up," she replies.

"Minji." You throw her a look that says 'Stop taking it out on me', which she understands, but it only gets her to fold her arms dramatically with a little huff and a puff from her mouth, followed by a pout. Then you ask her, "What part even was this? TV?"

"Not exactly."

"An ad? Video game? Movie?"

"Fanfiction."

Fanfiction.

"What?" You blink, to which Minji sighs and rolls her eyes, head tilted to the ground.

"Fanfiction."

"A fanfiction?" you question again. It’s not like you misheard, it’s just an utterly strange thing for her to be so pent up on.

"Don't say it like that." She snaps, leaning back into the chair and crossing her legs so one of her little rain-splattered socks is suspended in the air, and she twists and turns her foot impatiently.

"Just trying to figure out why you're so annoyed about fanfiction."

"Because the guy's a complete moron."

"Probably," you say, drawing your mug of coffee close to your lips. You blow on the surface and Minji is silent. You wait, the steam is coming off the top and through it, you watch her as she thinks as her eyebrows furrow together. Minji shifts in her seat again, the annoyance making her chronically uncomfortable.

"He replaced me!" She shouts, slamming her hands into the arms of the chair and then Minji stands. She takes a few steps and then stops and turns to face you, her eyebrows furrowed and her arms folded, her legs are slightly apart and she's tapping her foot.

"Does he think I'm not pretty enough? Not funny enough? Not sexy enough? Does he think that I wouldn't be good enough at what he wants me to do, hm? So he doesn't want to write me sucking a dick? Well, screw him. Fucking Capslocked."

You're not sure what's going on here, so you're just sitting back and watching her, coffee nestled in your hand and feet propped on the table. She's standing still, waiting for you to say something, anything, and when you don't, she begins to pace.

"Why would he change his mind and just decide that someone else is better than me? What, does he not like my body? Do you not like my body?"

"Your body is fantastic." You say, taking another sip of the coffee.

"Yeah, and don't you forget it." She snaps, stopping again and placing her hands on her hips, either side of that exposed waistline.

"The fuck kind of name is 'Capslocked' anyway?" You mutter, mostly to yourself. Minji doesn't reply, but you see her take a step closer to you.

"And," Minji begins and then pauses, you look up at her and she's just staring. Her cheeks are flushed and her breathing is a little laboured, her chest rising and falling with each breath. There's a pause. Her tongue runs over her lips and you can see her thinking—gears grinding inside her head.

"And?" you ask.

"Shut up," she hisses, kicking your leg so your feet fall from the coffee table and you almost spill the drink down yourself. She places her hands on your knees, bending over to you.

"Minji, my drink—"

"Shh." her hair falls across her face, a black silk drape half-covering the expression beneath. There's an anger under there, something she's trying to push back down, but it's not quite working. Her nails dig into your thighs as she pushes them apart, and the steam rises again above the surface of the liquid in your cup. Minji is too busy running her hand along your crotch.

"What're you—"

"Replaced me," she repeats to herself, a little huff leaving her as she slips down onto her knees. "Fucking replaced me."

"Minji, I'm sure he—"

"I don't care. Shut up. I'm not talking to you." Her hands are shaking, whether from frustration or some other confused feeling that burns under her skin. Probably a mix of many feelings. They're fumbling at the button of your jeans and she's tugging down the zip, her teeth bared. You're watching, and it's as if she is possessed.

Your heartbeat is thunderous in your ears, the heat is rising and Minji is pushing her hair out of her face.

"I'm gonna do this so well."

"You always do."

"I said stop talking. So. Stop. Talking," she sounds out each word with authority, her eyes wide and angry. Minji is pushing down the fabric and reaching into the opening in your underwear. She wraps her fingers around you, the cool touch of her skin making you jerk.

"Minji, my drink." Your hand trembles slightly as you try not to spill it. Minji doesn't listen. She pulls you free. A low hum leaves her throat as she licks her lips and leans forward. Her warm breath is ghosting over you, her eyes are closed and there's a little smirk on her lips. Your cock is only halfway to hard and her hand is wantingly trying to coax you into arousal.

It doesn't take much. It never does with Minji.

"Fuck," you groan, the sound of your voice making her look up.

"Don't," she replies, a warning in her eyes. Minji's hand is moving up and down and it's not with that same gentle caress she usually has.

"God, Minji."

"Quiet." She stops, her lips are pouted and her eyes are locked onto you. Her hand is around you, the pressure is gentle, but it's enough to hold you. You're frozen there a moment, her eyes are staring right through you and you're not entirely sure what's going to happen. "Don't say a word, and don’t spill your drink,” she tells you, her free hand rubbing your thigh.

"Minji—"

"Don't." She whispers, her tongue licking over the surface of her lip. Her mouth opens, and she's leaning in. The warmth of her breath is making the muscles of your abdomen twitch and your head spin. Her tongue is the first thing that touches you. She's holding you still, and the head of your cock is resting on her bottom lip, and the feeling of the smooth surface makes you want to thrust forward, but Minji's hand holds you firm.

You bite your lip as Minji's tongue swirls around the tip. It's light and soft and sends electricity through your nerves. You groan ever so slightly and she looks up at you, her eyes narrowed. Your knuckles whiten as you grip the mug, her hair tickling the inside of your thigh as she lowers her head.

Her tongue runs along the underside and pastes your cock with a wetness. The hand around you moves down, and she takes you in. Her mouth is heaven, and her lips the closing gates. You let out a deep sigh, your chest heaving, and Minji's free hand slides up the inside of your shirt, her nails grazing your skin.

Her mouth moves, her lips tightening, and the movement is slow. It's torturous and the sensation of her tongue swirling around the underside of your cock sends you spiralling. Minji knows this, and she's looking up at you. You want to touch her; you want to tangle your fingers into her hair; you want to grab her and pull her against you.

But her eyes speak many words left unspoken. They command your stillness, your silence, and your complete submission.

Minji is working her mouth over you, and her hand is stroking you, up and down and up and down. She's bobbing her head and humming slightly. The melody is almost hypnotic but sounds as if being played by force rather than elegance.

Her scratches are harder than ever and it feels like fire across your chest. Your toes are curling and your head is thrown back. The heat from the mug permeates into your skin as you grip it tighter.

"Ah, Minji." You moan. Minji stops, looking up at you. There's a drop of spit on her lip, and her face is flushed. You're not sure what to do. She's glaring, and she's holding you. Your heart is beating like the hammer of a drum and just above it, her nails grip, threatening to pierce through flesh.

"I said quiet." Words laced with venom. She digs somehow deeper into your chest as she pushes herself to her feet. "Now, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until I scream and you're going to stay quiet."

You're not quite sure what's happening. This is a Minji you have seldom seen before, but it's all happening so fast. She's pulling up her skirt, sliding down her panties, and she's kicking them off so the fabric lands somewhere to the side. She's stepping forward and her knees are touching the armrests. Closer and closer she comes with her eyes fixed on you.

Your mouth is dry, and her fingers are on your jaw. Her eyes bore holes in your own and she's lowering herself. In a moment of weakness, you throw a glance at your hand, still holding the half-full cup. There's an angry sound from Minji and she snarls, "Focus on me."

Minji swipes her arm at the cup, sending it flying. You watch the arc of the cup and the contents spill across the floor. She's not waiting, she's not looking. There’s not an ounce of concern within her for something so trivial.

You feel the soft wetness of her sex on your tip, she's rubbing herself on the head, the moisture spreading along the underside and Minji's face is screwed up in pleasure and her legs are shaking. She's panting and moaning and she's trying to slide down.

"Minji, are you—"

She thrusts her hand over your mouth with a growl and wild eyes. Her nails are biting into your cheek. "Not. Another. Word."

Minji's other hand is on your shoulder; using it for balance as she tries to move herself. She's lowering herself down and the head of your cock slips into her.

She's so warm. So unbelievably wet. Minji gasps and her back arches and her breasts heave beneath her slightly see-through sports top as she breathes. Her nails dig deeper into your flesh, her lips are parted and her head is thrown back, leaving her throat exposed—a pale expanse of milky perfection.

"Oh, God," she moans, the sound reverberating around the room as she slowly sinks and the walls of her cunt are tight on you. So tight. She trembles as she speaks. "You can't replace this."

Her skirt is around her waist, the material covering the sight of where your bodies meet. But you can feel it; you can feel every little movement she makes.

"I'm so wet."

So fucking wet.

"You're so hard."

Hard. So hard.

"How could anyone replace this?"

How? How could you possibly replace this?

Her cries are shrill, and the heat of her is all around you. It's the only thing you can focus on—her. You try to answer, but your words never make it past the hand on your mouth. She's panting, and her hair is wild, her eyes wide and her mouth open. And she's just riding until she can't no more. Until her muscles grow weak and until her cum leaks between her legs.

"This is what they want, isn't it? They want to fuck me. Riding them. On my knees. They want me bent over the table, or against the wall, or—or—fuck!" Her words are sharp and punctuated with gasps and moans. "Want me to cum—" she trails off into something close to a scream, her body convulsing. Her back is arched and her hips are pressed down onto yours.

She's grinding into you, and you can feel her clench around your cock. Your head is swimming, and your hips are jerking. You can't breathe. Her fingers are loosening their hold on your mouth, but you dare not speak. You're not even sure if you can.

Minji's hand is moving, sliding down your cheek, around your jaw and then gripping on your neck. She admires the red claw marks on your cheek.

"That's right," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "They want to fuck me, don't they? They all read and write those filthy little stories and keep dreaming of the impossible. But that fucker won’t write it for them."

You can only sit and take in the way that she is glowing with the sweat, the light catching her skin and highlighting the contours of her face and her collarbone. Her small top clings to her sticky chest and leaves so very little to the imagination. Through it you see the smooth curve of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples and below it the ridges of her toned abdomen that flexes with her slowing grind.

She's climbing off you now and pulling you up from your seat. Her arms are around your neck and her eyes are on yours. You're staring into the depth of her eyes, the black pupils large and the irises a warm, golden honey.

"You're not going to replace me, are you?"

"Never."

"Good."

She leans back a little and pulls your shirt up until it's around your neck. She pulls it to your mouth, feeding the fabric into it before tying some sort of makeshift knot behind your head. "Now. Not another word." Minji pulls off her own top, peeling it away from her sweat-soaked skin.

You watch as she takes a few steps back; her cotton-hugged feet on the ground, her skirt falling back over those long legs and her hands on the hem of the fabric. She's smiling at you, a wide and wicked grin. You watch her and she's watching you. She's pulling it up now and her hands are underneath it. She turns to the window. "Now you're going to pin me against this window and do me, aren't you? Nod if you are."

You nod.

Minji giggles, throwing a look over her shoulder. "I'm the best, aren't I?"

Minji doesn't wait for you to nod again. She turns away and looks out the window—the city is alive. The rain is falling; the lights are flickering and cars are passing by far below. Minji is leaning her forehead against the glass, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape. Her hair is wild and messy and the light is illuminating her.

You're stepping towards her, one hand on her back, the other sliding over the curve of her ass. You can see her reflection, the smile on her lips. Her hands are on the glass, palms flat, and you're sliding a hand between her legs and over her wet, sensitive skin.

She's shivering and letting out little gasps as your fingers dance along the flesh and your fingertips tease her folds. She's whimpering, and the sound makes your cock twitch.

"Fuck me," Minji whispers, her nails scratching the window. You can't deny a woman so insatiable.

You adjust your jaw; it's so uncomfortably pinned open and you're unable to say a word. You can't tell her just how nice that ass is and how the view inside the window makes a mockery of the one outside. You can't tell her how her hair is so beautiful, or how her eyes are the prettiest you've ever seen. You can't tell her anything.

But you can tell her in another way—through touch. The thought sends a chill down your spine and your teeth sink into the material of the shirt. Minji's whining and you're slipping your fingers between her lips. She's hot, and the heat is dripping from her. It's on your fingers and it's soaking into your palm.

Minji is moving her hips, trying to find purchase on your fingers, the tip of one brushing her clit. She gasps and throws her head back. You're sliding a finger inside her, the movement easy and Minji is bucking her hips, her body trying to pull you further and deeper.

"Fuck me like I'm the only woman in the world. Like you'll die if you don't fuck me. Like there's no one else in the world who can make you feel like I do."

You're pushing her against the window, the foggy condensation from her breath and the heat of her body mar the surface. Minji is laughing—the hot and breathy kind of laugh—as you press her into the glass.

"That's it. Come on. Fuck me now,” she orders and just like that, you're doing it. She's moaning and her back arches. You're inside her and the tightness is enough to make you come undone. You're pressing her harder and harder against the window.

"That's it. Oh, yes. Harder. That's what they all want."

You're slamming into her, and she's taking it. You're not holding back. Minji is moaning and her fingers are curling, nails raking. Her voice is echoing in the room and the sound makes your skin prickle.

"They all want me like this. Bent over and begging. Oh, fuck yes."

"They can't have you." You growl through the shirt, your teeth tearing into the fabric.

"No." Minji screams, "They can't have me. They can't touch me. He can't touch me. Won't even write about me. If only he could see me now. I bet he would change his mind. Wouldn't you?"

You fuck her until the muscles in the back of your legs stiffen. You fuck her until she's screaming. You fuck her until the glass is a mess of fingerprints, sweat, and spit. Until the golden skin of her back glows with moisture.

You fuck her until your vision starts to fade and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that it’s unbearable. You fuck her until you can't anymore.

And she's still going, her screams echoing and her body writhing against yours, and it's all too much. You need to release, and it needs to be inside Minji.

You're coming undone and your hips jerk and stutter and Minji's body is convulsing. Your cum is spilling into her, and she's cumming again and she's screaming, the sound so shrill that it hurts. You're groaning and she's shaking, the walls of her cunt clenching and drawing your orgasm out until you can't think and you can't breathe and everything is both too much and not enough.

Leaning forward so her back is flush with your chest, and she is truly pinned. Your breathing is hard, and hers is heavy and the two of you stay there for a while, frozen in ecstasy. The room absorbs the sound of your combined pants, the rain and the distant hum of the city.

Minji is the first to move, twisting herself free from the weight of your body against her. Your cock slides out. The feeling of the cool air and the absence of her body sends a shiver through you. You stumble, the shirt falling from your mouth and your vision is blurry.

Minji is laughing and you're looking at her as she is plucking away the strands of hair which stick to her face. And when she finishes, Minji steps forward and slaps you. "I told you not to make a mess."

"Minji, you made the mess."

"Shut up."

"But I—"

She grabs you by the neck and kisses you. Her lips are hot and the kiss is hungry and messy. Her tongue is in your mouth and her hands are all over you. The kiss is hard and deep and it's leaving you breathless.

She's pulling you to the ground, her legs wrapping around you and your hand is on her thigh. The heat of her core is against you and her nails are digging into your back. She's biting your lip, and she's pushing you over onto your back.

She's straddling you. Her hands are on your chest, her palms pressing down.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" you pant. Minji's looking at you with a disregard for your words.

Your cock is so tender under her rough motions, and there’s no stopping your whimper. Minji is smiling, and the sight is so sweet. "Are you complaining?"

"No," you manage to say, as a shiver runs down your spine as she lowers herself and brushes her lips against your ear.

Her tongue is running over your earlobe and she's nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Her hands are on your shoulders and her legs are squeezing your waist. "Good boy. We're not done. Not even close."

#minji smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #m reader #newjeans smut #kpop fanfiction #minji x reader #smut

754 notes · View notes

simpjaes · 1 day

Text

renaissance man (p. js)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion. or the one where jay is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and well, other things.

minors dni!! | pls reblog to show your support!

WORDCOUNT― 14.6k

PAIRING― park jongseong x afab reader

CONTENT― fluffy comfort smut, strangers to lovers like immediately, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.

!!ATTENTION!!― read this before? that’s because I run two blogs and like to re-vamp fics i’ve previously written for other groups! [@/ncteez is likely where you’ve read it from. THAT IS ME!!!]

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jay!!!![i am not of this belief, i think his cock is fat and huge], he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex, sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to pretend he wouldn’t want that, back scratches (sexual)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.

“I’m fine, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your chosen toy without help.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long that he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond. “I think I know my body well enough and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jay’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys, he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows what everyone in this town’s kinks are after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets…he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.

The guests seem to love him and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. Someone you’d wanna bring home to mom, some might say.

