#but at the same time i do not want a '''''normal''''' job where i'm working at an office from 9-5
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i know its normal to like. tell your parents that you're moving and got a new job but why do i feel like i have to ask permission to fucking. apply for jobs outside of michigan
#shay speaks#sry i am. thinking about how i felt like i was asking permission to accept the job in colorado that i took#in my hashtag rebellious era by just taking seasonal work wherever#and doing my own thing. im hoping with some distance between my parents and me i'll actually be able to find something#of myself. just like. my own person.#i dont want to be an extension of my parents!!!! i dont want to do what they want for me!!!#but i feel like whenever i want to do something big i have to ask permission#which is why i havent told them about any of my adventures this summer#where i went to various lighthouses and such. fr some reason i just. feel like i have to ask them for permission to do anything#even though i am 23.#saying that as if they didnt force me to go to church while i was living at home with them last winter#but at the same time i do not want a '''''normal''''' job where i'm working at an office from 9-5#i dont think i'd like that very much. as much as i love the people from the museum i interned at#i realized i did not want to do office work or paperwork or anything like that#i like interacting with people and the fast paced kitchen environments#sighs. i probably need therapy but will not be getting it any time soon
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it's probably the sunnier weather that's doing stuff to my brain to make me more optimistic but it's so interesting having a brain that craves a lot of self-fulfillment to the point where I can move past some hang-ups around perfection by going "oh I really wanna do that though" and then I do it well because researching how to do it right is also a rewarding part of the process
#it comes with the double edged sword of dropping projects as soon as they become a bit more involved/difficult#or when they don't feel fulfilling#but maybe it's better to take a break and come back to something with new knowledge ?#maybe it's good that my brain has a built in 'if it sucks hit da bricks' function ?#i just wish that i had more stamina for these things when they start lacking intrinsic rewards#it just feels like compared to my other family members i lose steam very very quickly and since we all have the same disorder i should be-#- 'just as capable'... but honest to god my under-activity feels SO severe#it honestly feels like compared to others my threshold for mental exhaustion is half the normal benchmark it should be#you know how there were studies done that found that 4 hours is the maximum amount of time people can work before a decline in efficiency?#i swear to god when the activity is something i have no internal reward for it takes 1-2 hours for that decline to start. and my brain -#- crashes HARD. my eyes start to glaze over. i start forgetting how to speak. my brain starts acting like it's 2-3 am and that i need to -#- sleep. i don't push myself not because i coddle myself but because i perform WAY worse. my work becomes unintelligible#or if it's some other kind of task (such as cleaning) my brain desperately tries to take shortcuts in order to get it done#i am trying to avoid a situation where i have to fix up the shitty job i did after the fact!#it's just kind of crazy to me how this is viewed as laziness LOL 'you did a bad job!' because i was pushed past my limit!#not to mention... i get burned out for DAYS if i push myself too hard. i am trying to conserve my efficiency#if you want me to do a better job... i need more time. and trust me: i'll do an excellent job if you let me rest#i am a very smart and capable person who cares about doing a good job - and i have a fine eye for smaller details as well#the trade-off here is i'll need some time to find joy and fulfillment somewhere else for a little bit while i rest. let me excel ok?#idk where this high self esteem came from other than like. realizing i wrote an entire research proposal in such short time#while receiving positive feedback with very few notes for improvement. i just sat down an added another section today based on -#-feedback and realized like 'wait. i know what i'm doing and i probably care about this far more than the average classmate'#i've been having a lot of thoughts lately and i sort of want to get to the bottom of how i have a difficult time coping w/ burnout#and i also want to figure out how to offset the costs of the stuff i need to do... it's a process
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still sick but alive, unfortunately 🤧
#last morning when i got up i wasn't at all sure i'd live to see the release of deadzone lol#since then i've been able to walk and stand up somewhat normally without wanting to cry and/or die#last night i slept more than the two previous nights combined. which still isn't that much but at least i did sleep#i did also wake up so completely drenched in my own sweat (from mild fever going down after i had taken a painkiller for a headache)-#-that i had to get up and dry myself with a towel 😂#and there was a huge wet spot (of sweat) on my bed where i had lied 🙂#i have lost three fourths of my vocal range so i can't e.g. laugh#(not that i've had a whole lot to giggle about these past few days 💀)#i'm bummed out i can't do preparations for my new job#i definitely should've started earlier but i would've had plenty of time this week had i not caught the cold at the stupid festival 🤧#i did not plan this! besides i'm not gonna start working weeks ahead for a job i'm not even getting paid for yet#for the same reason no one can expect me to work while sick for a job i haven't gotten a single penny from#hell even if i WAS paid no one could expecte me to work while sick#so i shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to work on my fic instead of the course plans#which btw i already sort of have because my predecessors gave me practically ALL the material i might need#so all i reallly need to do is change the dates of the course plans and bob's your uncle#but i'd like to also study the material a bit before teaching it so that i'll at least seem like i know what i'm talking about 💀#mom said on the phone that i've managed situations like this before so i will manage this too and she's right i guess but 😭😭😭#but yeah i guess this is some sort of developement from last year when i had the 'rona-#-and felt awful about ordering food/groceries in because ''i don't want to be a bother'' 😂
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I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:
10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them
Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜
hunger
a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!
summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.
word count: 1.7k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.
Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.
He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.
Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.
"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.
He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.
For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.
"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"
Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.
Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.
He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.
So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.
Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.
His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.
"I don't know what we're doing."
"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."
A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.
"There we go," he murmured.
Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."
"B-but you said-"
"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."
"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.
He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.
He'd follow your lead.
But that remained something he never excelled at.
"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"
The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.
This was a show and he remained the only audience member.
"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."
With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.
Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.
Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.
"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.
You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."
"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"
Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."
That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.
The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.
You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."
"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.
"P-Pretty," you slurred.
"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.
The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.
"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."
Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"
A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."
"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"
He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."
The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.
The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.
"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."
You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"
Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.
"It's yours."
You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."
#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#my writing
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Freak of Nature - The Salesman x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: The Salesman can't get enough of you, he's drawn to you like a bee to honey. It's just a shame you don't know he's watching you.
A/N: I'm not 100% sure where I want this to go yet, and i've never written for a character like The Salesman before but Gong Yoo's unhinged performance has me hooked!
Warnings: 18+ only!, stalking, The Salesman needs his own warning
He’d always known he was fucked up; had always known he wasn’t “normal”. From a young age, his parents had thrown every penny available at psychologist after psychologist, desperate to find a cure for their little freak of nature. Nothing had worked though; nothing had been able to quell that constant desire deep within his soul.