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. You know, the really fucking huge one.

Upon meeting his eye again for the first time, he could tell it really is you, simply because of the way you furrow your brow as you recognize him.

Jay couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him. Because it’s honestly pretty common to see someone nervous or uncomfortable while buying items far less telling than the one you bought.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family and by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to explain what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.

He follows you down the line of dishes, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed, or perhaps even an attempt to ask you not to snitch on where else he works to make his money.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a crooked grin.

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jay. See you around.”

Heading away from the tables of food and toward the table that contains all of your favorite cousins, you are immediately bombarded with a raised brow from one of them. Ah, nosy.

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing at the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. She doesn’t quite catch the way Jay’s eyes flicker back to you, over and over again, repeatedly.

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jay? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.

His personality seems different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks its funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills before speaking to him again.

“Just how many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. The brief break he’s taken from stealing glances so he could actually do his jobs appears to be the time you feel the need to finally approach. Still, he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not or may not be to like about him. You can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news that you’re not finding anything to raise any red flags.

He’s bold, confidence, charming, clearly has a decent work ethic–

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster. We have tons in stock if you wanna–” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him without alerting your family of a new future husband or something.

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.

He pauses, easing up at the way you’re just as cheeky and playful as he is, despite being surrounded by your family. It’s mildly inappropriate, but it’s making his shift go by quickly. You’re making his shift enjoyable today, so he continues.

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again with a brief pause, knowing the size of that dildo you bought by heart, and fully aware that it probably ripped you in half if you really managed to put that thing anywhere inside of you. “Correction, they should be worried.”

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to take time from your family reunion to have a discussion about your plastic cock intake anyway.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare it down instead.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him before swirling around and walking away thinking hard about the fact that…yeah, he might actually see you sooner than he thinks.

Honestly, maybe within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale this time.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Unfortunately for you upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. You drop your head to the steering wheel in a sigh and annoyed grunt.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny Sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you’ve been here at your parent’s house? You refuse to answer your own question.

And just as you go to accept your defeat, preparing to head back inside and take the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jay, walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jay shakes his head apologetically.

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m not too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jay nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock and probably already hit the sack without even cleaning up the yard.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jay looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Knowing that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in this driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.

Jay unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help.

Of course it is.

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him.

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about said car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, I couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jay pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.

“Was that too forward to ask?”

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…right?” You comment quietly, glancing at him.

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”

Oh fuck, he’s right.

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.

And you hear him echo your name, asking where it is that you’d like to go.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. At least, not without hanging out a few times first.

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.

“Where to then?”

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.”

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. And in all fairness, you’ve been trying to find a reason to slip in your relationship status to him.

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.

“You know, normally people don’t buy toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a really high sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes at him, trying not to stare at him for too long because goddamn is he handsome. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Pocket 2, and Jessica.”

“Jessica?” You raise a brow despite the sarcastic banter, wondering if maybe that’s based on his ex girlfriend or something.

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”

You nod energetically with a laugh.

“Variety is good.” You continue, not mentioning the array of toys you have stashed away.

“Yeah, I think experimenting with different things is good. I only really liked the two I kept though, I guess.”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him because you were looking a little too fondly at that little scar on his nose, the birth mark on his neck, the way his lips crease when he swallows his drink and– yeah, you definitely glance away.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He comments, tapping the cup against his lips and looking at you.

You’re a little stunned by him, never having met a man so open to speaking like this, with a woman he barely knows no less.

“Okay, enough about my dildo. I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Oh? Embarrassed? Since when?” He jokes at first. “What is it then?”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, seeing as how you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, studying the way you make yourself a bit smaller compared to just minutes before.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a doll with a very normal dick?”

Jay fucking snorts. How mundane.

Unfortunately for you though, Nope.

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got fem tantaly dolls and all sorts of blow up dolls but he’s never brought in just like, a torso with a cock, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You shrug.

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, that pretty smile you’ve seen time and time again echoing the most attractive laugh you think you’ve heard in a long time. This time, his smile doesn’t fade as the seconds pass, no. He’s unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get dick-stabbed where they don’t need it mid orgasm.”

You glare.

“Wait, no, because it actually hurts.” You frown at him. “I just wish your shop catered a little more to women who just wanna ride a dick without the dangers of riding said dick.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your–” He pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. “Um…” He trails off uncomfortably, unintentionally adjusting himself in his jeans by spreading his legs slightly against your couch.

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off.

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself telling me that.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, knowing that all you need to do is point out that he got flustered to shut him up. You opt not to because still, the two of you barely know each other. Instead, you opt to laugh along with him, letting your gaze fall back to studying all of those features he has that you didn’t quite notice before.

While you did notice he was handsome before, it’s not like you paid that thought any mind. There are a lot of handsome men out and about after all. It only starts to matter when they allow you to get close enough to appreciate it more. Not to mention, in your experience at various sex shops, most employees of them are mundane and nonchalant. Some are strange old men, or cool old women. Jay though? Jay.

Hmm…how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his sharp jawed smile and pretty eyes. The little marks and celestial kisses against his skin that shows you of a life he’s been living. He feels…warm. Like everything about him looks comforting, smells comforting, sounds comforting. And now, even compared to when you met him at the shop, even at the reunion just this afternoon…he’s so much more handsome in this moment.

Learning his personality, hearing his voice say your name, having him take the time to not only help you but befriend you?

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… you don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.

“You know, Jay,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help the fluttering feeling in his chest.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It's almost two in the morning by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you.

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness for some reason, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite meal. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at an ungodly hour and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.

“A man.” You dead-pan, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”

You snort.

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.

“I can imagine so, yeah.”

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, hovering just over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.

“Was I wrong though?”

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out on the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.

“Actually, say whatever you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to sit against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it would be stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jay seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops, realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn and face him once he comes inside.

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.

He has no idea what the fuck you’re referring to until he sees it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jay ticks his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?”

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.

“With you? Looks like it.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your arm and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you left your headlights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing your fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his hair hangs in front of his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that the curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing along your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks even more pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension but permanently arched in a way that makes him appear constantly moody.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you–” He smiles knowingly, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on one hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your core. “No promises now, though.”

You smirk, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your chuckle off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. After all, toys can’t give you the foreplay that he can.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your waist, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right in the center of your mess before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Goddamn, if this is how he sounds when he’s with a girl then you feel more lucky than before. You can’t imagine the amount of women who have fallen completely in love with this guy. And, before you can actually respond to him with another cheeky comment, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly between your legs, cupping you there and even scooting you up the bed with the force of how he grabs you.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.

You can feel the fabric stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good, if you’re being honest.

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the words to just tell him yourself.

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bear to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing him a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on his fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them as you cling to him.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have your legs shaking.

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.

“Pull it out.” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your needy cunt.

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?

“Jay,” You say, slightly out of breath.

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen constantly pressing into it. He could have gotten off from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long too, but now?

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.

“Shit,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into you and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already cum just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him by explaining how good your pussy feels, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.”

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your pulsing walls, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, he’s still on the same page with you.

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jay though, he’s in love with the idea that you’ll leave a mark.

Obsessed with the sting of it, really, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–”

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely full. Jay really is something, or, someone.

The two of you release together, and his lips fall slack just like yours do. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jay is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for an evening at the sex-shop. He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

#enhypen smut #park jonseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #enha smut

609 notes · View notes

verareids · 1 day

Text

feel the same - s.r. x reader

spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3

also posted on ao3

“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”

Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be.

He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.

“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation.

“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”

“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.

Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.

When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?

The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.

“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.

“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.

“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.

“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.

“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.

“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.

“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.

“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”

“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.

“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.

“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.

“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.

“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback.

“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”

“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.

“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.

“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm.

You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

523 notes · View notes

sweetfushi · 2 days

Note

Hi please could I get headcanons for gojo, geto and nanami for when they’re feeling jealous/insecure in their relationship🥹I love how you write the jjk men💗

COMFORTING THEM WHEN THEY'RE FEELING INSECURE

angst, hurt/comfort | satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami x reader, feelings of unworthiness, questioning one's life, depression, feeling like you will leave them someday, jealousy, age insecurity, age gap between you and nanami | word count. 1.5k ◦ notes. oh myy don't make me blush nonnie, i hope you enjoy <3

SATORU GOJO.

To say you have your eye on Satoru was an understatement, and not in the “I know you’re up to something” way. Rather, because you know he’s dealing with something you can’t exactly place your finger on. You can only tell this because he’s been quiet this whole day, wandering around the house like it’s his first time here and doesn’t know where anything is. Multiple times have you had to grab his arm to stop him from bumping into something - you can’t snap him out of the daze he’s in and it’s concerning you.

“‘Toru, what’s wrong?” You finally ask him, grabbing his arms to steady him in front of you despite his much taller frame. If anything, you usually grab onto him to steady yourself.

His blue eyes are clouded, his gaze on you yet uncertain. The only sound you hear is the sound of him swallowing thickly and the gusts of wind rushing through the living room window.

“Do you like being with me? Do you like being around me?” He asks, that dazed look still swarming his eyes.

You practically sputter at the sudden questioning. “Of course, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I love being with and around you, Satoru,” you confirm, brow furrowing. “What makes you ask?”

He gulps again and takes a seat on the couch to catch himself before his legs give out from both anxiety and exhaustion. He felt like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in days. “What… what do you love about me?”

Something inside of you breaks at the tone of his voice. The question itself was heart-breaking, let alone the dejected expression he held when asking it.

“Oh honey,” you coo as you take a seat beside him, running a hand through his hair. “I love everything about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes. Hell, even the way you annoy me. I love it all. I love you, Satoru.”

He stares down at his lap for a moment, head hanging low and eyes relaxed. He looks like he’s on the brink of collapsing but the fact that you can’t place why he looks like that frustrates you. You’re not even sure whether frustration is what you’re feeling right now, but you were the last person to be concerned with.

Satoru doesn’t smile, but you see him relax slightly after a period of silence between you. He inhales deeply and shuffles over to lay in your lap, his body evidently trembling. The only viable option at the moment seems to be caressing him and playing with his hair.

Even when you hear his quiet sobs and feel his tears dampen your leg.

SUGURU GETO.

It’s not foreign for you to witness Geto express some form of his depression. Whether it was about himself or someone else, it wasn’t a covert aspect of your relationship. You always comfort him, whether you yourself were going through hardship or not.

Despite this, you had never felt the degree of disturbance you felt now as you looked at him. Geto’s hair traces down his shoulders and appears to obstruct your view of his sunken eyes. He can’t remember the last time he got a good night’s sleep; most nights he spent tossing and turning, admiring your slumbering form as he contemplated his worth.

“Suguru?” You start, voice almost dying in your throat. “What’s wrong?”

Suguru raises his head slightly to flash you a tired smile and greets you quietly. “Nothing at all, dove. Just tired is all,” he sighs heavily, feeling the couch dip as you sit beside him.

“I don’t look like this,” you brush his hair out his face, “when I’m tired.”

He huffs, slightly amused. “I don’t see how exhaustion could diminish your beauty,” is all he says as he finally leans back into the couch and observes you. You tend to cower under his generally seductive gaze, but there was nothing seductive in the way his dark eyes found their last grips of strength in your beauty. It was painful to see.

“You don’t need to worry yourself,” he tells you matter-of-factly, as if it’s a habit for you to neglect him when he’s feeling this way.

Thus, you shake your head in response and place a hand on his arm. At that, you feel him tense up. “You trust me, right?” He nods his head. “So tell me what’s wrong. We’ll work through it together, as we always do,” you promise.

Suguru inhales deeply before speaking. “I feel undeserving of all that you give me. Even,” he almost chokes on his own breath, but catches himself, “when you tell me you love me, I don’t feel like I’m worthy of being subject to your love.”

In times like this, you rarely have the words or articulacy to verbalise what you feel in response to him. That’s why you frequently resort to physical affections, such as touching or holding him. Which is why you decide that pulling him closer to you and into your embrace is the best to satiate the situation.

When you do so, Suguru has difficulty composing himself. The pieces he had been holding so tightly and so closely fell through the gaps between his fingers and lay into your hands, awaiting your resolution to his despondency. Only you had the ability to fix what Suguru so frequently destroyed with his self-deprecation.

You feel the shaky intake of his breaths and start to rub up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him, but you’re not necessarily surprised when you feel his tears stain your shirt and trail onto your shoulder.

The only reason you don’t find yourself desperate to calm his tears is because you know that beyond your vision, as he returns your embrace, Suguru is smiling as the first piece of himself is fixed.

KENTO NANAMI.

“You’ve been acting more jealous recently,” you point out to him, hoping it’s not functioning as stepping on a landmine - though you’ve never had communicative problems with Nanami.

He remains silent as he cleans his glasses, only offering a hum in response until he puts his glasses back on again and turns to you. You can’t detect what his expression is trying to communicate to you, so you wait for him to verbalise it.

“I have?” He asks softly. When you simply nod at him, he reflects on himself for a moment. He’s never felt like his anxiety affected the way he conducted himself around others, especially around you. When he’s in your presence, he hardly ever finds himself struggling with negative mentalities. But, you had noticed his slight outbursts recently.

He was more touchy in public, especially when sighting someone looking at you. He would request that you’d reserve isolated tables in restaurants. He would check his watch often and fiddle with his glasses or his tie. When you had first asked him about it, he’d just placed his hand on yours and smiled, telling you to not worry yourself about him.

“Have I done something to upset you?” You question, to which he simply replies no.

So, you feel obligated to ask. “Are you cheating on me?”

He whips his head to look at you incredulously, raising a brow. “Is that the man you take me for?” He chuckles slightly, a small rumble in his chest that dies as quick as it sounds.

You shrug and sit opposite him at the kitchen table. “Precautionary questioning. But really, what’s going on? Is it something I can help with?”

Nanami stares at you for a moment and already feels the tension in his body ease. “Does it ever bother you that you’re with an older man?”

Now you’re the one to stare at him incredulously. “It’s never been a bother, it isn’t now. What makes you ask?” You catch sight of the way his leg bounces under the table but don’t point it out.

“You never desire to be with men your age? You’d probably have more time to explore yourself with them–”

“Hey, that’s enough. None of this individuality and “explore yourself” crap,” you furrow your brow. “I’ve found more parts of myself during our relationship than with any other guy or friend, even. Don’t let your age convince you that you’re a liability or burden of any sort. Age is not something you can control, your approach to how you let it define you is something you can.”

As you practically scold him, Nanami stares at you, observing your every expression with a delightful warmth in his chest.

“If I wanted to be with the idiots that are men my age, I would’ve gone searching and landed myself in a miserable relationship. Guess why I haven’t left you,” you raise a brow, looking at him pointedly. “Because you are the one I want. Regardless of age or anything of that matter.”

You let yourself fall silent as he continues to observe you. At some point, you grow uncomfortable at the lack of response but don’t pressure him. But, you hear him exhale almost in relief, which is when you meet his gaze as he starts to reply.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you even more.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

412 notes · View notes

milkteabinniechan · 2 days

Text

*⁠♡Happy Father's Day - Chan

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY membership // m.list

pairing: single dad! Chan x afab reader

warnings: fingering, lots of mouth sounds, angst (if you squint your eyes)

I’ll tell him about you.

Your friend had an adorable three year old. A loud, sticky, energetic three year old. But adorable nonetheless. You had a pretty regular babysitting gig going. A few people around your neighborhood had talked and heard about your services and now you were basically a seasoned vet when it came to entertaining toddlers.

But your friend was a full time stay-at-home mom now and could watch her own adorable, sticky three year old. And now you needed another spot to fill those last bit of monthly bills. So she said there was a new dad at the preschool that seemed like he was struggling. “Struggling”, she said in air quotes. You agreed and asked her to give this new dad your information. Even though you mostly worked with the mothers, money was money.

A few days passed and eventually your phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi. This is Chan. The.. uh.. Dad from Sunnyvale Preschool? I was told you could help me out with babysitting?”

He sounded nervous, or maybe he was just a shy person. Maybe he hated talking on the phone. But did his voice sound sexy? There was a deep, velvety smoothness to the way he spoke. Even between the stutters and pauses. You lingered for a moment, lost in the thought of that voice of his.

“Are you still there?” His voice pierced through your eardrum.

“Shit. Sorry, yeah. I’m here. And yes, I am available. Do you have time this week to set up a meet and greet?” your voice quickly went into customer service mode, knowing exactly what to say, memorizing the script you had made for yourself months ago.