He’d spent years being forced to subdue whatever demons he housed, fooling his parents into thinking the therapy was working. Nothing could save him though; nothing could rid him of the evil that had taken root. He enjoyed playing with people, relished in seeing how far he could take a person before they completely snapped. Human life was so fragile and fickle; why shouldn’t he be allowed to play with it? People so often wasted their lives; took what little time they had for granted. If anything, he was helping people. He was giving them a chance at a second opportunity for life. The games he played with people, the innocent, childhood games were all completely legal. He never made anyone do anything they didn’t want to, that was beauty of his job. Everyone always had a choice, he just made it hard for them to say no. People were greedy, hungry for fame and fortune. He gave those who sought riches beyond their wildest dreams a chance to make that dream a reality; it wasn’t his fault if they didn’t win the game.
This life he led was a lonely one though. Relationships had never been his forte. He’d always been too much for women, too intense. He had needs, desires that few could meet and those who could only stayed a short time. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of love. He knew he’d never loved his parents, had never loved any of the women he’d fucked. They were merely an object which he used to meet his own needs, all of them too vain and fickle for him. He enjoyed a challenge, wanted someone who could keep him on his toes. But how would he find someone like that when even he didn’t know how far he was wiling to go? How high did his freak flag fly? No one had ever stayed long enough for him to find out. He usually paid for the company of a woman, handing them wads of cash so he could feel a brief moment of ecstasy. He’d never felt anything for these women though; had never felt the burning desire that he felt when he was around you.
He'd watched you every day for three months now, sipping your latte in the same coffee bar, your laptop open as you marked your students work. You always sat in the same spot, right by the window with the view of the park opposite. He’d taken to sitting on a bench in that park, right opposite where you sat. He’d watched as your brow furrowed while you marked essays, he’d smile at the way your perfect pink tongue delicately flicked the frothy coffee foam from your top lip. You were perfect to him, so innocent and excruciatingly delicate. He’d followed you home a few times, keeping enough of a distance that you didn’t notice him in the crowds, but close enough that the floral scent of your perfume wrapped tightly around his senses like a hangman’s noose.
He knew you lived in a small studio apartment, number 235. Your bedroom looked out over a small restaurant, and he’d sit there some nights, watching the shadows of your form through your curtains. He’d never been this enamoured with a person before, never craved a person as much as he did you. He’d listened to you order your coffee a dozen times, your voice more beautiful than any songbird. He wanted to speak to you, but he didn’t want to shatter the perfect vision he’d created for himself. In his head, he broke you over and over again, but you enjoyed it. In his head, you were his, bending to his every will and demand. In his head, you were his perfect girl. But fantasy was always better than reality, and reality never lasted long. He wasn’t quite ready to show himself to you, choosing to lurk in the shadows as you remained blissfully unaware of him.
It was getting harder and harder to stay away from you though. Every day your very presence only fuelled his desires. One day soon he’d have to show himself to you. He just hoped you lived up to his expectations.
#squid game#squid game 2#squid game season 2#the salesman#the salesman x reader#squid game x reader#gong yoo
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first and last
pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare
word count: 8.8k
a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!
i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅
The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away.
The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk.
It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.
There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in.
In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on.
All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.
In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away.
There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway.
You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure.
But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit.
By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove.
You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders.
Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice.
Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with.
When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.
On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become.
Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.
Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home.
But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.
Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.
The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.
Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.
Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized.
Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.
It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.
But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last.
Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.
“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all.
“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.
You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life.
The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down.
Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore.
You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears.
“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.
It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.
You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.
“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”
“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.
The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.
Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.
“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee.
A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat.
“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else.
You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.
Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.
Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger.
You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.
Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes.
You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.
With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans.
As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone.
“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing.
You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine.
“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.
Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore.
Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time.
So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it.
“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions.
You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.
But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder.
For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun.
“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.
It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes.
Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.
Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.
Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.
Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.
Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.
The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line.
For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say?
But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye.
Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well.
With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs.
But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup.
It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.
Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.
“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove.
His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.
Huh, you really were staring at Steve.
Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk.
It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists.
You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor.
It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions.
Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.
“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.
“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.”
Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life.
He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you.
Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.
“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.”
You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.
“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”
You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life.
“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town.
Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet.
Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.
“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark.
“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest.
There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited.
It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”
Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.
When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?”
You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.
“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.”
Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.
“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”
“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.”
Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.
“You deserved better.”
The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.
“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.”
When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window.
The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.
“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”
Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…
“I think about you, too, buttercup.”
The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it.
You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans.
He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his.
“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”
Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.
“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.”
Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.
“You’re drunk, buttercup.”
Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.
“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper.
A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument.
“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.
A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You’d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together.
When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.
Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.
“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.
Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together.
“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”
Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.
Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected. Your lips were still parted, your panting breaths gusting out of them, your heart racing, and you were finally calm and quiet.
Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer.
“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch.”
Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat.
Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.
“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”
“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.
Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.
“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”
Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans.
It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.
But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning.
A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone.
You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you.
But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname.
“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself.
Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.
The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve’s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.
“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths.
But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.
“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.
“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.”
“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap.
“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.”
The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near.
“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.”
Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face.
You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.
“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand.
“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself.
“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.”
The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.
“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.
“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.
Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine.
He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”
Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Can I take you home now?” he asked.
You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.
Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body.
“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.
When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door.
Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.
Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus.
“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.”
For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession.
“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself.
You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fic#friends to lovers#steve rogers au#childhood best friend steve rogers#childhood best friend#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#chris evans characters#witchywithwhiskeywork
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AITAH for telling my wife no?
My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.
Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.
Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.
A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.
Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.
I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.
When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.
She told my parents the promotion included relocation.
I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.
What are these acronyms?
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kinktober day 15 [car sex]
|masterlist|
warning:smut, p in v, unprotected sex, riding
wc:1,1k
You watched Joshua as he finished his performance and came backstage. When the other members came in, you congratulated them all one by one, but your mind was still on your boyfriend. Normally, you had the chance to see his stage so closely many times, but today was different, more than usual...hot? His mood change during the performance, his serious facial expression, the way he licked his lips...It made you shiver.
As soon as Joshua noticed you backstage, a smile appeared on his face, he approached you and pulled you by the waist and hugged you tightly. "Was I good?" he whispered in your ear, you smiled, when you pulled back, you whispered the same against his lips "You were better than good...God, I had a hard time not jumping on the stage." he let out a chuckle, approached you and kissed you on the lips "I'm glad you liked it, my love." he held your waist tightly and squeezed it lightly and soon left the room to change.