THe two of you agreed on a time and day and said your goodbyes. You took a deep breath and tried to forget the way the sound of his voice made you feel. And you prayed all night that he didn’t look as good as he sounded.

Soon, you found yourself at the front door of Chan’s house. An expansive four bedroom home with one of those driveways that was nearly at a ninety degree angle. The door itself was large with two thin lines of stained glass running vertically down the front. A wooden WELCOME sign layed lazily against the door. A novelty sign you could buy as a last minute purchase at a hardware store. The front door clicked open and Chan stood in the doorway, child on his hip.

“Come on in,” He said warmly, arm gesturing for you to walk inside, “Did you find the place okay?”

Inside was a long staircase leading up to the bedrooms, a chandelier hanging from the top floor and swinging down gracefully into the foyer where the three of you stood. Past the stairs was a long hallway that led to the living room and an open floor plan kitchen. Windows surrounded the rooms in a sunlit blanket that made the whole house seem as if it was holding its arms out to you, embracing you.

The three of you sat down on the sectional couch in the living room. You sat on one end, while Chan and the small child sat together on the other corner. Chan introduced the small girl as Lilly. She clung to Chan tightly, her small, chubby finger gripping onto his shirt as if it were a lifeline. You smiled at Lilly and introduced yourself to her. You held eye contact with only her and asked her about some of her favorite things. You had learned over the years that children appreciated when you spoke to them like you understood them. Like everything they said was important, because to you it was. Lilly lit up and talked excitedly about some of her favorite books, jumping at the opportunity to show you. She ran to her room and hastily returned with a few small books. One was about animals, another was about a tractor that made a new friend. You exclaimed in amazement at Lilly’s amazing books. She was smart and she was quiet, but you could tell she was very well loved.

Chan watched the two of you talk about books and the different noises that animals make. It had been a long time since he had seen Lilly open up to someone so quickly. It made his heart feel full to burst, seeing the way you interacted with his daughter.

“You’re hired.” Chan said as you started to walk out of the door. His sudden decision startled you, usually it took most parents to call a few days after the meet and greet. You smiled warmly at Chan, giving him a firm handshake. The two of you quickly made a schedule of the days you would be working and before you knew it, you were in the routine with him.

Months went by with the three of you falling into this routine. You knew exactly when Chan would get home, you knew the foods that Lilly liked to eat, with her tastes changing by the week. You knew when to have dinner on the table and when to have Lilly in bed. And there was comfort there. A comfort in Chan coming home, in making a meal for him. You loved Lilly, and you couldn’t ignore this role that you were easing into.

“Happy Father’s Day!”

Chan walked in the door to find you greeting him with balloons and a cake on the dining room table. Lilly ran to Chan and squeezed his leg. You stood by the balloons and cake, waiting for his reaction. But for a moment he just stood there. Then, he picked Lilly up, propping her on his hip and walked towards you, embracing you with his free arm. He pulled you in close and whispered a soft thank you against your neck. As he pulled back from the hug, the two of you lingered there for a moment, caught heavily in the tension building thick between you. Later that evening, you walked back downstairs from putting Lilly to bed. You entered the kitchen to see Chan cleaning off the rest of the plates and silverware, blue frosting speckled on forks and spoons alike.

“I hope the cake wasn’t too much,” You spoke softly, moving towards Chan at the sink, “It was Lilly’s idea, she really wanted a cake.”

Chan chuckled softly at the thought of his daughter begging for a cake, with only blue frosting, blue being her current favorite color.

“It was perfect,” Chan stopped washing dishes and turned towards you, “you’re perfect.” Chan slowly moved his hands from the warm sink water, to your waiting waist. His fingers crept along your stomach and landed flush along your back, pulling you close to his body. You gasped at the sudden movement, but your body reacted reflexively to his touch. He took you by the hips and propped you up on the kitchen counter. He moved in towards your legs, spreading them open, making room for him. He gripped your thigh with his large hand and pulled it up and around his waist. Your eyes burned bright at his brazen actions as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep, possessive kiss. Chan forcefully glides his tongue into your mouth, letting it graze across your teeth. You let out a soft gasp as you feel his tongue slide inside, sending a shiver up your spine. You open your mouth wider for him, letting your tongues tangle together in a slow, sensual dance. You press against Chan, craving more of his touch, desperate for it.

He lets his hand fall lazily down your chest, then your stomach. He easily unclasps the button of your pants and lets his hand slip inside. The rush of warmth from his hand causes your head to fall back, your back arching at his every movement. A low growl escapes from inside Chan’s chest seeing how responsive you are to his touch. He lets his teeth graze lightly along the skin of your neck while his fingers trace hypnotic circles around the entrance of your cunt. He can feel how wet you already are for him and it causes something feral to happen in his brain. He buries his fingers deeper inside you, the sudden impact and pressure causing you to squirm and squeal pathetically in his strong arms.

A small, faint cry comes from the top of the stairs and suddenly the two of you snap back into parent mode. The sound of Lilly’s tiny voice pushing all other thoughts and feelings aside. The two of you run upstairs to find Lilly in her bed, crying from a nightmare.

Chan melts instantly at the sight of his daughter safely lying in her bed, instantly thinking the worst may have happened. He sits on the bed with her and holds her close. He consoles her and reminds her that dreams cannot hurt her, he reassures her that he is here to protect her. That he will always be here for her. But as he speaks, he looks at you too. He looks at you as if he wanted you to hear what he was saying as well, like he was speaking to you and Lilly. That you were both important to him. As if he wanted to protect you too. And love you too. You gave Chan a small nod, so he knew you understood. You loved him too. And you would protect both of them with your whole heart.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo

351 notes · View notes

sunshine-on-marz · 2 days

Text

Lost and found

Spencer Reid x Reader

In which Spencer almost loses the love of his life, literally and figuratively

TW: angst with a happy ending, criminal minds level depiction of violence, mentions of death, it takes a little to get to the actual plot but trust me it’s worth it, (tell me if i missed any)

Word count: 3.3K

To know Spencer Reid was to be absolutely enthralled by him. You were both 16 when you met, granted you were 16 in your junior year of highschool and he was 16 working on his 2nd PHD, but you were both 16 nonetheless.

It had taken some convincing to get a place in his life, not because he didn’t like you or your company, more because he was waiting for your ulterior motive to show itself, or for your patience to wear thin. It never did.

You knew vaguely about his mother, mostly through a news article you found from a few years back, talking about the prodigy like he was more of circus attraction then a 12 year old. It had mentioned that he also took care of his sick mother, and with his hyperfixation on finding a cure to schizophrenia, you’d connected the dots.

But you still didn’t want to assume.

“Hey Spence, why’re you so set on finding a cure?” You ask, gesturing to the 8th book on schizophrenia you’d seen him read in the 3 months you’ve known him.

“My mother” he says, closing the book and placing it infront of him. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m curious about what goes on in the mind of Spencer Reid” you smile “though, I’m sure you could tell me exactly what’s happening up there, down to the chemicals”, he laughs at that

“I could give you an idea” he says, you hover your hands over the book, he nods, you open it to the last page.

“508 pages, how long would that take you to read?” You ask

“A little under 10 minutes, if I had to guess, I don’t know how many words are on each page” he says

“Well I’m not counting so I guess we’re gonna have to stick with an estimate” you joke, he smiles again.

You sit in silence for a minute, just looking at each other, and the book. There’s a light tension, unasked questions float between you.

“Can I be invasive?” You ask, Spencer nods

“You usually don’t ask first” he smiles

“You suck” you reach to hit his arm, you don’t. “I won’t hit you before asking about your sick mother, actually”

“I appreciate that” he laughs “but what do you want to know?”

“What’s her name?” You ask, he seems a little shocked.

“Diana.”

“And you take care of her?” You already know the answer, but he’d never said it explicitly.

“Yea” he nods, he looks at you like he knows what you’ll ask next

“Well, tell me if there’s ever anything I can do to help. Her or you, I can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to do alone, props to you spence” you smile, and if someone saw his face right now, they’d assume you asked him- well not many questions would dumbfound Spencer Reid but that’s not the point.

“You’re not gonna ask if I hate it? Or if I want to put her in a home?” He asks, sounding more confused than you’d ever seen him

“Do you want me to ask that?” You counter.

“No.. not really” he looks at his hands, which are rubbing together. A nervous habit of his you’d picked up on rather quickly.

“Well then I won’t ask it” you smile, so does he.

It’s a week later when he tells you why he’d been so shocked that day.

You were on his front porch, about to meet his mother for the first time. He said she’d been having a good day, and though you weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, he said it with enough excitement that you decided to just ask later.

“When you first asked about my mom, you asked what her name was” he says, you nod.

“Thats usually my starting point, yea” you laugh softly “why, was that the wrong thing to ask?”

“No- no no no. It was the perfect thing to ask! I just- you were the first person to ask what her name was before you asked about what’s wrong with her” he says, and he looks sad, so you offer a hand. You know he’ll say no, but you don’t miss how he smiles everytime you offer.

“Wanna tell me about her? I never know what I’m walking into meeting my friends parents, I would’ve brought her flowers but I didn’t know what kind she liked” you say, and his smile goes from soft to wide and bright.

He is ineffably beautiful.

“She likes lilies” he smiles “and she’s really nice, when she’s, yknow” you just nod. And then he holds out his hand, you take it. And that’s the first time you ever touched Spencer Reid.

You met his mother that night, it was uneventful, but it was nice.

That’s a lot of your friendship with Spencer. Uneventful, but nice. More than nice, it’s wonderful. He’s wonderful. You’re there when he gets his first PHD at 17, your there when he has to put his mother into assisted living, you’re there when he gets the letter saying he’s been invited to the FBI academy, you even drive him to go meet Agent Gideon.

You see him off at the airport when he goes to Quanico.

And that’s the last time you see your best friend.

After a while weekly phone calls became monthly, and monthly became and occasional text on birthdays and holidays and informing the other of big achievements, but by his 3rd year as an agent, friendships were hard to maintain.

You’d accepted never seeing your friend again.

Spencer hoped he’d never see you again, because he knew he didn’t have the guts to reach out, and he knew that the only time his teammates seemed to see old friends was when they were a part of a case.

But he also knew you.

And he recognized your necklace the second he saw the pictures Penelope had on the screen.

“The second and third victims haven’t been found, but they’re believed dead” JJ says, Spencer barely hears it.

“I need air” is all he manages to say as he rushes out of the room. Derek went after him and caught him as he collapsed.

“Hey man, what’s goin on?” Derek asked him, holding onto Spencer’s shaking shoulders as he tries to stay upright.

“I can’t- she can’t- she can’t be dead” his words were barely audible and even less coherent.

“Do you know one of the victims?” Derek asked, and Spencer nodded.

He more than knew you, he’d held you while you cried, he’d slept in your bed the night his mom went into care, you were the only person there for him at his graduations, he’d helped you decorate your first apartment. You were so much more than someone he knew. And you were so much more than victim number 3.

“Spencer? Hello?” Derek’s hand waved infront of Spencer’s face as he zoned back into reality.

“Sorry” I he muttered as he started to stand up. He and Derek walked back into the briefing room, he doesn’t apologize for his outburst, he just sits and waits for Penelope and JJ to continue. They do.

“Well, 3 girls went missing in New York City within a span of a week. The reason we’re on this case is because they all worked for the same law firm”

Spencer takes a shuttering breath.

“The first victim, whose body was found dumped in a dumpster by a homeless man, was 56 year old Mrs. Shelly Kailee, a lawyer at Shelly and Dylan law firm, she was a co-owner along with her Husband Dylan. The two other victims, who are still currently missing, are Darleen Calvin, and Y/N L/N. Darleen is 28 and a practicing attorney at the same law firm, she’s only been practicing there for a few months after graduation from University of New York in January. Y/N is 25 and is working as a receptionist at the law firm while working on her law degree at Cornell. Both girls are reportedly very sociable and very kind, but from what we’ve been told, Y/N seemed to be more acquainted with everyone while Darleen seemed to just have a large group of friends. That’s the only information we have on them” JJ says. It seems everyone’s eyes drifted to Spencer, but his were dead set on your face on the projector. Smiling. You had the same smile. You were still wearing the same necklace you wore every day since he gave it to you at 18 when you graduated. You were still as beautiful as he remembered.

“She wouldn’t let anyone take her to a second location, not without a fight. We’re probably looking at a fairly athletic man, unless we find out that she sent someone her location. Then it’s probably someone charismatic, charming, played himself as a friend” he says, and everyone nods.

“You think she’d fall for that?” Morgan asks, he gets a few glares. But Spencer nods. “I think I saw her have a conversation with a homeless man once because she thought he might be lonely.” He says “so yes”. Hotch clears his throat “Spencer is there any possibility she’s.. changed since you knew her?”. Spencer shakes his head “we only really fell completely out of touch a few months back, she seemed pretty much the same the last time I called her, which was probably 6 months ago”

You could’ve cut the tension with a knife.

“Spencer I’m sorry-“ Emily says, he cuts her off.

“You can be sorry if we find a body” he says. And they get the message.

“Wheels up in 10” Hotch says.

Spencer works that case like a dog. There’s not a moment where he isn’t doing something to find you. Something to make sure you’re okay.

A few times, Derek had to pull him out of the police precinct, just so he’d get a couple hours of sleep.

He was beside himself.

Then the tapes showed up.

On the front steps of the police station, there was a box, with 4 tapes, each labeled with a date of the days you’d been missing, the most recent being from the day before.

The first started with a voice they later confirmed to be Shelly’s. A final message to her husband and kids. Tearful messages to each one about how much she loved them. And then a gunshot.

The second tape was worse. It was of you and Darleen. Spencer recognized your voice immediately, he could tell you were holding back tears. Darleen on the other hand was sobbing. You were both pleading for you life. You were a bit more composed, and he quickly recognized some of what you were saying as examples he’d said to you when talking about what usually does and doesn’t work on killers.

He never intended you to have to put those lessons to use.

And the selfish part of him wonders if you thought of him when you spoke.

The 3rd tape is the shortest. It’s just a gunshot and a scream. Your scream. He, for the first time in his life, sincerely hopes that you watched someone get killed.

The final tape is just you.

And it breaks him.

There’s a few seconds of silence before your voice starts.

“This is a message for Spencer Reid, and the rest of the FBI. My name is Y/N, and if you’re listening to this. I am dead.”

And his face falls.

“Spence, meeting you in highschool was the greatest thing I’ve ever done. And I love you, I love you so much Spencer. And I hope-“ the tape ends.

Spencer listens to that tape another dozen times.

The cops find Darleen’s body before lunch.

He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He listens to the tape again. And then it hits him.

You had never once said you met Spencer in highschool. You always, always made it a point to say that you were in highschool, but he wasn’t.

And it was currently summer, and the highschool was empty.

“Guys I know where she is-“

Hotch cut him off with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Spencer she’s dead” he said, his voice wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t gentle either. Spencer could’ve punched him.

“They’re at the highschool. Trust me” his voice was shaking, not with doubt, but with fear. Fear that both he and Hotch were right, and that in a couple hours he’d see you again under the worst possible circumstances.

But they went anyway.

He was zoned out most of the car ride, ignoring Derek’s questions of if he’s sure he can handle this.

For Spencer, it doesn’t matter if he thinks he can, because he has too.

He’s a few feet past the doorway when it really sinks in that he might leave the building again with your lifeless body in his arms. He pushes the thought aside. It felt like betrayal not to try and have hope, because for Spencer, you were hope incarnate. It would feel disrespectful to take that from you without asking first.

He heard it before anyone else did.

He all but ripped the door open, the local PD turning on their heels at his aggressive movements.

But there you were, in a chair, sobbing into your binds. He was infront of you in seconds, shouting for someone to cut the ropes holding your wrists and ankles as he removed the cloth from your mouth.

“You’re okay, you’re alright now, I’ve got you” his hands gently holding your cheeks as you leaned forward into his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso once they were cut free.

“I knew you’d come- I knew it. I told him but he said you wouldnt find me so- so in the tape- oh my god did he send you the tapes?” He cut off your manic rambling with soft shushing

“I know you knew, you always know, and yes we got the tapes. You did good, you did everything perfect. I understood.” He assured you, running his hands through your hair.

Emily came up to you and Spencer, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Does she know where he is?” She asks.

He starts to speak, but you do it first. “Maybe the janitors closet? Or the bathroom? He- he made us scrub the floors, he was like- he was psychotic about it” you say, she nods and leaves the room, Spencer just tucks your head back under his chin.

“You’re doing so well” he whispers

“Spencer I want to leave” you cry

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you out of here” he says, slipping his arm under your knees and lifting you. You probably could’ve walked, but no one was shocked that he chose to carry you out.

He asked the EMTs more questions than your frazzled mind could even think of.

“Dr.Reid, she’s going to be fine. It’s cuts and bruises and maybe a few pulled muscles, she will be fine once she gets some fluids and a good meal in her system. “

He still didn’t believe it.

He didn’t believe it when the nurses told him the same thing, he didn’t believe it on the car ride back to the precinct after you were discharged, and he didn’t believe it when you sat next to him during your cognitive interview.

He’d fought Hotch about giving you one, but Hotch said that having a solid story will help make sure the man who did this is kept in prison for as long as possible, and you’d volunteered.

“You really dont have to” he says, you shake your head

“Spence i can handle it” you say

“Im not leaving your side.” He insists, you laugh a bit, which all but calms him down.

“I didnt think you would.” You offer your hand, and for the first time he accepts the invitation.

The interview makes you cry, which could’ve been predicted, but it still breaks Spencer’s heart.

After that he sets a semi-permanent ban on anyone asking you about what happened.

JJ brings you a change of clothes and you thank her profusely as she walks you to the bathroom and helps you wash your face and body as best as you can with wet paper towels.

Spencer anxiously waits outside.

“She’s with JJ, man. You can go outside and take a breather if you need” Derek offers.

“I’ll go outside and take a breather with Y/N when they’re done. Im sure this isnt where she wants to be right now.” Spencer says, Derek sighs.

“Spence, that girl might be one of the most well adjusted victims we’ve ever seen, she’ll be okay if you step away for 5 minutes-“ Spencer cuts him off

“I wont” he says “do you not get that? She’s well adjusted, Im not. I am not well adjusted to almost losing her and im not well adjusted to having her back so Derek would you please stop suggesting that I need space from her because space from her is the last thing I need right now” they stand in silence for a minute until you leave the bathroom.

“Spence? Everything okay?” JJ asks as she walks out of the bathroom after you, you quickly finding your place leaning against Spencer’s side.

“Yea we’re good” Derek answers for him, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, and leaving with a small nod of understanding.

Spencer guides you outside.

He sits next to you on the bench outside the precinct, your head on his shoulder and his arm around you.

“Im really glad you picked up on that” you say

“Picked up on what?” He asks, his hand moving from next to you on the bench to your lap, resting on top of your own.

“The highschool thing, i honestly didnt know if he’d even send the tapes, kinnda figured he was making them for himself” you say, interlacing your fingers with his “but I figured it was worth a shot”

“It was smart” he says, squeezing your hand “took me awhile to realize”

“Did it?” You ask “and here i was thinking you were a genius. Spencer when have i ever skipped a chance to brag about you?” You smile at him, he shrugs.

“I was under a little stress” he says, pulling you closer.

“I know, im sorry I scared you”

“Dont apologize, this is not your fault. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” You just nod.

There’s silence for a while, it could’ve been hours, neither of you would’ve noticed, or minded.

“Do you want to move in with me?” He says it before he even realized he thought it, immediately looking just as shocked as you. “I am so sorry- i just- well i figured-“

“Spencer” you grab his hand. “We’ll talk about it” you say, and that seems to be the right answer as he wraps you into a hug.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay” he whispers, you nod.

“It doesn’t require moving in for us to stay in contact” you say

“But you’re so far” you just nod in response. “I dont want to lose you again” he whispers

“Spence you didnt lose me, im alright-” he stops you

“Thats not what i meant. Not entirely” he clarifies, you sigh and pull him into another long hug.

“My lease ends next month” you hum

“See you in Virginia next month?” He asks, you smile

“We’ll talk about it”

There’s never a conversation about if you’ll move in. Spencer just Venmo’s you (he got Garcia to teach him how) 300 bucks along with “plane ticket or take out dinner for a week” which makes you laugh, and it also makes you call him to ask approximately how much of your stuff would fit in his apartment, he says he’ll make as much space as you need.

A month later you show up to one of Rossi’s dinner parties hand in hand with Spencer, JJ hands Derek 20 bucks, and slowly, everything falls back into place.

(PS: Spencer makes sure you have everything you need to finish school online because he’ll be damned if you gave up your dreams for a man, even if he himself is that man.)

Remember to reblog with feedback!! Reblogs make the world go round and feedback helps artists keep creating!

This might be the longest fic ive ever written. This took 2 days and a few tears but finally it’s done. Im tagging the pookies bc Ykw i worked too hard not too @the-phantom-author @thesockbehindthewashingmachine @mariasont @st4rgzer @canonically-a-genloser

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

378 notes · View notes

chrisgetsmewet · 1 day

Text

Birthday girl

warning: smut, cheating, p in v sex

summary: it's you birthday and your bestfriend is making you cake! she had to leave for some ingredients and left you home alone with her bf. She should've known you guys liked eachother right?

A/n: first time writing smut go easy on me😭🙏

"alright guys, theres a shop that sells butter cream just an hour away from here" riley shouts tiredly, grabbing her coat by the door. "Couldve sworn I'd already picked some up. but anything for the birthday girl. also make sure to keep an eye on the oven!"

"riley we're not that incompetent" matt rolles his eyes.

"of course, we got it!" you answer as she leaves, and turn to face matt."you should be nicer to her"

"i am nice" he responds. "besides your the birthday girl, it's you i should be nice to"

"but she's your girlfriend. you have to be nice to her all year round." you put the empty batter bowl in the sink as matt stares at you across the kitchen, leaning against the counter top.

"Im about as nice to her as she is to me" he murmurs and you look back in confusion. were they having issues and you didn't know about them?

"that couldn't be farther from the truth, riley is the perfect girlfriend and you-" you paused looking at him up and down with a light scowl. "-well you're you"

"ah, so you think im not good enough for her how cliche y/n" he gives you a look of displeasure. "and what is it that makes me so unworthy of her"

"look you're not a bad person, you're just.." you sigh struggling to put your thoughts into words. "look at it this way- riley is a person thats rare to find. she manages to be successful and beautiful while also being humble and kind- i know for a fact she would do anything for you. and she's even driving an hour to get frosting for me her bestfriend. thats the kind of person she is" you ramble on, walking around the kitchen as matt stares at you in fascination.

"and then theres you, who has forgotten ever anniversary and put your job over her, because you think it's just so much more important. you see where im getting at?"

matt furrows his eyebrows as he processes what you're trying to say and you think he might get mad at you for a second, but to your relief he cracks a bright smile.

"don't get me wrong im just as much as a mess as you are. and just as unworthy." you laugh and a puzzling smirk crosses his face.

"so you're saying i should be with someone who better suits me?

"yes, exactly."

"someone like... you?" he raises an eyebrow.

you chuckle nervously and take a step back, suddenly aware of how close he's gotten.

"obviously not. I-I didn't mean for it to sound like that" stuttering, you try to move away from him but he doesn't budge, his tall figure towering over you. that stupid smirk plastered on his face increases your heart rate.

"whats the matter sweetheart?" he sneers

"stop playing around" you push him away by his chest and escape to the sofa, slumping down in it with a huff.

"riley told me about the little crush you had on me." he stands behind you and you refuse to face him, consumed with embarrassment.

"crush is a strong word for whatever that was" you feel your cheeks burning up at the memory; when you first met matt at a party, you'll admit you wanted him all to yourself. but what were you supposed to do when riley got to him first? You can't believe she told him.

"so you don't find me attractive anymore?" He asks in that provocative tone of his.

"the outside is fine but the inside could use some work." you feign confidence, avoiding the question. to be truthful, you found him incredibly attractive. So much so that you actively avoided him because you felt yourself folding under pressure anytime he was near.

"can i let you in on a little secret?" he asked quietly, taking a seat in the footstool across the sofa.

"no, but i have a feeling your gonna tell me anyway" you brace yourself.

"the night i saw you and riley at the party playing pool" he begins. "i wanted to approach you not her"

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"but she came up to me first and when i asked her who her bestfriend was, she told me you weren't intrested... in men." your mouth falls open at his words.

"I-I don't know what to say." You stutter, feeling a small sense of betrayal run through you. "I dunno why she would do that"

"because she knew she couldn't stand a chance otherwise." He gets up to sit next you and you tense up at his knee lightly brushing past yours.

"i thought you were a lesbian half the time I've known you- until you started dating that loser a few months ago and riley had to come clean. She thought id find it funny." he curls his lips in disgust.

"and did you?"

"No." He responds. blue eyes staring right through you. "Im still mad about it."

"matt.." you cautiously murmur, sensing the direction this could take.

"Im just saying, remember that next time you want to rant about how great she is. if it wasn't for her lying we would have been together" he rests his hand on your leg but you swiftly brush it off.

"but it's not. And it never will be. you'll always either be her boyfriend or her ex. either way your off limits." You try to assert some boundaries before your self control completely slips away from you.

"and if it weren't for these limits?" He reaches his hand up, tucking your hair behind his ear.

"Oh god, the cake! must go check on the cake" you get up, trying to escape his grasp but he pushes you back down.

"i said if it weren't for those limits?" He repeats sternly and you can't help but fixate on his pink rosy lips. you'd always wondered what they felt like pressed up against yours.

"in another universe if it wasn't her it would be me." you sigh, walls crumbling down "id be yours."

"is that what you want" he mutters, barely above a whisper.

"it doesn't matter. lets face reality" you shuffle back a little in an attempt to impose some distance between.

"Fuck reality. I want you." he pulls you in and you're hit with a wave of warmth radiating off his firm body.

"matt, no. Riley is my bestfriend! im not a homewrecker" you cry out, unsure whether your trying to convince him or yourself.

"you cant wreck something thats already falling apart. i dont care about her- i don't care about any of it anymore. For gods sake i even hid the buttercream because i wanted her to leave us alone for a while." Your mouth gapes open at his revelation

"I knew it!" You point your finger at him and he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you onto him, faces barely inches apart.

"i need you. In every way possible" his voice is so breathy it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

"ugh matt I- "

"Do you want me as much as i want you? please y/n" he whines and you bite your lip over the beautiful desperation in his words.

"Of course i want you, i always have." The words barely leave your mouth before he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you sloppily, grip on your jaw a little to strong. he was gasping for air, stubbornly holding onto you like it's the last kiss he'd ever have.

"don't worry about her, I'll take care of everything" he rubs your cheek with his thumb comfortingly and you feel all your worries melt away; he was here, he would fix it all.

"I've thought about this for so long" you cry, pawing at him. the sense of elation you felt at finally being able to touch him, inhale him, taste him- after an enternity of pushing every feeling down. You did it all out of respect of riley, out of respect of matt who chose her- but now that you learned the truth, restraint flew out the window. He should've been yours- he is yours.

"Lie down for me sweetheart, i wanna see my pretty girl" he pushes you down onto the sofa and inches your skirt down, admiring your pretty pink panties. "You wear these just for me?" You nod frantically, it was true you wore everything for him. Your best underwear, your prettiest lipstick/lipgloss, your shortest little skirts, it was all for him. He pushes your top up slowly, messy kisses being planted all over your tummy until he reaches your perky tits.

"Is there a reason you don't have a bra on baby?"

"Mhm, it's fun watching your urge to stare everytime they move"

(this conversation their having is making me cringe yall but i gotta do what i gotta do😭)

"you noticed that, huh?" You giggle at his honesty as he rips your top off, laughter instantly replaced with breathy moans as he squeezes your boobs harshly, sucking on your nipples.

"best pair of tits I've seen in my life" he mutters into your chest as he continues to kiss and licks all over, making you writhe underneath him.

"matt, please" you buck your hips up towards him desperately needing more. "hurry we don't know when she'll be home"

"Then thats a good thing the door bolts shut from the inside." He grins, hands trailing down between your thighs.

"no! we cant lock her out, what would she think?"

"i don't care, all i know is if i don't get enough of this pussy, im gonna lose my mind." He groans as he hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you down, pulling your panties to the side. you bashfully cover your face with your hands as he rubs your clit with his thumb and when you peak through your fingers, you see him biting his lip and curving his eyebrows into a pitiful swoop. Just as you think it can't get better, he lowers his boxers and frees his cock, heavy length slapping against his stomach. not wanting to inflate his already big ego, you try not to looked shock- but he sees right through you.

"You tryna make me feel bad, sweetheart? no problem, I'll have you squealing in a minute anyway." He confidently asserts and you feel him rubbing his tip along your soaking folds; the anticipation alone is enough to make you throw your head back.

with one sudden thrust, he pushes himself into your tight pussy and you sink your teeth into the pillow beside you to conceal some of the noise. reaching forward and grabbing it from you he tosses it aside and grabs you by the jaw.

"i want to hear every little sound you make."

"b-but someone might hear-"

"I don't give a fuck" he asserts aggressively. "Let them hear. they might as well start getting used to it." you moan at his depraved words, drool forming around your lips.

"if you want something in your mouth that bad, here" he offers his fingers- which you accept gratefully, sucking and biting on them to your hearts content. Just as you've adjusted, he slides the rest of his cock in- filling you so deeply you question how it's even possible. The mewling that proceeds boosts Matt's ego more than is healthy; you pant and whine so fervently that you look like you're on the verge of passing out. your pupils are dilated, your hair messed up, your thighs dampened from arousal and sweat.

"mm fuck- fill me up, please!" you dig your fingernails into his back as he lowers himself to kiss your wet lips, silencing your sobs and pleading if only for a moment.

"you want my cum, sweetheart? let me hear you say it"

"yes please, yes! I want you to fill me up so bad, it's the only thing i want." you ramble words barley audible over the loud sounds of smacking and squelching.

"i could never say no to you." he whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck planting open-mouth kisses.

"i need it, i need it noww." you whine, tits bouncing as he roughly pounds into you, strong hands maintaining a firm grip on your hips as he rams himself into you one last time: cum spiling from his tender cock and filling you up to the brim. Pulling out, the sensation of his cum dribbling out of you doubled with his thumb circling your clit sends you over the edge, orgasm washing over you like a tsunami, he rests his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, running your fingers through his hair.

"im gonna leave her." He softly speaks. "im leaving and im telling her about us"

your heart seizes in both panic and excitement. theres an us?

The familiar thud of footsteps in the hallway has you both scrambling to get dressed- you pull your top back down and your skirt back on but you can't find your frilly panties anywhere. Matt just about finishes zipping up his jeans when riley walks in to the sight of her very flustered-looking best friend and boyfriend, sitting oddly far apart in an unnatural position on the couch.

"Hey guys, i had to check several different stores but i finally found the right buttercream, what have you- wait, do i smell something burning?"

fuck, you forgot the cake

running over to the oven, she scrambles to pull out the smoking tray, despair takes over her face when she sees the round crust, black as cinder.

"how did you forget?!? What were you doing?" She yells, throwing the ashes straight into the trash bin and frowning at you.

"Nothing, riley. we just got carried away chatting is all 'm really sorry'. You walk over to join her in the kitchen but starting to feel matts seed leaking out of your stretched-out hole and dribbling down your thighs. Noticing the glistening sticky wetness, matt rushes over in front of you to distract his girlfriend.

"it was my fault, i said I'd keep track of time and i didn't." He explain subtly tossing a kitchen towel your way.

"classic matthew, honestly a monkey could have better management." She hisses, barging past him and opening a window to let the smoke out. "No wonder you always forget our anniversaries" he takes a shaky breath and you can see how hard he's trying to restrain himself.

"Not now" you think, giving him a knowing glare and he nods reluctantly. Riley stomps over to the bathroom and you quickly wipe the cummy mess off your thighs, giggling a little at the excitement of sneaking around. Matt rushes over and gives you a feverish kiss, whispering in your ear "she goes to bed early, you know."

maybe you wouldn't tell her just yet.

A/n: pt. 2 maybe?

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris × reader #matt × reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo

279 notes · View notes

miirohs · 2 days

Text

sore wa hanabi [k.s]

pairing: Ken Sato x GN!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: n/a an: this was inspired by hanabi by ikimonogakari and motospeed 24 by bibi, i fucking love those songs so much UGH. pls ignore the plot holes i was tired and it was like 12 when i started!!! i love writing chat

The last of the sunlight rippled across the water, a slow breeze blowing past you on the steps of the house, watching as the city seemed to come alive.