Now you were in the car to go back home, he hadn’t missed the fact that you occasionally glanced at him and examined his side profile, he held himself back from laughing “I can’t focus on the road if you look at me like that, babe.” You turned to the front with embarrassment, you had unknowingly examined him too much but you couldn’t help it. The images of the scene that had come to your mind were constantly replaying. Joshua glanced at you briefly and then turned back to the road “What are you thinking? Tell me." He stopped at a red light, turned his full attention to you, he realized that you were avoiding answering, put his hand on your leg, you swallowed when his thumb started to caress your skin “Yeah?” Knowing that there was nowhere to run, you just gave in “I was just…I was thinking about how good you looked on stage. I mean, I already know you looked good but- today..You were so hot.” Joshua threw his head back and laughed. He didn’t know he had this effect on you but he honestly liked knowing it, he leaned in close and placed a small kiss on your neck “I like knowing you see me like this.” His deep voice made you shiver, he pulled back as if nothing had happened and continued on his way with the green light on. A slight smile appeared on Joshua’s face as he continued on his way, turning the car into a deserted alleyway, you frowned upon noticing this. “Are we taking a different route?” Joshua pulled over without answering and turned off the lights. Only the moonlight illuminated the interior of the car in the backstreet where not even the streetlights worked properly. He turned to you, gently placed his hand on your cheek, his other hand went back to your leg and squeezed it lightly. “If you look this affected after every performance..” he whispered, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips, he let out a breath, leaning in closer but not kissing you yet, just letting your lips brush against each other. “...We should have some fun off stage to celebrate this, right? Don’t you think your boyfriend is doing a good job? I think you should reward him.” Even before his lips had made contact with yours, he was driving you crazy, his thumb caressed your cheek, the slight smile on his face didn’t leave. “What kind of reward?” he hummed, pretending to think for a moment, then pulled back and unlocked the car door. “Get in the backseat.”
That was all he said and soon you found yourself in his lap in the backseat. Joshua leaned his head back and watched you while you continued to rub yourself against him. You moaned as his swollen cock made contact with your pussy, he tightened his grip on your waist "Shua.. Please, I want you.." you spoke needily, Joshua leaned closer and started to kiss your neck "I know darling, don't worry I'll make you feel good." You felt his cock inside you in no time, a loud moan filled the car. Your hips slowly moved down, trying to take it all in "Too m-much.." He grabbed your hips and made you sit on top of him, kissed your lips to quiet your voice, his tongue roaming around in your mouth as he waited for you to get used to it. He pulled back with a loud kiss "Are you okay?" he whispered against your lips, you nodded "Good. Now I need you to move those beautiful hips of yours darling."
You did as he said, your hips started to move on his hard cock, Joshua threw his head back in pleasure, his mouth taking in slightly spaced breaths, your pussy clenching around him and he loved the feeling so much, "You're so good baby- oh fuck you're gonna make me come early." You held onto his shoulders tightly, his hand not hesitating to roam all over your body. He looked at you, brushed your hair behind your ear and exposed your face, even though he couldn't see much in the dark, he knew exactly how good you looked riding him and that was a sight for him to see. His hand slowly moved from your neck to your breast, squeezing it gently, lingering on your nipples for a while. He pulled you by the waist and made you come closer to him. You felt his tongue on your nipple, he ran the tip of his tongue around it, sucking on your breast while his other hand worked on your other breast. He lightly bit your erect nipple, smiling when he heard your tiny whimper.
Your hip movements started to speed up after a while, Joshua's occasional whimpers and the sounds of your bodies merging drove you even wilder. You let out a whimpering sound as his cock hits your pleasure point, his hands returning to your hips and supporting you. He helped you move on him easily. The pleasure grew inside you, Joshua knew he was close too, your pussy clenching around him making him moan deeply. He smiled to himself and threw his head back again. “Ah- you always feel so good- and tight..I- fuck, I’m so close.” He swallowed hard, watching his twitching Adam’s apple, making you wet your lips. You couldn’t hold back any longer as each stroke brought new pleasure, you came in no time, your juices flowing down his cock, you pulled back and soon Joshua’s juices were flowing down his belly. He looked at you tiredly and let you rest on his chest before moving on. He kissed the top of your head. “I think you should reward me like this after every concert.”
#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen hard thoughts#seventeen hard hours#svt hard thoughts#svt hard hours#joshua imagines#joshua smut#joshua hong#joshua hong smut#joshua hong imagines#svt scenarios#joshua scenarios#joshua x reader#seventeen joshua
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Heyyyyyyy could YOU please PLEASE do one where Billie tells the reader how to touch herself, while Billie is on tour?!!?
Call Me
Billie Eilish x female reader !
A/n: coming righttttt up, hope you like it 😊
Warnings: smut, phone sex ?? Masterbating - think thats it !
Masterlist
It was lonely here all alone. Finding little jobs and activities to do to fill in time. Whenever you weren't working, yourself. Your girlfriend, Billie was currently on her HMHAS tour. And you haven't seen her in days. Truth be told you missed her like crazy. Her presence. Her voice. Her touch..
Which led to the next feeling you missed. Ovulation was no joke. And you were currently facing the feral-ness of it. Even more so that she isn't here. You had been frustrated all day. And you only now realize why. You needed to touch yourself, you had to relieve this pent up tension. So as the night comes along you get into your warm, comfortable bed. Checking the time. Billie usually calls around this time.
You figure shes sleeping, she had been extra tired lately. You go to slide your hand down into your shorts, about to touch yourself. When you do, but stopping. Things aren't the same. You wanted her touch. You try to continue but nothing was feeling good right now. That caused more frustration to bubble inside you. Deciding to just sleep it away. And hope tomorrow was normal.
Next day rolls around and you still have the same feeling. Frustration and horniness. Not a great combination, the day felt longer because of it. It was a bit earlier when you got home, but thankfully Billie didn't have a show today. So she was hopefully going to answer when you call. You couldn't take it anymore you needed her help. And you needed it desperately.
You go to lay on the bed, grabbing your phone and dialing her number. She answers in seconds, causing you to grow nervous. In all the years of being with her, phone sex was the one thing you've yet to do. So ofcourse you were nervous. Would she even help you, would this be odd? "Hi baby." You hear her say, cheerfully. You smile to yourself. "Hello!" You try your hardest to not jump into things, going to try give her some hints.
"How was your day?" She then asks. You sigh, ever so lightly. "A little frustrating, good to be home though. How about yours?" - "Mine was pretty boring I've just been preparing for tomorrow's show and chilling. Why was yours frustrating my love?" You think for a moment. "Just some work and other little things, some of which I just can't fix by myself.." - "I'm sorry, anything I can do to help at all?" Yes. Phone fuck me. Was all you wanted to say but you had to play things cool. Even if your body was heating up at the thought of this happening.
"Not that I can think of, just wanted to hear your voice I missed you." She smiles to herself. "I miss you too babe." There was a small pause, you were contemplating on how you'd do this. When a small idea pops into your head. You missed her voice so much, and it sounds like you had just woke her up from a nap. Her voice was slightly raspy, a bit of her tiredness peeking through.
"Did anything else happen today?" You then ask, getting comfortable on the bed. Moving your hands just above the waistband of your underwear. You had decided to get straight into your sleepwear, just a loose night gown. Wanting to feel good as all you've been wearing lately are big t-shirts to bed. You wanted to feel hot, make this moment more sensual. "Not too much if im honest, just got my outfit for tomorrow, did some other things. Just boring stuff really." You hum in reply, moving your hand in your underwear as she speaks.