The sounds of a motorcycle in the distance distracted you, head shooting up from your knees as Professor Sato limped out of the front door, gently setting down his walking stick as he sat next to you.

“He’s coming back home then?”

It wasn’t really a question, rather a statement.

“I believe so. He was out for interviews almost all day.”

He didn’t respond, digging into the pocket of his khaki vest, pulling out a worn flyer and handing it to you.

“What is this?” You asked, gently unfolding the colorful paper.

“It was a fireworks festival. I’m sure they still hold them yearly around here, and Emiko took Kenji often when he was younger. I’ve seen it myself from the apartments sometimes, and they’re a sight to see.” He explained softly, smiling into the distance as your eyes flitted over the contents.

“I see, but what exactly-”

“I think you should go see them, you and Kenji need some alone time as well,” He didn’t let you finish, poking your leg with his walking stick, “Plus, it would be good for me and Mina because we need to get more data on Emi, and Ken won’t let us do that without breath down my shoulders about us hurting her.”

You could barely respond as he got up, limping his way back to the door without further explanation. “But Ken is going to want to see Emi and-”

“Me and Mina can take care of her if anything happens. If the boy troubles you about that, tell him I told you he was to do so. He may be Ultraman now, but I'm still his father!” He cackled, shaking his head affectionately as he closed the door gently.

The light was gone now, but you could hear the sound of his bike getting closer, rubbing your arms to regain your warmth as you waited. Soon enough, Ken appeared against the twilight sky, silhouette illuminated by the headlights of his parked bike.

“Hey baby, what are you doing out here?” he greeted, tone filled with a mixture of exhaustion and relief upon seeing you.

“The weather was nice out, and the view was gorgeous.” You responded, turning to him as he sat down next to you. “The view is gorgeous from inside too,” He joked, intertwining a hand into yours, “I don’t get why you wanna sit out here, it’s cold and you don’t even have a jacket on.”

You clutched the paper in your other, taking a deep breath in. You had no reason not to, it could be a good surprise.

“You know, i was thinking we haven’t had a proper date night since we moved here and-”

“We had a movie night though!” Ken chimed in, staring at you, confused. It was like he couldn’t see where you were going with it. “Yes, we had a movie night honey, but it was interrupted every ten minutes by the loud baby we happen to be taking care of, remember?” You said, exasperated.

“I would baby, but what about Emi?”

“Your dad and Mina can take care of her. He said you’d trouble me about it, and that I should tell you that he insists.” You tilted your head towards the city.

Ken chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like him honestly, but where do you wanna go? You gotta have something planned if you’re insisting on dragging me out.”

“I was thinking we could ride through the city, I'm pretty sure the seaside looks gorgeous at night.” You could barely hold back your smile as he wrinkled his nose, it was almost like you could see the gears turning in his head.

The exhaustion almost seemed to leave his face, a smile taking its place. “Alright, you win. Go get your jacket and meet me out here in… five?” You nodded, getting up from your spot.

“Five minutes,” you repeated to yourself softly, heading inside to grab your jacket. The excitement was building as you folded up the paper, gently hiding it in your pocket as you grabbed your helmet.

He was already near the motorcycle, leaned over the dashboard as you approached him, barely able to contain the excitement.

“I think you remember how to ride a bike, right baby?” You nodded, allowing him to put your helmet on for you, securing it till you felt comfortable. “Of course. I’m ready when you are.”

Ken winked, helping you onto the bike before climbing on himself. The engine roared to life and you wrapped your arms around his waist, adrenaline running through your veins as you started down the path. The wind was fast, seawater blowing into your face as you both skirted across the water.

The city was a blur of nightlights as you weaved through the streets, laughs of delight leaving your mouth as you turned and sped down the straights. The neon signs and billboards created a colorful mosaic, a dazzling display of light.

Ken glanced back at you briefly, shouting something at you, a wide smile on his face as he pressed down on the accelerator.

“This feels so familiar, what are you doing to make this happen baby?!” You pressed your face into his face, barely hiding the grin on your face as you shouted back. “A magician never tells Ji!”

You slowed near the city limits, allowing for you to nudge him in the direction you wanted to go. The city faded into quieter roads, riding on the outskirts of the city, the smell of the sea intermingling with the scent of his perfume. The waves crashed against the seawall, spraying you with water.

You looked up, narrowed eyes growing wide as bright lights went off in the sky.

“There, look!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the rush of wind and the distant explosions of the fireworks. You squeezed Ken’s waist, taking one hand off to point up at the sky.

He followed your hand, relaxing in awe as he watched the colorful display unfold above you. It wasn’t long until you found a place to park, Ken eagerly pulling you off the motorcycle, running down to the beach with you in hand.

“Sup- Whoa, surprise Ji!” You laughed as you both stumbled, pulling closer to the source of the lights. The sand was surprisingly cool beneath your feet as you stood on the shore, fireworks exploding in a variety of colors.

Greens, pinks and golds colored the sky, painting the dark with bangs of light, fizzling out just as quickly as they came up.

“Your mom used to bring you here before you moved, didn’t she?” You looked at him, the light reflecting in his glassy eyes, softened by nostalgia.

"Yeah, she did. How did you know?"

“I’ve heard a thing or two about your trips.” You commented to the side, allowing him to lead you aimlessly, "I thought you might like to revisit those memories." You squeezed his hand as he paused once more, turning to look at you.

“She used to call them something else- hanabi. It was the Japanese word for fireworks, I think.” He brought up a hand, wiping his eye on his free arm.

“That sounds beautiful,” You turned to him, floating closer and closer every second.

There was nothing more to be said, holding his hand with as much affection as you could, fireworks exploding somewhere in the background. The light illuminated the sharpness of his features, and you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Ken.

His lips met yours, soft yet firm. The fireworks seemed to pause for that brief moment, allowing you to be trapped in the bubble you’d made for yourselves. Ken's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if he was never going to let go.

en rested his forehead against yours as you pulled apart. His eyes scanned yours, as if trying to capture every detail of the moment to memory.

"I've missed this," Ken murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled away.

“No kidding, we should do this more often shouldn’t we?” You giggled, running your finger down the ridges of his nose, booping the tip.

Ken nodded quietly, allowing you to lean in closer once more. "Definitely. It's moments like these that make life more bearable."

You leaned in again, brushing your lips against his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The last of the embers faded into the sky, pieces of your heart drifting off with them as you watched Ken.

"Let's come back here again," Ken suggested softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "Definitely," you agreed. You could get used to it.

#ken sato imagine #ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x you #kenji sato / reader #ken sato smut #ken sato ultraman #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman rising imagine #ultraman x reader #ultraman rising #ultraman rising netflix #ken sato / reader #ultraman

308 notes · View notes

taurasiluvr · 1 day

Note

cait’s good luck head???? #needthat

YES #NEEDTHAT ASAP 🫠

before tonight's game, you had found herself knelt down in front of your very hot, very tall girlfriend. caitlin's hand was gripping your head tightly as you worked your mouth over her, taking her nice and slow like she liked it.

her eyes were glued to your face, taking in your beauty. "god, you’re so good at this," caitlin groaned, her voice rough with pleasure. "always know how to make me feel good, sweetheart."

you hummed around her, the vibration making her hips jerk forward. Her grip on your head tightened, fingers threading through your hair as she guided your movements.

"just like that, baby," she panted. "keep going."

you looked up at her, meeting her gaze with your own heated one. The intensity in her eyes made your stomach flutter, the connection between you palpable. you picked up the pace, your finger slowly dipping inside of her in time with your mouth, determined to give her exactly what she needed.

caitlin's breath hitched, her head falling back as she let out a low, throaty moan. "oh fuck, 'm so close," she gasped, her hips rocking against you. "gonna make me come so hard, baby."

you moaned in response, the sound spurring her on as she moved faster, her body tense with impending release. you redoubled your efforts, wanting nothing more than to see her fall apart because of you.

with a cry, caitlin's body stiffened, her release crashing over her in waves. "o-oh, fuck, yes!" she shouted, her fingers tightening in your hair as she held you in place.

you continued to work her through her orgasm, only pulling back when her grip loosened and her breathing began to steady. you looked up at her, a satisfied smile on your lips. "good luck charm delivered," you teased, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

caitlin let out a breathless laugh, pulling you up to your feet and into a deep kiss. "you're amazing," she murmured against your lips. "how am I supposed to focus on the game now?"

"you’ll manage," you replied with a smirk, feeling a sense of pride at how thoroughly you'd unraveled her. "just remember this when you’re out there."

"oh trust me, i will," caitlin said, her eyes still glazed with post-orgasmic bliss. "always know how to give me that extra boost, princess."

you kissed her once more, lingering for a moment before stepping back. "go get 'em, champ," you said, giving her a playful swat on the butt.

caitlin grinned, her confidence visibly restored. "i will. and when i get back, i’m going to return the favor."

your face flushed as you blew her a kiss, knowing that she will deliver, win or lose.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

229 notes · View notes

p4p1l0nn · 1 day

Text

𐙚˖˚ SUNSET SHERBET (나재민)

── masterlist. wc: 12.3k

pairing: plug!jaemin x fem!reader

content warning: 18+ angst, fluff, high sex, riding, breeding kink, unprotected sex, weed use, mutual pining, friends to lovers, mdni.

a/n: not proofread. please read at your own risk :D

like any other day, college has been stressing you out, but just when you thought college was tough enough, your workplace was even more of a hell.

the cafe is packed, and the front door constantly ringing as customers come and go. orders are piling up, and petty customers are adding to the chaos. it's the weekend, which means even more customers streaming in.

you and renjun are both pacing around, taking orders, serving drinks, and trying to keep up with the relentless flow of customers.

“i'm telling you, some weed could help your sad life.”

“yeah, well, i'll pass,” you replied, standing your ground. “i have enough on my plate.”

“boring,” renjun teased, nudging you playfully. “come on, just trying to offer a solution. you need to loosen up a bit.”

you shot him a half-hearted smile, grateful for the attempt to lighten the mood but too overwhelmed to entertain the idea. ignoring his persistent banter, you continued to hustle between the espresso machine and the cash register, trying to keep up with the orders.

“seriously, though,” renjun continued, undeterred. “my girl and i tried this new strain last night. we got so high, we ended up doing it all night. best sex ever.”

you snorted, raising an eyebrow. “wow, thanks for that mental image, renjun.”

renjun laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “don't knock it 'till you try it. weed can do wonders for your sex life.”

“right,” you replied sarcastically. “because that's exactly what i need in my life right now to get high and have mind blowing sex.”

“you never know, might help you relax,” the boy said, grinning. “just saying.”

you snapped him out of his thoughts. “get back to work.”

the cafe suddenly swarmed with more customers. the doorbell kept ringing as people streamed in, voices overlapping with the sound of a baby crying somewhere in the background. impatient customers at the counter added to the chaos, their complaints cutting through the busy atmosphere.

renjun let out a loud sigh as he served his next customer, a forced smile plastered on his face. “what can i get you?”

you caught the exchange and couldn't help but smirk at renjun's dramatic antics. he handed the woman her drink with a flourish, a sarcastic, “enjoy” barely hidden beneath his polite tone.

as she walked away, he turned to you and shrugged. “some people really need to chill.”

“maybe you should take your own advice,” you quipped, moving past him to handle another order.

he glances over at you, a tired but mischievous look in his eyes. “haechan's place tonight?” he asks, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the din of the cafe.

you know exactly what he means - a night of unwinding with good company and some weed. although you had quit smoking some time ago for various reasons, you still agreed to come by. the idea of hanging out with your friends was too tempting to resist.

after all, what's wrong with letting off a little steam? besides, maybe it would help you more than just staying cooped up in your apartment, living the 'sad life' renjun had mentioned earlier.

“if you insist,” you reply, handing over another order. “i'll come by.”

renjun grins, processing another order. “now that's my girl.”

"alright, who's ready to try this new flavour?" haechan asks, grinning as he pulls out his latest stash.

later that evening, you find yourself at haechan's apartment with jeno, and renjun. the atmosphere is relaxed and welcoming, a stark contrast to the hectic day you've had. the four of you gathered in the living room, the familiar smell of weed filling the air as haechan gets to work.

haechan takes a seat at the coffee table, setting up his rolling tray with practiced ease. he spreads out the weed, meticulously breaking it up with his fingers before reaching for the rolling papers.

as he works, he explains, "so, i found this guy and decided to try something different. this flavour isn't really my thing, but i figured you guys might like it."

renjun raises an eyebrow, looking skeptical. "this better be good. after the day we've had, i need something strong."

haechan chuckles, deftly rolling the joint with expert precision. "trust me, this is top-notch. he swears by it."

he finishes rolling, sealing the joint with a quick lick before twisting the end. he lights it, taking a slow drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke before passing it to you. "let's see what you think."

after some time, the boys convinced you to join their smoke session with haechan practically begging, insisted you had to sample his flavour of choice. eventually, you gave in.

first hit.

with the first hit, a familiar warmth spreads through your body. it's been a while, and you feel a gentle relaxation taking taking hold, softening the edges of your stress. colours seem a touch more vivid, sounds a bit more distant. it's not quiet high yet, but a comforting shift in perception, like easing into a familiar, hazy dream.

as the joint makes its way around, the conversation flows easily.

renjun leans back, blowing out a puff of smoke. "man, school is kicking my ass. i've got three assignments due next week and no idea how i'm going to finish them."

jeno nods in agreement. "same. and my part time job is no joke either. today was brutal."

second hit.

the effects deepen. your muscles loosen, and the buzz starts to settle in. the chaos of the day fades into the background, replaced by a soothing detachment. it's like entering a calmer, slower state where everything feels more peaceful.

haechan chuckles, shaking his head. "you guys think that's bad? try dealing with my boss. he's a complete nightmare. nothing i do is ever good enough."

third hit.

you suddenly recognise the familiar smell and taste strike a chord. memories flood back, and a wave of nostalgia overwhelms you. it's almost too good, a perfect match for your preferences.

renjun snorts. "remember that time we all pulled an all-nighter for that group project, and jeno fell asleep in class the next day? the professor thought he was dead."

everyone bursts out laughing, except you.

you feel a lump in your throat, emotions bubbling up unexpectedly, almost bringing tears in front of your friends.

jeno rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "yeah, well, at least i wasn't the one who spilled coffee all over the final report."

renjun groans, covering his face. "don't remind me. that was a nightmare."

haechan passes the joint to you, who takes a hit before speaking. "despite all the bullshit, i wouldn't trade these moments for anything. even if it means dealing with crazy professors and shitty jobs."

fourth hit.

the high fully sets in. you're enveloped in a comforting haze, the world around you blurring. you're usually the life of the party, but tonight, you're lost in the experience, the smoke wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

jeno, noticing your uncharacteristic silence, glances over with concern. "you alright?"

you don't answer immediately, taking another long drag and exhaling slowly. the smoke curls upwards, and you finally break your silence, voice calm yet detached. "who is this guy, again?"

haechan, mid-conversation with renjun, turns his attention to you. "why? you like it?"

in your hazy state, the familiar flavour grounds you in a way that's almost unsettling. but the emotional weight of the past lingers, making you quietly reflective. "yeah . . . really good . . ." you murmur, the words slipping out slowly as you savour the taste and the soothing effects.

haechan takes a quick drag from the joint as soon as his turn comes before replying, "jaemin. i got it from jaemin."

at the mention of jaemin's name, you freeze, the world around you momentarily coming to a standstill. jaemin. the name echoes in your mind, stirring up memories you thought you had buried long ago. you looked at haechan, your expression unreadable as you repeat, "jaemin?"

renjun and jeno exchange glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. renjun furrows his brows. "do you know him?"

you shrug nonchalantly, but your mind is racing. the name brings back a flood of emotions, memories of a past you've tried to forget. you take another puff from the joint, trying to steady your nerves. "nah, don't know him."

lie.

you knew him long before you met your three friends who now sits around you. before them, it was jaemin - your confidant, your source.

you first met jaemin through a mutual friend, someone who casually passed along a contact when you were looking for a reliable plug. the introduction was simple, just a name and a number, but it led to something much deeper. jaemin wasn't just a dealer; he became someone you could talk to, someone who understood you in ways others don't.

the first time you met jaemin, it was in a small, dimly lit room at the far end of an old apartment building. the kind of place where dealers usually meet clients, showcasing their latest stash. you had been nervous, unsure of what to expect, but jaemin approached with a casual confidence that immediately put you at ease.