Was this wrong? It felt a little like that. Your face heats up what're you even doing. But you get pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name. "Hello? Y/n, baby. You still there?" The name made you bite your lip. "Y-yeah sorry." She chuckles. "You didn't answer my question love." "Oh, oops. What was it?" She smiles to herself again, finding you cute. Except what you were doing was far from cute and downright filthy. "I asked you how shark had been, he's behaving right?" Your hand moves lower, trying to stay focused on the conversation and her voice. "Y-yeah he's been good." You let out a quiet sigh but she hears it. "Everything ok?"
You get nervous again, how were you even going to manage this. "I'm fine.." You needed her to keep talking, and thankfully she does. "Ok, Im sure if it's anything youre just tired. I was going to talk to you about when I get back, we have a dinner with Finn on the Friday. Just thought I'd remind you incase you forgot." Your finger had been in you, slowly moving the whole time she was talking. And when you don't reply she gets more confused. "Baby, what're you doing you seem distracted." You holt your movements, trying to think of an excuse but why? You wanted to call her and ask.
Ask her to talk to you, help you. So why were you so damn nervous. "Talk to me baby." God sake her voice was so hot even when she wasn't intentionally trying. You bite your lip again trying to stop any noise that was about to escape. Mustering up some sort of strength to reply. "I'm f-fine." Was all you managed to respond with. Billie sits there in thought, when she hears another sigh. Was she catching on? She needed to be sure. "I miss you, so. So much." She was playing with fire. You don't respond again, having your eyes shut as you try to give yourself pleasure.
When it's not working you let out another sigh followed by a tiny whine. She hears that loud and clear, smirking to herself. She knew good and well what you were doing. "Can't wait to see you in a few days, get to kiss you. Hold you. Touch.. you." She chose her words evily. But she didn't stop there. A breath was to be heard. Followed by a frustrated sigh. "Let me help, baby. You sound annoyed." Another small whine left you, at the fact she was right and just overall the way she was speaking to you.
Your brows knit together, giving in and letting her. She knows now, there's no point in staying silent. "It's no good, I miss you. Your hands." She coos. "I know baby, I know. I'm just so good at touching my girl huh?" Your head rests back. "So good." You breath into the speaker. "Your fingers still inside?" You reply with a hum. "Move em." So you do just that, slowly at first. "Move your thumb, touch your clit for me." You do that, touching it then moving your thumb in a circle motion.
Everything was so still and quiet she could hear your wetness and God it was driving her nuts, she wanted to be there. To see it, to feel it. "That's it." She says encouragingly, hearing your noises as you speed up on both tactics. She could just imagine it, you touching yourself just to her speaking. "Was baby doing this the whole time I was talking?" She then says. Your cheeks grow red with heat. "I- uhm." She lets out an evil chuckle, sending tingles straight to your pussy. It was such a hot chuckle. But then again, anything she did right now was 10x hotter. "You're such a filthy girl huh?" You bite your lip yet again.
Feeling more pleasure than you had been. "Please keep talking please." You begged. Voice so needy. "Plunge deeper for me, know you can. Imagine my fingers. How deep they go. Imagine your thumb is my tongue as I swirl it around your throbbing clit." Your back arches at the thought, you needed it more than anything. "Need you so bad." A louder moan was to be heard. The fact this woman is just talking to you and you almost coat the sheets in your nectar. She felt all the power in this moment. "Go faster for me - that's a good girl." She finishes as she hears the squelching increase. Your breaths and moans mingle into one as you get closer.
"Mmm, fuck I'm so so close. Please." She laughs yet again. "So cute, still asking to cum even when I'm miles away. So incredibly good, aren't you?" Your head lulls back into the pillows again, feeling the knot almost snap. "Fuck, Billie." - "Faster baby, rub your clit. Wanna hear you squirt." Just those words alone send both of those sensations out of you, having you leak and squirt all at once. Your breath being uneven as your eyes roll back. "Good, girl. That's what I like to hear."
#billie eilish#billie elish icons#billie ellish lyrics#billie#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish smut#billie eilish fanfiction#billie elish moodboard#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x reader smut#billie eilish x y/n
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100,000 dollars is not a lot of money.
it is also a lot more money than i will ever have. my student loans make up half of that - they're coming back, i'm told, like we all bounced back recently. the other day while paying for gas to go to work, i overdrew my account without knowing it.
i sat in the car and looked at the charge and tried to do the math. where the fuck is the money even going? i don't live extravagantly. i live in a hole in the ground, in an apartment the size of a sneeze; covered in ants. yes, i wanted to live close to a population center. maybe that's my fault. i've downloaded the apps and i've spoken to the experts and i've cut back on excess. i can't help the pharmacy bills or the medical debt.
i have a good, well-paying job. when i googled it to see if i was getting a fair salary, i found out i'd be making "upper middle class" money. which doesn't make sense - is "upper middle class" now just "able to afford a one-bedroom without a roommate". when i was younger, upper-middle meant a nice big house and a backyard and vacations and not flinching about eating at a resturant.
i was talking to my friend who is a realtor. he said 100,000 dollars is extremely cheap for housing. he's not wrong. 100,000 dollars would change my life. 100,000 dollars also won't really buy you anything. it could get you out of debt, potentially, if you were lucky and had a certain amount of scholarships to tack onto your degree. you could pay off the car and then have enough left over for "spending" money. how fucking amazing. one vacation, maybe two if you're thrifty. and then - like magic - the money would evaporate into nothing. people would sigh and tell you see, you should have put it into savings! like "upper middle class" people can't afford to value "actually living" over squirrelling wealth. you should spend your life only in scarcity. like that is what made the rich people all their real "actually a lot of money".
100,000 dollars would literally set me free. it also would just set me back to "earning normally" instead of paying down debt into infinity. god, do you know how many of us just want that? that our first thought is we could stop scrambling and just be free of debt if we won the lottery? that we don't even necessarily need to stop working - we just wouldn't have to worry about failing or falling?
and. at the same time. 100,000 dollars is next to fucking nothing.
#writeblr#me paying my taxes this year:#haha good to know im literally doing more for my community out of my tiny apartment#than most corporations will do in their entire scope! :) these motherfuckers will NEVER pay taxes!!!#bc they lobby others to be sure we CHOKE :) !!!#i hope this is clear like. this isn't someone being like ''haha if i got 100k it wouldn't be a big deal''#it's more like. the gap between corporations and the ppl WORKING in those corporations#has become HORRIFIC. 100k to the company i work for is like. pocket change to them.#and it is LIFE CHANGING for me.#they could cut me a check for 100k tomorrow and not even budge their margin of error
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Hey 😊 I love your writing sooo much !
Would you maybe write a Tim Bradford imagine where you're also a TO and you're having feelings for each other but you both try to ignore them, not to let them get in your way during the job. One time that changes as like in the episodes where Lucy gets kidnapped, it's you instead of her after a date gone wrong. Tim is on the edge the whole time till they find you. And when he sees you in that barrel, barely alive, his world crashes. Of course you can be saved and he stays at the hospital all the time. When you get home he also insists on taking care of you and there he also finds the courage to tell you his feelings properly, how much he loves you and that he'll always be there to protect you. I hope that's okay with you 💗🫶🏼
I’m not going anywhere
Summary: Tim and Y/N, both tough and dedicated TOs, struggle to suppress their growing feelings for each other. When Y/N is abducted after a date goes wrong, Tim refuses to back down, risking everything to find her.
Note: I'm so glad you enjoy my stories, love! 🫶 Thank you for this amazing request, I absolutely love the idea! I decided to give it my own spin to keep it unique and fresh instead of copying the entire episode. I hope you enjoy it! 🤍
Reader x Tim Bradford
Genre: fluff/angst
Being a Training Officer was never easy. You were expected to mold rookies into dependable cops, but it was also your job to keep them alive.
Every shift brought challenges that tested your patience and skills, especially when you worked alongside someone like Tim Bradford.
Tim was a force of nature. His bluntness could crush egos, his discipline was unmatched, and his loyalty ran deeper than any badge.
As a fellow TO, I admired him more than I cared to admit. But admiration had morphed into something more, something complicated.
I had feelings for him. And it was maddening.
Tim was infuriating. He challenged me at every turn, pushed me to my limits, and managed to crawl under my skin like no one else ever had.
But then there were the moments that made my heart ache:
the quiet glances when he thought no one was watching, the softness in his voice when he checked on me after a tough day, the way he never let anyone, rookie or otherwise, disrespect me.
We would also text each other back and forth to check in on one another.
It got to the point where if one of us didn’t respond within an hour, we assumed something was wrong.
That’s what normal colleagues do, right? Checking up on one another, or am I just fooling myself?
For months, I’d buried those feelings, telling myself that they were a distraction I couldn’t afford.
This job was dangerous enough without the added complication of being in love with my colleague.
Still, there were moments when I wondered if he felt the same.
I mean, someone like Tim Bradford wouldn’t just know my favorite coffee order for no reason, right?
The station was already filled with people when I arrived, the smell of burnt coffee and stale paperwork filling the air.
I was halfway to my desk when I heard Tim’s voice behind me.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” he said, stepping beside me.
“Good morning to you too, Bradford,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“I’m serious,” he said, giving me a once-over and putting the coffee he got me down on my desk.
“Late night?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, collapsing into my chair.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Work-related?”
“No.”
He didn’t ask further, but the tension in his jaw told me he wanted to.
The truth was, I’d been on another date last night.
For weeks, I’d been trying to distract myself from my feelings for Tim by going out with guys I barely knew.
The dates were always the same, awkward conversations, forced laughter, and a growing sense that I was wasting my time.
But I kept trying, convinced that if I could just find someone else, I’d stop thinking about Tim every second of every day.
“How’s the rookie?” I asked, steering the conversation away from myself.
Tim sighed. “Still green, but they’ll get there.”
Before he could say more, Angela appeared, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Well, if it isn’t the dream team,” she teased, leaning against my desk.
“What do you want, Lopez?” Tim asked, crossing his arms.
“Nothing,” she said innocently.
“Just enjoying the sight of you two pretending you’re not completely into each other.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “Excuse me?”
Angela smirked. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious to everyone but you two.”
Tim’s ears turned red, and he muttered something under his breath before walking off.
“You really need to do something about that tension,” Angela said, winking at me.
I glared at her. “There is no tension. Besides, I'm going on a date later tonight." I added to make her shut up.
“Sure, but we both know the real reason why you're going on that date,” she said, walking away with a laugh.
I glanced at Tim, who was now at the other end of the room, barking orders at a rookie.
For a moment, our eyes met, and my heart did that stupid fluttering thing I hated so much.
Angela might have been onto something.
That evening after my shift, I found myself sitting across from Eric, my date for the night.
He was tall, dark-haired, and charming in a way that felt almost too polished.
We’d met at a coffee shop a week ago, and while I hadn’t been particularly interested, I’d agreed to go out with him.
“So, what made you say yes?” Eric asked, flashing me a grin.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” I admitted, sipping my drink.
He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
I nodded, but my mind wasn’t really on him. As he talked about his job in finance, I found myself comparing him to Tim.
Eric was nice, but he didn’t have Tim’s sharp wit or his quiet strength.
“You’re distracted,” Eric said suddenly, his voice breaking into my thoughts.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Long day.”
“Let’s fix that,” he said, signaling the bartender for another round. “How about we go somewhere quieter after this?”
I hesitated, knowing I shouldn't agree to go with a stranger but I wanted to forget about Tim.
His charm had a rehearsed quality, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about Eric felt... off.
But I pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to my overactive imagination.
“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile
Eric’s apartment was in a run-down building on the outskirts of the city.
The moment I stepped inside, unease crept up my spine.
The place was sparse, too sparse, and smelled faintly of chemicals.
“Nice place,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
“Thanks,” Eric replied, locking the door behind us.
When I turned to face him, his expression had changed. The easy smile was gone, replaced by something darker.
“You’re a cop, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.
I froze. Not understanding why that was important. “What?”
“I saw your badge the other night,” he said, stepping closer.
My heart raced. “Eric, I think you’re confused—”
Before I could finish, he grabbed my arm, his grip bruising.
“You cops think you’re so smart,” he snarled. “Always sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”
“Let go of me,” I said, trying to pull away.
He didn’t. Instead, he shoved me against the wall, his hand clamping over my mouth.
“You’re going to regret this,” he hissed.
Panic surged through me as he dragged me toward a side door. My mind raced, searching for an escape, but he was too strong.
The last thing I saw before everything went black was the glint of a syringe in his hand.
When I woke up, my head throbbed, and my body felt heavy. I was in a dark, cold room, my hands bound and my mouth gagged.
Eric stood over me, a twisted smile on his face.
“Slept well, officer?” he taunted.
I glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“You thought you could mess with me?” he continued, pacing. “Well, now you’re going to see what happens when people cross me.”
He opened a barrel in the corner of the room, the metallic smell making my stomach churn.
“No one’s coming for you,” he said, lifting me effortlessly and shoving me inside.
As the lid closed, plunging me into darkness, I fought to stay calm. I couldn’t die here. Not like this.
Meanwhile, Tim paced through the station, his instincts churning. Something was wrong.
He couldn't explain it, but the nagging feeling in his gut had only grown stronger since Y/N hadn’t responded to his messages.
It wasn’t like her to leave him hanging, and she always checked in after her shifts or when she went out.
He tried to push the thought aside, she was a grown woman, capable and strong, but it wouldn’t leave him.
Tim knew her routines, and her habits, and something didn’t add up. He checked his phone again.
Nothing.
“Where is she?” he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling over.
Back at his desk, Tim pulled out his phone and shot her another text:
“You home safe?”
The minutes ticked by, and there was no response.
He told himself she was probably asleep or didn’t hear her phone. She always replied, though. Always.
Another text: “Y/N, call me when you get this.”
Tim stared at the screen, waiting, the worry clawing at him now. He scrolled through their recent messages, trying to reassure himself.