"you must be y/n," he greeted with a relaxed smile, extending a hand. "i'm jaemin. come on in."

you shook his hand, trying to hide your nervousness. "that's me. thanks for meeting on such short notice."

"no problem," he replied, leading you into the room. the walls were lined with posters, and a faint smell of weed hung in the air. he gestured to a small table where various strains were laid out in neatly labeled bags. "take your pick. i've got a few new flavours you might like."

you examined the bags, intrigued by the variety. "you've got quite a selection here."

jaemin chuckled. "yeah, i try to keep things interesting. what are you in the mood for?"

you shrugged, still feeling a bit out of your element. "honestly, i'm not sure. what would you recommend?"

he picked up a bag and handed it to you. "this one's called sunset sherbet. it's my personal favourite. it's got a nice, balanced high - great for unwinding after a long day."

you considered his choice, a bit skeptical. "uh, not my typical flavour. i usually go for something stronger."

jaemin smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "i figured as much. but trust me, sometimes trying something new can surprise you. come on, let me show you."

he led you down a hallway, the walls lined with faded wallpaper and the occasional flickering light. the scent getting stronger as you move further in. you passed a few closed doors, each marked with peeling paint and numbers barely visible. the atmosphere was hushed, the kind of quiet that suggested you weren't the first to take this path.

jaemin took a sharp turn, and you followed him down another narrow corridor before he stopped at a door near the end. he opened it, revealing a cozy living room filled with mismatched furniture and the soft glow of a table lamp. the coffee table was cluttered with rolling papers, grinders, and others, creating a casual yet inviting scene.

he laid out the bag of sunset sherbet on the coffee table and gestured for you to sit down. you stood there, a bit hesitant, with a questioning look in your eyes.

"do you usually do this when a client buys from you? let them try it immediately?" you asked.

jaemin chuckled, shaking his head. "not usually, but you're not just any client. consider it a perk of being a friend."

you hesitated for a moment, then took a seat on the worn out couch. jaemin joined you, carefully preparing the weed.

"so, how did you get into this business?" you asked, trying to make conversation.

jaemin smiled as he finished rolling the joint. "long story. let's just say i found a way to make the best of a bad situation. but enough about me. let's see what you think of this sunset sherbet."

he lit the joint, took a slow drag, and handed it to you. you hesitated briefly before taking a hit, the warmth spreading through your body. as you exhaled, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

"you're right," you said, surprised by the immediate effect. "i'll take it."

jaemin nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "told you. a change is exactly what you need."

from that night on, what started as a simple transaction grew into something much deeper. late night visits became a regular occurrence, where the two of you would sit and talk for hours. he wasn't just your dealer; he became a confidant. jaemin was there during your highs and lows, offering not just goods but also a listening ear and a genuine companionship. he became a fixture in your life, a constant presence who saw you through some of your darkest times.

weeks later, you found yourself running low on your stash. debating whether or not to text jaemin, you decided to postpone. the longer you delayed, the faster your supply dwindled.

your fingers hovered over jaemin's contact, hesitating to press the dial key. you didn't know why you were so nervous, but deep down, you knew you had a thing for jaemin. those nightly talks, sweet nicknames, and his gentle mannerisms made you gush over him even more. his droopy eyes and kissable lips didn't help either.

just as you were about to put your phone away, it buzzed in your hand. jaemin was calling you first.

you answered the call, and jaemin's excited voice came through. "heyy, your stock is here! you can pick it up anytime you want."

relieved, you explained. "just in time. i ran out, so i'll come by later after work."

"perfect," jaemin replied, his tone giddy. "see you tonight, pretty."

pretty. the word lingered in your mind long after the call ended. it was something jaemin called you every now and then, a pet name that had become increasingly frequent. it hadn't been long since you first met, and you were still very much in the getting-to-know-each-other phase. despite that, the pet names had slipped into your conversations naturally, effortlessly.

you honestly didn't know where the pet names came from, but you sure did like them. each time he called you pretty, angel, princess, it sent a small thrill through you, making you feel special and seen. the casual affection in his voice when he used it hinted deeper connection, something more than just a dealer-client relationship.

and though you tried not to read too much into it, you couldn't help but hope that it meant he felt the same way about you.

your shift finally ended, and the clock pointed to seven. your shift was supposed to end at five, but your boss, being a pain in the ass, had made you work overtime. the stress and exhaustion nearly brought you to tears. at moments like this, nothing felt better than seeking comfort from jaemin and having a good smoke.

when you arrived at his place, he greeted you with a warm smile. "hey, pretty. long day?"

you sighed heavily, collapsing onto his couch. "you have no idea. my boss made me work overtime again. i'm so exhausted and stressed out, i almost cried."

jaemin nodded sympathetically, passing you a joint. "here, this will help."

you took a long drag, feeling the familiar warmth. "thanks, jaemin. i just need to forget about today."

he sat down next to you, his presence comforting. "anytime. tell me what happened."

you vented, the words pouring out as you recounted the day's frustrations. "it was nonstop. customers were demanding, my boss was on my case the whole time, and then, just when i thought i could leave, he made me stay for two more hours. i'm so tired of this."

jaemin listened intently, nodding and offering soothing words. "that sounds awful, princess. you shouldn't have to put up with that."

you took another hit, feeling the tension start to melt away. "i know right? it's just so overwhelming. i needed this tonight. i needed to see you."

he smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so your head now lay on his. "you can always count on me."

as you continued ranting about your day, jaemin seemed to shift. something had triggered him. you looked like a mess - smeared mascara hinted at your frustration, your eyes were getting heavy either from the goods or exhaustion, and your white collared barista uniform was unbuttoned with a little splash of coffee staining it. despite all this, in his eyes, you looked as stunning as ever, just like the first time you stepped into his apartment to check out his various stash.

laying comfortably on his couch while smoking his go-to flavour, sunset sherbet, you seemed so at ease. he could ruin you right here and now, but that would only jeopardise the fragile stages of your budding friendship. jaemin wasn't one to easily fall for a woman, but you were exceptional. a perfect match for him.

"you're not listening, nana," you pouted, using the nickname that made his insides twisted.

jaemin's breath hitched, feeling a rush of arousal wash over him. your eyes were half lidded and glassy from the weed, giving you a dreamy, sultry look that made it hard for him to concentrate. your lips, slightly parted and inviting, sent his mind into a whirlwind.

his gaze lingered on your face, tracing the curves of your cheeks and the way your lashes fluttered as you blinked slowly. the intimate setting, combined with a haze of smoke and your closeness, made him on edge. he couldn't deny the fuzzy, intoxicating feelings bubbling up within him. even through the haze, his heart race.

he was losing his grip on reality, each moment spent in your presence chipping away at your resolve. the room seemed to shrink around him, focusing his entire world on you and the undeniable pulsed between you two.

he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing, but the more he tried to fight it, the stronger his feelings became.

with a careful hand, he reached up and gently moved a few strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your skin. the touch was soft, almost reverent, as if he was afraid you might vanish if he moved too quickly.

his eyes never left yours, taking in the way your pupils were dilated, reflecting the low light and the effects of the weed, and he found himself leaning in closer, drawn to you by an invisible force.

you felt your heart race, each beat echoing in your ears. the intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his hand as he tucked your hair behind your ear, sent shivers down your spine. you didn't back away. deep down, you knew it was wrong, but it felt too right.

"do you trust me, princess?" jaemin's voice was a low whisper, barely audible but resonating deep within you. you nodded slowly, your eyes never leaving his.

jaemin couldn't resist any longer. "fuck, can i kiss you?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

if he hadn't been swept up in this moment, he wouldn't have known when the right time would be to share it with you. but now, he knew with absolute certainty that he wanted you. no, he needed you.

you were already floating high in the clouds, overwhelmed by his closeness and the heat between you. without a word, you nodded eagerly, inviting him to close the distance between you.

and everything happened in the blink of an eye.

that night marked the beginning of something unforgettable for both of you. from then on, you found yourselves in each other's beds more often than not. the cycle became predictable; work, weed, sex.

it was bad, but jaemin had an invisible string tied to you, one you couldn't resist following. his presence was intoxicating, and you craved him like a drug.

the problem was that as time went on, you two never took the time to talk about what you were to each other. your relationship remained undefined, just two friends with an intense physical attraction. every visit to each other's houses led to the same outcome.

all it took was one mistake for everything to come crashing down. and just like that, he was simply gone.

you have grown to hate the taste and the fruity smell of his go-to, but nonetheless, you smoked it to cope with his absence. each inhale was a way to pretend he was still there with you, that you could almost believe he was still with you, even if only for a moment.

days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. you finally decided to stop smoking for good. you hated every bit of you smelling like him. the smell lingered on your skin longer than you thought, and it made your heart ache.

you hated it. you hated him. you hated how you could still clearly replay those moments in your head. you just hated it and swore to never ever touch those goods again.

but one thing was clear; jaemin meant more to you than you had admitted, even to yourself. the question was, did he feel the same way? and if he did, where would that leave you both?

so yes, you sort of knew him. or at least you knew a version of him that you desperately wish could have stayed. the reality of his name now, after so many years, is like a cruel joke, reminding you of everything that went wrong and everything you lost.

they eye you suspiciously, but they let the subject drop. you take another long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and block out the ache in your heart. the burn is a welcome distraction, momentarily numbing the pain that's settled deep inside.

with a heavy sigh, you pass the joint to the next person, watching the ember glow faintly in the dim light.

as you stare blankly at the swirling patterns in the air, renjun's voice cuts through your train of thought. "roll us another joint, will ya?" the boy says.

you reach for the baggie of goods, your fingers tracing over the familiar texture. you pull out a small nugget and examine it closely.

there, written proudly on the label, is the name sunset sherbet.

you fucked up. and it's haechan's fault.

who convinced you to start smoking again after you quit? haechan did. who kept pushing you to try that strain until you got hooked? haechan did. and who made you smoke more than you ever intended? haechan did and it's always him.

"please, hyuck, i'm running out and i don't have the time to pick 'em up," you beg, voice tinged with desperation.

haechan shakes his head, rejecting your plea yet again. "i've told you a hundred times, you need to go get it yourself."

you groan, the frustration building up inside you. "i can't. i have too much going on right now. can't you just help me out this once?"

he sighs, clearly tired of the same argument. "why is it always me who has to pick up your orders? why can't you ever do it yourself?" he complains, his annoyance evident.

"alright, look, i'll text him for you," haechan says, relenting a bit. "but you have to go get it yourself. deal?"

you're fucked yet again. you start to protest, but haechan shushes you by flicking your forehead. "i don't know what's going on with you, but if i calculate it correctly, you and that jaemin guy must have something going on," he says, his tone half-joking but with a hint of suspicion.

you shove him lightly. "pfft of course not, w-we don't ha- we never- i'm not- ugh. what makes you say that?"

haechan raises his eyebrow. "you want me to tell you? the list goes on, darling," he replies cryptically, suggesting he's been quietly gathering evidence of your connection with jaemin.

your thoughts spiral into a complicated mess. you really don't want to see jaemin. five years have passed since that first night, the night he disappeared without a word, leaving you high and dry.

the idea of showing up at his door now feels strange and unsettling. memories of that night flood your mind - the intensity, the vulnerability, and then the empty silence that followed.

what would he think of you now, turning up after all this time? would he even care? or worse, would he even remember you? the embarrassment of holding onto hope for his return, of feeling foolish for still having feelings, gnaws at you.

you sigh, feeling a heavy weight settle in your chest. "alright, fine," you finally concede, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. "i'll go."

"shit, now i feel bad," haechan says suddenly, breaking your reverie.

you eye him weirdly. "what? why?"

"by the look on your face, you really want to avoid him," haechan replies, his tone softer. "i don't know what's going on in that pretty head of yours, but i just know there was something," he hints, clearly fishing you to spill.

"you're so nosy," you mutter, giving him a half hearted glare.

he just shrugs. "it's part of my charm."

desperate to restock, you sigh inwardly. it's better than none. you figure you could just take your order and leave, easy, like a typical client and dealer transaction. you hope jaemin doesn't remember you, making this interaction as simple as possible.

"can't you just do it for me?" you plead one last time, even though you know his answer.

haechan shakes his head, but there's a glint of mischief in his eyes. "i'll tell you what- if you tell me whatever's going on, i'll come with you. deal?"

you hesitate, weighing your options. facing jaemin alone feels daunting, but having haechan by your side might make it bearable. finally, you nod. "fine. i'll tell you on the way. but no questions."

the boy in front of you grins, satisfied. "that's more like it. let's get this over with then!"

the clock struck midnight. he lay sprawled on his couch, exhaustion evident after a busy day hustling to fulfill customer orders across town. normally, in such moments, he'd unwind with a glass of wine and a smoke. but tonight was different.

staring at the muted tv screen, jaemin couldn't shake the feeling of missing you even more than usual. he longed for the familiarity of your presence, the way your scent used to linger in the air after you left. the memory of your laugh and the small details about you - like the way you absentmindedly twirled your hair when lost in thought - haunted him.

just then, his doorbell rang, breaking the silence that had settled around him like a heavy blanket. he sighed, reluctantly dragging himself off the couch. jaemin hurried to grab the customer's order, hoping to make the meeting brief. he's not in the mood to entertain anyone or engage in small talk.

"sorry to bother you so late, but you know how it is." said haechan.

jaemin nodded, his gaze carefully assessing the items in the baggie to ensure everything was correct before handing it over to haechan. among them, he noticed the sunset sherbet strain - a familiar sight that stirred memories that he had tried so hard to forget.

originally, sunset sherbet wasn't meant to be sold; it has been reserved for you, packed and ready for whenever you needed to restock after that first night you and jaemin spent together. but you never returned for your orders after that specific night, and jaemin understood why.

he blamed himself for not reaching out, for letting you slipped away without a word.

in the years since you stopped coming over, jaemin had reluctantly given up your packs to other clients. he had even stopped supplying sunset sherbet altogether, unable to bring himself to smoke it despite it being his favourite strain long before it became yours.

the mention of sunset sherbet still brought a pang of sensitivity, a guilt he carried for not handling things differently.

"you grew to like them?" jaemin asked, attempting to keep the conversation light.

haechan shrugged nonchalantly. "my friend here is," he gestured towards you beside him, "she's actually your regular. right, y/n?"

you mentally cursed him, vowing that he'd be dead for sure later. you should have known better than to have told him in the first place.

jaemin froze at the mention of your name. y/n. he repeated it silently in his head, his heart sinking. jaemin had yet to notice your presence. he had only opened the door slightly, obscuring his view and keeping you out of his sight for the moment.

he hesitated for a moment before opening the door wider, allowing him a clearer view. sure enough, there stood a figure beside haechan. he strained to see your face, hoping for confirmation, but the cap covering half of your face and your lowered head made it difficult.

the familiar posture, however, gave him a strong sense that it was indeed you. despite the uncertainty, a rush of emotions swept through him at the sight of you standing there.

he had been trying so hard to forget about you, to erase you completely from his mind. for years, he convinced himself that distancing himself would bring peace, but it was an impossible task. the more he tried to push you away, the more your memory lingered, haunting him like a relentless ghost.

all the guilt and unresolved emotions he buried deep within resurfaced at the sight of you. his attempts to move on felt futile in that moment, as if time had stood still since the day you disappeared from his life.

"y/n i-"

"we'll take the pack and leave," haechan cut in before jaemin could even finish his sentence.

jaemin just stood there, hoping for you to look at him. but you stood emotionless, not daring to look up, though you felt his gaze piercing through you.