Her last text had been earlier in the evening: “Heading out now. Have fun working your long shift!”
It sounded normal. Casual. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
He stepped out into the hallway and called her phone. It rang and rang before going to voicemail.
“Y/N, it’s me. Call me back when you get this, alright? Just… let me know you’re okay.”
He hung up, his chest tightening. Something was definitely wrong.
Tim called her again, then again, but there was no answer.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth.
He decided to start with the basics. Heading to Grey’s office, Tim knocked and stepped in without waiting for an answer.
“Bradford, what can I do for you?” Grey asked, looking up from his paperwork.
“Have you seen Y/L/N? She didn’t come back to the station tonight, did she?” Tim asked, keeping his tone steady, though his mind was racing.
Grey shook his head. “No, she clocked out on time. Why?”
Tim hesitated. “No reason just hadn’t heard from her. Thought she might’ve stayed late.”
“Everything okay?” Grey’s perceptive gaze lingered.
“Yeah. I’m sure it’s fine.” Tim turned and left the office, though his gut told him otherwise.
Tim strode into the bullpen, where Angela Lopez and Nyla Harper were deep in conversation over their laptops.
“Have either of you heard from Y/N?” Tim asked abruptly.
Angela looked up, frowning. “Not since this morning. Didn’t she have a date tonight?”
The word date hit Tim like a punch. “Do you know where?”
Angela shook her head. “She didn’t say much, just that it was someone new she met online. Why?”
Tim’s jaw tightened. “She’s not answering her phone.”
Nyla set her coffee down, her sharp instincts immediately kicking in. “How long has it been?”
“Hours,” Tim admitted, his frustration evident. “She always checks in. This isn’t like her.”
Angela exchanged a glance with Nyla.
“Alright,” Nyla said, standing up.
“Let’s figure this out. You said she had a date, does she use any apps? Maybe tech can pull her messages.”
Angela nodded. “She mentioned using something, but I don’t remember the name. Let’s get tech on it.”
Angela grabbed her phone, calling tech support while Nyla placed a calming hand on Tim’s shoulder.
“We’ll find her, Bradford,” she said firmly. “You know Y/N, she’s tough. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.”
Tim didn’t respond, his jaw clenched tightly.
The bullpen was full of people and their voices, but to Tim, the noise was a distant hum.
His focus was razor-sharp, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ached.
He loomed behind the tech analyst’s desk, the tension radiating off him making the others keep their distance.
Angela and Nyla exchanged concerned glances nearby, but no one dared to interrupt him.
“Anything yet?” he barked, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.
The analyst flinched slightly but kept typing. “I’m pulling her dating app data now. It’s just taking a moment to decrypt the server.”
Tim’s fists clenched at his sides. Every second felt like a lifetime.
Y/N was out there, somewhere, and the thought of her being in danger gnawed at him like a vice around his chest.
Finally, the analyst straightened. “Got something!”
Tim surged forward, leaning over the desk as the analyst brought up a profile on the screen.
“She was messaging a guy named Eric Dawson,” the analyst explained, scrolling through the messages.
“They had arranged to meet at a bar in Eagle Rock.”
Tim’s heart pounded. “What bar?”
“Solana’s Tavern,” the analyst replied.
Nyla crossed her arms, her brow furrowed.
“That area’s rough. Not exactly where you take someone on a first date.”
Tim’s chest tightened further. “Pull traffic cams from outside the bar. I need to know if she made it there and if she left.”
The analyst nodded and got to work, typing furiously. The tension in the room was suffocating as everyone watched the screen in silence.
Tim paced behind the desk, every step heavy with barely restrained anxiety.
“Tim,” Angela said softly, approaching him.
“Maybe you should take a beat. Let us handle this.”
He spun around, his eyes blazing. “No. She’s counting on me. I’m not sitting this one out.”
Angela held up her hands in surrender, backing off.
“Got it!” the analyst said, breaking the silence.
Footage from a traffic camera outside the bar flickered onto the screen.
They watched as Y/N appeared, her expression hesitant as she walked into the bar.
“There she is,” Angela said, pointing at the screen.
Tim leaned closer, his eyes locked on the image of Y/N.
He barely noticed how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the desk.
The analyst fast-forwarded the footage, scanning for her exit. About an hour later, Y/N appeared again, walking out with a man.
The guy had his hand on her arm, his grip firm, his body language all wrong.
“She doesn’t look comfortable,” Nyla said, her voice low.
“He’s leading her. She’s not willingly going with him.”
Tim’s stomach churned. “Run his plates,” he snapped, his tone sharp.
The analyst zoomed in on the car the man guided Y/N towards, pulling up the plate number.
Seconds later, the vehicle’s registration information appeared.
“The car is registered to an address just outside the city,” the analyst said.
“A warehouse on the outskirts of town.”
“That’s it,” Tim said, already moving.
He grabbed his vest and radio. “Gear up. We’re heading there now.”
“Tim,” Grey’s voice called, cutting through the chaos.
Tim stopped but didn’t turn around.
“You need to stay focused,” Grey said firmly, stepping closer.
“I know how much this means to you, but if you’re too emotional, you’ll compromise the operation.”
Tim turned, his eyes hard. “With all due respect sir but again, I’m not sitting this one out.”
Grey studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. But keep your head on straight. She’s counting on you, and I can't afford to lose one of my best officers.”
Tim nodded sharply, strapping on his vest.
“Let’s move,” he said to Angela and Nyla, his tone leaving no room for argument.
With the rest of the team following behind.
The warehouse loomed in the distance, a decrepit shell of concrete and rust that felt suffocating even from the outside.
Tim’s heart pounded in his chest as he and the team moved in silently, weapons drawn.
Every instinct screamed at him to hurry, but he forced himself to stay focused.
This wasn’t just another rescue mission. This was Y/N. His Y/N.
And he was barely holding it together.
They moved through the darkened halls, their flashlights sweeping over scattered debris and abandoned machinery.
The air was thick with the smell of oil and mildew, but there was something else, a faint metallic tang that Tim couldn’t quite place.
It turned his stomach.
“Clear,” Angela said, her voice steady as they swept one room after another.
Tim’s jaw clenched. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and with each empty room, the knot in his chest tightened.
“Over here!” Nolan’s voice cut through the tense silence.
Tim turned, his flashlight catching the glint of something metallic in the corner of the room. A row of barrels.
“No...” he whispered, his legs moving before his brain could catch up.
The closer he got, the stronger the smell became, an acrid mix of chemicals and fear.
He dropped to his knees in front of the nearest barrel, his hands trembling as he pried the lid off.
Empty.
He moved to the next one, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Bradford,” Angela said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“No!” he snapped, shaking her off. “I’m not stopping.”
The third barrel was heavier. He could feel it as he pulled at the lid, his muscles straining. And then it came loose.
Tim’s flashlight illuminated the inside, and his entire world shattered.
It was her.