"earth to jaemin?" haechan's voice broke the silence, waving his hand in front of jaemin's face.

jaemin snapped out of his daze and shakily handed the weed to haechan. "it's on the house," he muttered, before slamming the door in their faces.

your phone buzzed incessantly, the screen lighting up with the same name over and over again. you dreaded seeing it, much less talking to him.

not even a full minute would pass before another call came in. the constant ringing grated on your nerves, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

"for fuck's sake, aren't you gonna answer that?" renjun snapped, glaring at you from across the table.

you sighed, picking up your phone and staring at jaemin's name flashing on the screen. the thought of answering made your stomach churn, but ignoring it didn't seem to be an option anymore.

with a deep breath, you swiped to answer the call, bringing the phone to your ear. "hi," you said flatly, not giving much away in your tone.

there was a moment of silence on the other end before jaemin's voice came through, sounding surprised and unsure. "uh, hey, h-hi . . . i didn't expect you to pick up."

you could almost hear the tension in his voice, the same unresolved feelings that you were trying to bury. but you kept your tone neutral, not wanting to reveal any of the turmoil inside. "well, i did. what do you want, jaemin?"

renjun shot you a curious glance but stayed silent, focusing back on his task.

jaemin cleared his throat, seemingly gathering his thoughts. "i, uh, counted the days since you got your last stock. figured you might be running low by now," he said, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the underlying tension. "i've already packed your new stash if you need it."

you rolled your eyes, the irritation evident on your face. "you counted the days?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief. "jaemin, i don't need you to keep tabs on my supply."

renjun looked up again, eyebrows raised, clearly intrigued by the conversation. but you ignored his curious glance, focusing on the phone call.

jaemin let out a nervous chuckle. "just thought i'd check up on you, make sure you're okay," he said, his voice softer now. "you know, in case you needed anything."

you sighed, feeling the weight of his words and the memories they stirred. "i'm fine. i don't need anything from you," you replied, trying to sound firm despite the flicker of doubt in your heart.

jaemin cleared his throat, hesitant but determined. "look, i know this is out of the blue, but can we meet up? just to talk. i can bring your stock, and we can catch up."

a wave of panic surged through you. meeting him again felt like reopening old wounds. "i can't," you said quickly, grasping for an excuse. "i'm really busy with work."

jaemin's voice softened, almost pleading. "it doesn't have to be long. just a quick meet-up. please, y/n. i want to fix things. i need to see you."

your heart clenched at his words. "i said no. it's not a good idea," you replied, your voice barely concealing the fear of history repeating itself.

there was a long pause, and you could almost hear jaemin's frustration and disappointment. "alright," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "just . . . take care of yourself, okay?"

you ended the call with a terse "you too," and set your phone down, your heart pounding in your chest.

meeting him again had been a coincidence, not something you had wished for. it felt like jaemin had come back into your life on his terms, not yours, as if he was oblivious to the pain his disappearance had caused.

you had been scared, no, terrified, that letting him back in would only lead to more heartache. the fear that he would vanish again, leaving you to pick up the pieces, was paralyzing. you couldn't go through that again. the thought of opening yourself up to him, only to be left high and dry once more, was too much to bear.

renjun, sensing your turmoil, finally spoke up. "you okay?"

you forced a weak smile, hoping to deflect his concern. "yeah. i'm fine. i'll be fine."

you knew it was going to be a long week.

a week had passed since your phone call with jaemin. part of you felt relief that the conversation was over. yet, deep down, a small part of you still hoped for him to call.

you tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing on the present moment with renjun. his arm slung casually around your shoulder as you walked together, humming a tune under his breath. the ice cream shop was just ahead, a cozy spot with its familiar red-and-white awning.

you were glad it wasn't a long walk, and to top it all off, it wasn't far from your workplace; just a few stores away from the cafe you worked.

renjun nudged you playfully. "go find us a seat. i'll handle the important stuff-ordering your ice cream."

you chuckled, shaking your head at his antics. "alright, but don't take too long. you know i'm picky about my ice cream."

he rolled his eyes, mock offense crossing his face. "picky? you're lucky i'm getting it for you at all."

he returned with a cup of strawberry ice cream for you. the moment you saw it, a wave of memories washed over you, and you were transported back to those nights with jaemin.

you and jaemin used to go on night walks, the kind where the air was cool, and the city was quieter. he always ordered chocolate or mint, never strawberry. "strawberry is for kids," he used to say, scrunching his nose in mock disgust. but you loved it.

one night, you had playfully insisted, "just try it, nana. come on, you’ll ike it."

he had rolled his eyes but leaned in, taking a hesitant lick of your strawberry ice cream. the exaggerated face he made afterward had you doubling over with laughter. "ugh, it's like eating sweet toothpaste," he had said, making you laugh even harder.

"you're one to talk," you teased, still chuckling. "says the one who eats actual toothpaste."

jaemin feigned offense, his hand over his heart dramatically. "i'm offended. at least my ice cream is not sickly sweet like that strawberry monstrosity."

you smirked, glancing at his mint choco ice cream. "ah, but isn't mint choco just toothpaste with chocolate chips?"

he raised an eyebrow. "touché."

you remembered his smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he teased you. the way his arm would brush against yours as you walked side by side, lost in easy conversation. those moments felt so precious now, almost unreal.

"strawberry's still your favourite, right?" renjun asked, noticing the change in your expression when he handed you the ice cream cup.

you nodded with a smile, "yeah, always has been."

you dove into your strawberry ice cream, savoring the familiar taste. the two of you were like old times, laughing and joking as if nothing had changed since your college days.

he then offered you a taste of his own ice cream. "here, try this."

you accepted eagerly, taking a spoonful from his hand. "hmm, not bad. but nothing beats my strawberry."

renjun grinned mischievously. "of course not."

as you took another bite, a dollop of ice cream escaped and landed on the corner of your mouth. renjun laughed at your unwitting mess. "you've got a little something there," he teased, reaching over to wipe it away with a napkin.

you smiled gratefully. "thanks, junnie. can't take me anywhere, huh?"

little did you know, jaemin had been watching it all from afar, clutching a bag of your weed in his hands.

it's barely eight in the morning, and as usual, the cafe is already a full house.

surprisingly, you're in a good mood. you're not entirely sure why, but today feels different. the sun greeted you warmly as you woke up, casting a soft glow over your room. or, maybe it was because you woke up on the right side of the bed.

still, you took it as a sign that today would be a good day. everything seemed to good to be true.

and in walked the devil himself — haechan.

he cut to the front, completely ignoring the customers waiting in line.

"you know, a good friend would at least try to get a discount," he said, crossing his arms and giving you a pointed look. "i mean, what's the point of having connections if you don't use them?"

you rolled your eyes, refusing to give in. "hyuck, i'm not going to ask jaemin for a discount. drop it."

he leaned back, putting on an exaggerated pout. "you're the worst friend ever. i can't believe you're letting your ego get in the way of helping your friends. what if we run out? are you really going to let us suffer?"

you raised an eyebrow, unamused by his theatrics. "suffer? really, hyuck? you're being dramatic. we'll manage just fine without a discount. and besides, i'm not exactly on speaking terms with him right now."

haechan huffed, crossing his arms. "fine, but don't come crying to me when you realise you're not a good friend."

you shot him a glare, your voice firm. "i think we both know who the bad friend here is, donghyuck. now, if you're done complaining, i've got work to do."

everything went smoothly as you continued with your tasks, the busy cafe keeping your mind occupied. time flew by, and soon, the clock hit twelve in the afternoon.

"and you're still here?" you asked haechan, heading over to where he sat to have your lunch.

he just grumbled, eyes never leaving his laptop as he typed away. "finishing my assignment."

"what time is renjun coming?" haechan asked without looking up.

"his shift starts at twelve, so he'll be here any minute now," you replied, taking a bite of your sandwich.

just then, the bell above the door rang again. assuming it was renjun, you turned around, ready to greet him, only to stop in your tracks.

it was jaemin.

he stood there, looking around the cafe until his eyes locked onto yours.

you choked on your sandwich, eyes widening in shock. haechan immediately panicked, thrusting his water bottle at you. "oh my god, y/n! here, drink this!"

you grabbed the bottle, gulping down the water to clear your throat. "thanks," you muttered, still slightly embarrassed.

quickly regaining your composure, you hurried over to the cash register. you could feel jaemin's eyes on you as you took a deep breath and plastered on your best customer-service smile. "good afternoon! what would you like to order?" you asked, your voice as steady as you could make it.

jaemin stepped up to the counter, his expression unreadable. "i'm here to pick up my order," he said, his voice low and calm.

"of course," you replied, forcing your smile to stay in place. "what name is it under?"

"jaemin," he answered, watching you closely.

you turned to check the orders, your hands slightly trembling. "just a moment," you said, trying to keep your tone professional. you found his order quickly, a sense of relief washing over you as you grabbed the cup of coffee and pastry.

"here you go," you said, handing them to him with a practiced smile. "everything should be in order. if you have any issues, just let us know."

"thanks, y/n . . . " jaemin said, his voice soft and sincere. he hesitated, as if wanting to say something more, but you cut him off quickly.

"that'll be $7.50," you said, keeping your tone professional.

jaemin fished out his wallet, pulling out his card. as he handed it to you, your fingers accidentally brushed against his. he immediately started to stutter, "oh, sorry, i-"

"it's fine," you interrupted, pretending not to notice his flustered state. you quickly swiped his card, focusing on the transaction rather than the awkwardness hanging in the air. "here's your receipt," you said, handing it back to him with a steady hand.

jaemin took the receipt, his eyes searching yours for a moment. "thanks again," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

you gave a curt nod, maintaining your customer-service smile. "you're welcome. have a good day."

as jaemin turned to leave, he paused briefly before placing a small pack on the counter in front of you. without another word, he walked out of the cafe. you stared at the pack, momentarily frozen.

haechan, who had been watching the entire interaction from his seat, immediately sprang up and rushed over. he snatched the pack and peeked inside, his eyes widening with excitement. "no way!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down. "this is your stash!"

he held the pack to his nose, taking a deep sniff and grinning widely. "oh man, jaemin really came through, huh?" he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

you tried to maintain your composure, even though your heart was racing. "haechan, give it back," you said, your voice firm but betraying a hint of the turmoil you felt inside.

haechan handed the pack back to you, still grinning. "looks like someone still cares about you," he teased, his tone playful but with a hint of seriousness.

you rolled your eyes, trying to brush off the comment. "it's just business, hyuck. don't read too much into it."

haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "sure, whatever you say. but it looks like more than just business to me."

you tucked the pack away, determined to keep your emotions in check. "damn it hyuck, just finish your work already," you said, turning back to the counter. but inside, you couldn't ignore the flood of feelings jaemin's gesture had stirred up.

haechan raised both his hands in a gesture of surrender, slowly backing away. "okay, okay, i'm going," he said, a playful smirk on his face. as he retreated, he added casually, "there's a note in there, by the way."

your heart skipped a beat. a note? you glanced at the pack, curiosity and apprehension battling within you.

glancing around to ensure no one was watching, you quickly pulled out the note tucked inside. the familiar handwriting made your heart race.

'it's nice seeing u again, angel. call me, please?'

you stared at the note, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. haechan, noticing your silence, peeked over curiously. "what does it say?"

you hesitated before showing him the note. he read it quickly and raised an eyebrow. "looks like someone still has a thing for you."

you sighed, folding the note back up and tucking it away. "i don't know what to think, hyuck. this just complicates everything."

haechan shrugged. "maybe it's a sign. either way, you've got to figure out what you want."

you nodded, knowing he was right. as much as you wanted to ignore it, the note had opened a door you weren't sure you were ready to walk through.

haechan leaned in, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "look, y/n, sometimes people come back into your life for a reason. maybe it's not about the past or what happened before. maybe it's about what could happen now. you owe it to yourself to find out, don't you think?"

his words struck a chord, making you reconsider your stance. the fear and uncertainty were still there, but so was a glimmer of hope. maybe, just maybe, it was time to let down your guard and see where this path could lead.

as you stood there, lost in thought, you knew one thing for sure; you had a decision to make.

──

"i didn't expect you to call me so soon," jaemin said as you slipped into the passenger seat of his car. you didn't meet his eyes, focusing on buckling your seat belt quietly.

jaemin started the car, you couldn't help but find the situation oddly humorous in a bitter way. you had been adamant about erasing him from your life completely, yet here you were, willingly stepping into his car, reopening doors you had firmly shut. it felt like a contradiction, your heart pulling you one way while your mind fought against it.

"if haechan hadn't knocked some sense into me, i doubt i'd be here talking to you," you replied with a bitter edge to your voice.

you gave jaemin a sidelong glance as he drove off, his knowing smile lingering in your mind. despite your attempt to stay composed, a storm of conflicting emotions swirled within you.

why now? why after all this time? if he truly wanted to fix things, why didn't he do it years ago when it mattered most?

his sudden appearance caught you off guard. it felt as if the universe conspired to push you back together, testing your resolve to move on. could you trust him again? was reconciliation even possible after so much time had passed?

doubt crept in as you pondered whether this meeting was a mistake or an opportunity to finally confront the unresolved feelings that lingered between you.

"princess?" jaemin called out tentatively, breaking the silence as you stared out of the car window, lost in your thoughts.

"don't call me that," you snapped tersely, still unwilling to meet his gaze.

"please, i know you're still mad, maybe even disappointed. it's okay, i understand," jaemin said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "just listen to me, and then you can judge."

"why, jaemin? do you even know what you're going to talk about?" you asked, your voice edged with skepticism as he navigated the familiar streets.

jaemin sighed, keeping his eyes on the road. "i . . . i've thought about this a lot, y/n. i just want to explain everything."

you shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. "explain what, jaemin? why now?"

"i didn't realize it back then, but i made a mistake," jaemin replied, his voice earnest. "i want to make things right, if you'll let me."

"you left, jaemin," you said pointedly, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. “you left without a word. do you know what that did to me?”

jaemin's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "i know. i'm sorry. i was scared, confused. i thought i was doing the right thing."

"by disappearing?" you retorted bitterly, tears threatening to spill over. "you didn't even say goodbye."

"i know i hurt you," jaemin admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "but i never stopped thinking about you. i couldn't forget you, love."

your tears are now slipping freely, reflecting the pain and betrayal you had buried deep inside. "i trusted you," you chocked out, the emotions raw and overwhelming. "i felt like i didn't matter."

jaemin's eyes glistened with his own unshed tears as he glanced at you, his voice trembling with emotion. "you mattered more than anything. i was scared of how much i cared about you."

"scared?" you repeated, incredulous. "so you ran away?"

"i thought it would be easier," jaemin confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "but it wasn't. i've regretted it every day since."

"every time i wanted to approach you, something always got in the way. i didn't want to interrupt your day when you were with your friends because you looked so happy. it hurt me because i knew that should've been me making you smile like that. but i chickened out."

jaemin's voice grew more pained as he went on. "years went by, and i kept thinking that approaching you would be a mistake because you looked happier without me. i thought you'd moved on, that you were better off without me. i was scared i'd only bring you more pain. so, i stayed away, convincing myself it was for the best."

his confession hadn't fully registered in your mind yet. you felt a rush of emotions — anger, hurt, confusion — swirling inside you like a storm.

you wanted to yell at him, to scream out all the pain and frustration that had built up over the years. you wanted to tell him how unfair it was that he thought he had the right to reappear now, spilling his heart out as if it could undo the damage.

every fiber of your being ached to open the car door and walk away, to put distance between you and the source of so much pain.

but you couldn't move. your body felt like it was made of lead, too numb to respond to the commands of your mind. you sat there, hands trembling in your lap, staring straight ahead as his words echoed in your ears. the raw, emotional confession had you paralyzed, caught between the desire to flee and the need to finally confront the feelings you'd buried for so long.

the very eight letters you dreaded most left your mouth, almost unbidden, driven by the whirlwind of emotions consuming you. it was unexpected, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

"i hate you."

and that's enough for him to slam on the brakes. it's the last thing he ever wanted to hear from you, the words slicing through the fragile hope he held onto.

you hadn't meant to say it, but the anger and hurt had overwhelmed you, leaving you no room for restraint

"y/n, baby, please," jaemin pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "i never stopped thinking about you. y-you were more than just a friend, more than a smoke buddy or a hookup. you were someone i loved even when i didn't know how to say it."

you were left speechless. all these years, you had focused on his leaving, his mistakes, without realizing the depth of his feelings or your own. you hadn't considered your own faults or the impact of your actions. it was as if both of you had been trapped in the same cycle of misunderstanding, neither willing to confront the truth.

jaemin continued, his voice wavering with vulnerability, "i was scared, okay? scared of messing things up. i left because i thought it was the right thing to do, but every day away from you only made me realize how wrong i was."

"fuck, y/n, i couldn't get over you! every time i saw you, it reminded me of what i lost. of what i threw away. and it killed me inside, knowing that i let my fear get in the way of what we could've had."

you felt tears welling up, a mixture of pain, anger, and a strange sense of relief at finally hearing his side of the story. "jaemin," you managed to say, your voice cracking. "i didn't know that you . . ."

"i know," he interrupted softly. "i should have been clearer. i should have fought for us instead of running away. i was so mindful of you, so afraid of losing you that i ended up losing you anyway."

he took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly. "it felt like i took advantage of you, crossed lines that should never have been crossed. like i said, i was scared and confused, and i-i didn't know how to handle my feelings for you . . ."

your heart ached at his confession. "i never thought about it that way . . . i only saw your mistakes, not the reasons behind them. i was so focused on my own pain that i . . . didn't consider yours,"

"i blamed you for leaving," you admitted, "but i never looked at my own mistakes in all of this."

jaemin reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air before gently cupping your cheek. "i'm sorry, angel. i'm so sorry for hurting you."

you nodded, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "i'm sorry too," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

jaemin's eyes softened, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. the car was silent except for the sound of your sniffles mingling with his. minutes passed, or maybe it was just moments, before you broke the silence.

"it's very uncomfortable hugging in this position," you mumbled, noticing how the car's center console was digging into your side.

jaemin chuckled softly, pulling back slightly to glance at the console. "yeah, it is—"

just then, his phone rang, breaking the moment. you both pulled apart, and jaemin sighed. "that call can wait."

you shook your head, trying to regain some composure. "no, you should answer it. it might be important."

reluctantly, jaemin picked up the phone. "hello?" he paused, listening to the person on the other end. "yeah, i've got the stock. same place as usual? alright, see you then."

he hung up, turning back to you with a mixture of frustration and regret in his eyes. "i hate that my job keeps getting in the way."

you gave him a reassuring smile. “it's okay. work is important. we can continue our conversation another time.”

he nodded, then hesitated for a moment before offering, “do you want to come with me to deliver the goods? just like old times?”

a nostalgic feeling washed over you, and you found yourself nodding. "sure? why not?"

jaemin's expression softened with relief and a hint of a smile. "alrighty, let's go."

──

it felt almost surreal how quickly jaemin had slipped back into your life as if nothing had happened. the raw, painful emotions of your past seemed to blur in the light of your current reality.

in the days that followed, you and jaemin began calling each other regularly, catching up on the years you had missed.

you found yourself tagging along on jaemin's late night deliveries, riding shotgun through streets bathed in the quiet of the night.

each outing brought a renewed sense of joy, a lightness in your heart that had been missing for so long. you couldn't stop smiling, a testament to the healing that was finally taking root.

your friends couldn't help but notice the change in you. they teased good-naturedly about your newfound glow.

especially haechan. "you should thank me because i'm the one who brought you two back together," he had said the other night. and it was true — if it wasn't for haechan buying weed from jaemin, you don't know how long you would have lived such a miserable life with an empty heart and unanswered questions.

"do you think i made the right decision?" you asked haechan, doubt creeping into your voice.

he flicked your forehead lightly, making you wince. "of course you did, idiot. you were both hurting, and now you have a chance to heal together. don't overthink it."

haechan's words hit you right, resonating with a truth you had been reluctant to admit. his blunt honesty was exactly what you needed.

you cherished this unexpected turn with jaemin. despite the conversations left hanging between you, you were determined to savor the present. there was a sense of peace knowing time was on your side, allowing both of you the chance to rebuild what once seemed lost.

and tonight is no different. it's become a routine for jaemin to pick you up at midnight.

"just two more stops and we're done for the night," jaemin said, his eyes focused on the road while his free hand rested comfortably on your lap. "stay awake for me, yeah, princess?"

you mumbled a drowsy "yeah" in response, but the exhaustion was too much. everything went black as you dozed off.

──

"princess, we're here," he said gently, shaking you awake.

you had already arrived at your apartment complex. "why didn't y—" flash.

confused, you looked over at jaemin from the passenger seat and saw a camera right in front of you. he was smiling behind the camera, one eye closed.

"still as beautiful as ever," he cooed. "my princess is beautiful even with a little drool."

you chuckled sheepishly, feeling slightly embarrassed as you wiped your mouth aggressively with the back of your hand. "shut up," you playfully retorted, though a faint blush colored your cheeks.

jaemin stepped out of his car and swiftly made his way around to your side. with a gentle smile, he opened your door and leaned in, carefully unbuckling your seat belt.

jaemin's hand was warm as he guided you out of the car, his touch gentle against your skin. "i'll make my way home now. will you be okay getting to your room by yourself?" he asked softly.

you hesitated, then shook your head, gripping his hand. "stay for the night. it's late," you said, surprising even yourself with the invitation.

he looked at you, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable in his eyes. "are you sure?" he asked, his voice low.

you nodded, feeling oddly brave despite the drowsiness lingering from your nap. "yeah. i could use the company," you admitted, leading him towards your apartment complex.

it had been a while since jaemin last visited your apartment, yet not much had changed. there were a few new additions here and there, but the cozy atmosphere he remembered still lingered in the air.

"uh, this is gonna sound weird, but i still have your shirt from when you left it," you continued, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. "i'll get it for you."

"i'll be waiting, angel." jaemin looked around the room, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took in the familiar surroundings.

the soft lighting, the scatter of books on the table, and the scent of vanilla scented candles wafting in the air all contributed to the warm and homey atmosphere. he nodded appreciatively, clearly enjoying the nostalgic ambiance.

you returned and handed him his shirt, then hesitantly asked, "i still have some weed left. want to smoke for old times' sake?" you mentally cursed yourself for the awkwardness.

"who am i to say no to my baby?" there it was again. your stomach did a flip, feelings swirling that you couldn't quite explain.

jaemin took out the rolling papers with a practiced ease, his fingers deftly handling the task. each movement was deliberate and precise, folding the paper expertly around the ground weed.

the soft glow of the tv illuminated his focused expression as he crafted the joint, the familiar scent of cannabis mingling in the air around you. the atmosphere was relaxed, punctuated only by the occasional sound from the movie playing in the background.

he lit the joint, took the first hit, and then handed it to you. after a prolonged silence, jaemin spoke up, his voice breaking the quietude.

"sunset sherbet is back in business because of you. have i told you that?" asked jaemin.

you shook your head no, and jaemin continued, "i stopped supplying it because you weren't buying anymore. but recently, i thought maybe . . . maybe you'd come back, so i started supplying it again."

you listened intently, or at least tried to, as the weed slowly took effect.

"then i met haechan through my regulars. we were at my place. i was looking for a reliable client, and haechan was looking for a reliable plug, so it was a win-win. he told me he wanted to try out a new flavor, and lucky enough, sunset sherbet was in stock."

then it clicked for you. "that's when haechan brought it home . . ." you slowly said.

"and coincidentally, he was your friend. well, i didn't know you were friends with him until the night he came to pick up," he laughed.

you laughed along with him, reminiscing about that night when you first encountered jaemin, all thanks to haechan.

then, it was quiet again.

"y/n?"

"hm?"

"can i kiss you now, or is it too soon?"

you wondered how those words could slip out so easily. you didn't pay much attention to it at first; it could be because you're both high. either jaemin was just saying something nonsensical, or you heard it wrong.

but deep down, you knew you'd only be lying to yourself if you said you didn't want it.

“what are you thinking about?” asked the man in front of you.

you took a moment to really look at him, realizing how much he had changed. his features were more defined, his jawline sharper. he had clearly gained muscle, his arms and chest filling out his shirt in a way that hadn't been there before. his hair was slightly longer, tousled just right.

your eyes then traveled down to his fingers — the same fingers that had plunged into you years back. you remembered how pleasurable it felt, how just his fingers alone could make you come twice — or more than you could count if he was feeling less merciful.

but what caught your attention the most were his lips. they looked plump and glossy, probably from the lips moisturizer he always used.

and then there were his thighs. oh dear goodness. he had this habit of shaking his leg up and down while making conversation, and right now, he was doing it, and it was giving you no justice. curse the weed for making you horny now. the way he was sitting, one leg bouncing up and down, arms crossed while waiting for you to answer him, had you pent up.

"are you gonna leave me again?" you asked him. jaemin, who had a serious look on his face, was now plastered with a shocked expression. "where did that come from?" he replied.

you could feel the lump in your throat growing as tears welled up in your eyes. "because i'm scared, jaemin. every time i think about getting close to you again, i remember the pain of you leaving."

jaemin reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "i never meant to hurt you. i was scared too. but i promise, i'm not going anywhere this time."

you searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity but found none. "i want to believe you," you whispered, "but it's hard."

"i love you."

you stared at him in disbelief. "what?"

"there, i said it. does that prove enough for you to believe me?" he looked at you earnestly, his eyes filled with hope and vulnerability.

"you can't just say that out of nowhere, jaemin. it won't fix things," you said in frustration.

"damn it, y/n, are you blind?" jaemin's voice rose, frustration evident in his tone. "i've liked you for so long, no, i've loved you. i've always loved you. how can you not see that?" his eyes were pleading, filled with a mix of anger and desperation.

"you're not thinking straight, you're high," you insisted firmly. "we'll talk about this when we're sober."

"no," jaemin interrupted, his voice unwavering. "i know what i said, and i'm hearing myself very clearly. that's that."

the intensity of his words left you feeling a mix of emotions, but you fought to keep your composure and not reveal any hint of interest. "what even are we, jaemin?" you asked, trying to grasp the situation amid the emotional turmoil.

even in your high state, you noticed the look on his face — his eyes were red, on the verge of tears yet he managed to hold them back. he straightened himself, facing you squarely.

"i haven't been clear with you, and i know that you know i've been avoiding this question from you. but now, i need to face it. please, just listen."

you nod.

"from the moment you walked into my apartment that first time, i knew there was something special about you. i remember how nervous i was, trying to act cool while you asked about different strains. but honestly, i couldn't stop thinking about you after you left. i didn't just want you to be a client; i wanted you to know me, the real me."

"as time went on, every encounter with you just made me crave more. your laughter, your smile — it's like nothing else mattered when i was with you. and those late night talks we had, sometimes about nothing and everything at the same time, they meant everything to me."

"i guess i never had the courage to tell you then, but it's been eating at me all these years. i love you, y/n. i've loved you for so long, and i can't keep pretending that you don't mean everything to me."

"heck, i didn't just want to be friends. it's just that every time we met and had sex, it seemed like you were okay with how things were. i didn't want to ruin that by bringing it up."

after jaemin's heartfelt confession, a heavy silence filled the room. you were quiet, absorbing everything he had just said.

jaemin, on the other hand, felt his heart pounding in his chest. the silence stretched, each second feeling like eternity. he mentally prepared himself for the worst, fearing rejection. his mind raced with thoughts, wondering if he had made a mistake by being so open, by laying his feelings bare.

just as he opened his mouth to speak, you cut him off by leaning in and pressing your lips against his.

the kiss started off slow, hesitant and tender, as if both of you are testing the waters. but as the seconds ticked by, the intensity grew. jaemin's hands found their way to your waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, straddling him.

his tongue brushed against your lips, begging for entrance, deepening the kiss with a hunger that had been building for years.

you parted your lips, giving jaemin full access to explore. a loud moan escaped you, and jaemin felt immense gratitude knowing your sounds were just for him.

jaemin slid his hands under your shirt, lifting it to expose your bra. his warm hand pressed against your stomach, slowly moving up until they reached your breasts, and squeeze it. another moan escaped you, and jaemin broke the kiss.

you stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "jaemin?"

he hesitated, his heart pounding. jaemin's arms shook, and his legs felt hot. was he nervous?

"we're just high," he said, "high as fuck."

you rolled your eyes and smirked. "shut up and fuck me already, i'm horny."

those words were all he needed. a switch flipped inside him, and he pulled you closer, hands eagerly exploring your body as he captured your lips once again.

it wasn't long before you felt his hardness pressing against you. taking it as an invitation, you shifted your throbbing core directly onto it, making both of you hiss in pleasure.

"oh fuck, baby, you sure about this?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"as long as you don't leave after this, i'm positive. i want you, nana. i need you, fuck–" you replied, grinding against him.

jaemin groaned, his hands gripping your hips. "i'm not going anywhere. i'm all yours, baby."

you continued to grind against him, letting out moans of pleasure. after a while, jaemin halted your movements, holding you in place while he pressed his hardness against yours, trying to control himself.

"i don't want to cum just yet, princess," he murmured, his voice strained with desire. "fuck, that feels so good."

jaemin tugged at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off. seconds later, you both were naked, consumed by impatience. the clothes were discarded somewhere in the room, forgotten in the heat of the moment, though you knew you'd have to find them later.

without a warning, you slowly sank onto his lap. jaemin’s face contorted beautifully as you sunk into his length.

"oh shi– holy fuck, y/n," he moaned. "you fit perfectly." you shifted slightly, then grasped his shoulders, lifting yourself off his lap before sinking back down.

jaemin’s eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your hips as you bounced on him.

"you feel amazing, baby," he murmured. "you're perfect. missed this pussy.”

"ngh– fuck, fuck," you gasped through gritted teeth as you kept moving on top of him. the tension in your stomach tightened. "i’m getting close, fuck."

"cum for me, angel. i wanna feel you tighten around me. you’re doing so fucking good."

"shit," you moaned, tightening around him as your orgasm hit. you continued to ride him even as jaemin came inside you. after a few more movements, you eased yourself off him. the room looked fuzzy and tinted pink.

"must be the weed," you mused aloud.

“no shit,” jaemin chuckled, catching his breath. “think you can take another one?”

you grinned, feeling the haze of pleasure and the effects of the weed. “oh, i can definitely take more.”

"then be a good girl and lay down," jaemin said, his voice low and teasing.

you complied with a satisfied sigh, lying back and letting jaemin take control.

he's got you folded in half, his hands pushing your thighs towards your torso, positioning his cock at your entrance. even before he starts, you're already dripping wet.

"please, fuck me already," you plead.

he thrusts inside and immediately sets a quick pace, pounding you deeply. your fingers clutch the cushions as moans escape your lips, one after another. he groans as your pussy tightens around him.

"already want me to fill you up? want my cum to spill out of you?" he asks eagerly. "oh my fucki–, just breed me already," you whimper, reaching down to rub your clit urgently. bringing yourself to climax will only bring him closer to his own, and you desperately want his release.

you speed up the rubbing of your clit as he continues thrusting forcefully. his hand moves from your thigh to lightly press against your throat, adding to your pleasure without stifling your voice. you cry out as your second orgasm crashes over you, squirting over both of you.

the sound of your squelching seems to excite him even more. jaemin pounds into you harder than ever, driven by his primal urge to satisfy you completely.

"come inside me, nana, please, please," you gasp, prompting a moan from him.

"is that what you want? to fill you up? to make you carry my baby?" he asks, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat, leaving you breathless.

his thrusts become more erratic, a clear sign he's close to climaxing. with a few final deep thrusts, he groans and releases deep inside you. you tighten around him, milking every drop.

you thought he was done, but he surprises you by pulling out and flipping you over. pressing your chest into the couch, he lifts your hips and plunges back into your wetness.

he smacks your ass and thrusts rapidly, the wet sounds of skin on skin driving both of you toward another intense release.

you came on his cock for the third time, muffling your scream into the cushion. his hands grip your hips firmly as he thrusts into you, driven to impregnate you.

his hips falter as he reaches his climax, his cock buried deep inside you. he remains there, filling you with his cum.

afterward, he pulls himself out and replacing it with two of his fingers, pressing them into your core to ensure all of his cum stays inside.

“you know, babe,” jaemin says with a mischievous grin, “i'm serious about having a mini-me running around the house.”

you chuckle and arch an eyebrow. “really, jaem? you're bold enough to say that while your fingers are still inside me?"

jaeemin bursts out laughing, pulling his fingers out and giving you a playful smack on the thigh. “okay, okay, fair point," he admits, still grinning. “but seriously, please think about it.”

you roll your eyes playfully. "you’re crazy. fine, we’ll discuss it . . . after you clean up this mess."

jaemin laughs again, leaning in to kiss you. "i’ll hold onto that."

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! though i still lack in writing, your comments and feedback help me improve and continue my writing. here’s to more writings in the future! 🥂

── a.

#nct dream smut #jaemin smut #jaemin #nct jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream #nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #nct x reader #nct dream fluff #nct hard hours

182 notes · View notes