Y/N was curled inside, her body limp, her skin pale and clammy. Her wrists were bound, the rope digging so deeply into her skin that blood had dried in angry, red streaks.
Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling so faintly he almost missed it.
“Y/N!” he choked, dropping his flashlight and reaching in to pull her out.
“Get a medic!” Angela yelled, her voice distant as Tim focused solely on Y/N.
He cradled her against his chest, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. It was there, but weak.
“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stay with me.”
Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. But then her lips parted, and a barely audible whisper escaped.
“Tim...”
Relief surged through him, hot and overwhelming.
“I’m here,” he said, brushing the hair from her face. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Her head lolled against his chest, and he tightened his grip, as if holding her closer could somehow shield her from everything she’d been through.
The paramedics arrived moments later, but to Tim, it felt like hours.
He reluctantly let them take her, his hands still hovering as if afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t keep touching her.
As they loaded her into the ambulance, Angela placed a hand on his shoulder again. This time, he didn’t shrug it off.
“You did good,” she said softly.
He didn’t answer. All he could think about was the sight of her in that barrel, the life nearly drained out of her.
And how he never wanted to feel that kind of fear again.
The first thing I felt was pain, dull, throbbing, and constant pain.
It was everywhere, but especially in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe deeply without it stabbing me from the inside.
My eyes fluttered open, and I was greeted by a blinding white light that made me squeeze them shut again.
I tried to move, but my body protested. My throat was dry, my lips cracked.
“Y/N?”
The voice was soft, deep, and familiar. I forced my eyes open again, squinting, and slowly turned my head toward the sound.
“Tim…” I croaked, barely above a whisper.
He was right there, leaning forward in the stiff hospital chair like he’d been glued to it for hours.
His hands were gripping mine tightly, and his face was a mixture of relief and worry.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice rough and unsteady.
His eyes softened as they roamed over my face like he couldn’t believe I was actually there.
“Where am I?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“You’re in the hospital,” he said, sitting up straighter. “You’re safe now. We found you.”
The memories started flooding back. The date. The man. Everything.
My heart rate spiked, and the beeping from the monitor beside me quickened.
“The barrel…” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Tears stung my eyes as I remembered the cold, the suffocating darkness, and the terror that had gripped me when I thought I’d never get out.
Tim’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me.
“It’s over. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he said firmly, his voice laced with a quiet rage.
“I thought… I thought I was going to die,” I admitted, my voice trembling.
Tim’s jaw tightened, and he leaned closer. “You didn’t. You fought, Y/N. You held on long enough for us to get to you. And I swear, nothing like this will ever happen to you again. I won’t let it.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I looked at him.
His face etched with so much emotion that it was hard to believe this was the same Tim Bradford who kept his feelings so close to his chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He shook his head, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Don’t thank me. Just… promise me you’ll be more careful. No more dates with guys like that.”
I let out a weak laugh that quickly turned into a wince. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
His lips curved into the faintest smile, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade.
The drive back to my place was quiet. Tim insisted on taking me home himself after I got discharged.
I didn’t have the energy to argue. My ribs ached with every bump in the road, and the painkillers they’d given me at the hospital were starting to wear off.
When we got to my place, I reached for the door handle, but Tim was faster.
He was already out of the car and opening my door before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt.
“You don’t have to hover, you know,” I said, trying to inject some humor into my voice.
“You’ve barely been out of the hospital for a day,” he shot back, ignoring my attempt to downplay things.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
I didn’t argue. Honestly, I didn’t want to be alone.
Inside, Tim helped me settle on the couch, propping me up with pillows and making sure I had everything within arm’s reach: water, my phone, and even the remote for the TV.
“Comfortable?” he asked, standing in front of me with his arms crossed.
“Yes, officer Bradford,” I teased, giving him a tired smile.
He smirked but didn’t respond. Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen, and I heard the faint clatter of dishes.
A few minutes later, he returned with a cup of tea.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me carefully. “Drink. Doctor’s orders.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you become so domestic?”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said, sitting down in the armchair across from me.
We sat in silence for a while, the tension between us thick and unspoken.
I sipped my tea, glancing at him occasionally, and each time I did, I caught him staring at me like he was afraid I might disappear.
“You know,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”
Tim frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. End of discussion.”
There was a finality in his tone that told me arguing would be pointless. Still, I couldn’t help but ask,
“Why?”
His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest.
“Because I need to make sure you’re okay,” he said quietly.
Something in his voice made my chest tighten. “Tim…”
“I thought I lost you,” he said, cutting me off.
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, all the walls he kept so carefully constructed were gone.
“Do you know what it felt like, finding you like that? You were barely breathing, Y/N. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things on this job, but nothing ever scared me like that.”
I set the cup down, my hands trembling. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. But I can’t—” He stopped, his voice breaking.
“I can’t go through that again.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, my heart aching at the raw emotion in his voice.
“I’m still here, Tim,” I said softly.
His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded. “Yeah. You are.”
Later that evening,
The room was quiet, the soft hum of the TV filling the background.
I was cocooned in a blanket, my body still aching, but the dull pain was nothing compared to the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
Tim was sitting close, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his presence steady and comforting.
Without thinking, I shifted closer, leaning my head against his shoulder.
It wasn’t intentional, or maybe it was, but it felt natural like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Tim didn’t move. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel him tense slightly under my touch.
“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.
I lifted my head, glancing at him in confusion. “For what?”
“For everything.” His eyes were fixed on the TV, but he wasn’t really watching it.
“For not seeing the signs. For not protecting you. For letting this happen to you.”
“Tim…” I reached out, placing my hand lightly on his arm.
“You couldn’t have known. It wasn’t your fault.”
He finally turned to look at me, his blue eyes swirling with guilt, and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite put into words.
“That’s not all I’m sorry for.”
A knot formed in my stomach. “What do you mean?”
Tim hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was debating whether or not to say what was on his mind.
Then, he shifted, turning his body toward me fully. “I’ve been holding something back. Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”
My heart began to race. I swallowed hard. “Tim…”
He shook his head, cutting me off gently. “Just… let me finish.” He took a deep breath.
“When I saw you in that barrel, when I thought I might lose you, I realized how much I’ve been lying to myself. About you. About us.”
His words hit me like a freight train, and I struggled to find my voice. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” He paused, his voice soft but steady.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for months. And I’ve been too much of a coward to say it because I thought it would mess everything up. The job. Us. But after what happened…”
His voice cracked slightly, his vulnerability breaking through. “I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t lose you without you knowing how I feel.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out the noise of the TV, of the world.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I could stop myself, I let out a shaky laugh.
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” I whispered.
Tim’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could overthink them.
“I’ve been going on those dates to forget about you.”
His eyes widened, shock flickering across his face. “What?”
“I thought…” My voice cracked, and I looked down at my hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
“I thought you’d never feel the same way. I thought if I distracted myself and forced myself to move on, I could stop feeling this way about you. But it never worked. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Tim.”
Silence settled between us, heavy and charged. Then, Tim let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You should’ve told me.”
“I was scared,” I admitted, finally looking up at him.
“Scared of ruining what we have. Scared of losing you.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.
He reached up, his hand gently cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“Not now. Not ever.”
I leaned into his touch, my heart swelling with relief, with joy, with everything I’d been holding back for so long.
“You mean that?”
“Every word,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
Slowly, he leaned in, and my breath caught in my throat.
He gave me every opportunity to pull away, to stop him, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to.
When his lips finally met mine, it was soft and tentative at first, as if we were both still testing the waters.
But then it deepened, carrying months of unspoken emotions, of longing, of everything we’d tried so hard to ignore.
When we finally pulled apart, I let out a breathless laugh, leaning my forehead against his.
“That was a long time coming.”
“You’re telling me,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
I pulled back slightly to look at him, my expression turning serious. “What happens now?”
He smiled softly, his eyes warm and filled with a rare tenderness.
“Now, we take it one day at a time. No rush. No pressure. But I promise you this: I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears stung my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief, of happiness.
I smiled, leaning into his embrace as his arms wrapped securely around me.
“I think I can live with that,” I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest.
And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I felt more at peace than I had in weeks.
Maybe even months. No matter what challenges lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain:
We’d face them together.
The end
#itim bradford fic#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford fluff#the rookie fic#the rookie fanfiction#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#tim x reader#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford x you
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In Disguise
Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?
Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader
Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!
Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise
Word count. 13K (oh...)
Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!
"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.
"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.
Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.
The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.
"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."
"Then where would you put your stuff?"
And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.
Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.
Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!
"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.
"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.
"Oh I made it just in time then."
Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"
And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."
The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"
Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."
"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.
It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.
So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.
Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.
"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.
"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.
After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.
"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.
"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.
Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."
"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.
Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.
Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.
It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.
During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.
That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"
"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.
You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.
You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.
Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.
They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.
They were such nerds.
You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.
"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.
Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."
"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.
"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"
"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.
"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.
"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.
"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.
"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.
"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.
You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"
"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.
This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."
"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.
You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"
You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"
You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.
"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."
"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.
You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."
"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.
You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."
And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.
Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in
You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.
Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.
You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.
You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.
You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.
Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.
"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.
Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"
"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.
You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"
You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.
"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.
"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"
And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.
God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.
What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!
Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.
After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?
"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.
"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.
You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"
"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.
"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"
"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.
"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?
"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.
"On a Sunday?"
"Computers work on Sunday's too."
God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."
Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.
Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.
..
Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.
So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.
Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?
Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.
Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.
Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.
Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.
And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?
You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?
That Kim Doyoung was making porn?
Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.
There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.
You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.
You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.
You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.
You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.
You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."
You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.
"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."
"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.
"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.
"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.
If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.
"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."
"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."
"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.
"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were.
His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.
"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.
"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"
You nod, curious. "You know him?"
"Not really, just know he's a jock."
You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."
Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."
..
"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.
"Exactly."
Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"
"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.
"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."
"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."
"Hey!"
"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.
"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.
"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.
"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.
You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."
"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.
Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."
"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."
"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.
You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.
"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.
"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."
"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.
You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."
Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."
"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.
"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"
"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."
"Worth a shot."
"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."
"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."
"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."
You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"
"Nope. Now."
You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"
"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.
"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.
Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."
"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."
"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.
Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.
You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.
You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"
You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."
Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."
You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"
Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."
Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?
"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?
You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"
Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.
You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?
"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.
"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.
Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."
You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."
"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."
He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."
Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"
"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."
Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"
"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"
"You what?" Doyoung perks up.
"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."
Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."
"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.
Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."
And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."
"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.
"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.
Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"
"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."
"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."
"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."
..
Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.
But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.
It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.
"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.
"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.
They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.
Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"
"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.
"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"
"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"
"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.
You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"
"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"
"I'm not a pervert!"
"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.
Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."
You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?
You admit. "I'm all ears."
"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.
"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.
"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."
Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."
"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"
Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"
"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.
So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?
Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.
You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.
Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.
Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!
You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.
It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.
Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.
While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.
You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.
Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.
There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."
Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"
You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.
A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.
Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"
But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.
Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."
You giggle. "I see that."
"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.
"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.
"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."
Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"
You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"
"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.
Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."
"Why not?"
"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?
Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.
"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.
"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."
"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.
Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"
You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"
"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."
His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.
"I wouldn't want to bother-"
"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"
You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"
"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.
But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?
"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.
"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.
You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"
"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."
"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.
“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”
You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”
“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.
You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."
And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?
Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.
That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.
Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?
Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.
The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."
"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."
You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"
He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."
You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?
You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!
You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"
Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."
You furrow your brows. "Alright.."
It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."
And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."
You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."
Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."
You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."
He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"
"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.
He meets your eyes. "Please?"
“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.
Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?”
It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.”
Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?”
You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."
You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.
And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-”
You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.
He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?
He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.
You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.
He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."
You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"
He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."
You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."
He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."
The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.
Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."
And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."
"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.
You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"
The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.
"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.
You swallow hard. "We were just-"
"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.
"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.
Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"
Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."
"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.
"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.
"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.
You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."
"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.
Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"
The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?
You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"
Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."
Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.
Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"
Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"
"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.
Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."
Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."
Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."
"A tease?"
"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.
You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."
"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"
Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."
You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"
You turn back to the other two. "I want to."
Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"
Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"
"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.
Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."
You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.
Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.”
“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words.
“Really?”
“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.
“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.”
“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you.
“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust.
You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!”
“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.”
You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core.
Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.”
Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.”
You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.”
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?”
You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.
Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.
You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"
You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.
He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.
Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"
You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"
"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"
You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.
Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.
"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."
He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.
You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.
You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"
He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.
Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.
Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.
But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"
Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"
You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"
Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.
"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"
Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."
Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.
He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.
"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.
"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.
"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."
He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?
Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."
You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.
You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.
The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.
You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.
Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.
He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.
Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.
He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.
"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"
You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.
He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."
You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.
"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."
You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.
Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.
You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"
He nods, "Are -shit- you?"
You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.
You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.
You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.
With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.
He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.
Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.
Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."
"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."
Who knew he could be so mean?
"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.
He smirks. "Is that what you want?"
You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."
He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."
You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"
The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.
"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.
"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"
The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.
"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.
You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.
Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.
You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.
His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.
“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe.
Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”
“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.
You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”
He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.”
Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.
Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.
Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."
Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.
Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"
You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"
He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."
"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.
"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."
You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.
He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.
You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.
You shout out, "I'm cumming!"
His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.
"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.
"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."
"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.
"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.
He blinks, "Yeah?"
You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.
Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."
Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"
Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."
"You're hard again, aren't you?"
The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."
He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."
You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.
Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?”
“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though.
“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,
You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."
However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again.
He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake.
“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss.
Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.”
His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?”
“Unless you don’t to-”
“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.
You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?
Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.
You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?
He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.
Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.
But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.
"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.
"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.
"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.
"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."
He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"
You smile, "Yes, really."
"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"
You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."
He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."
"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."
"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.
You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.
Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.
Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!
You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.
Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.
Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.
People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.
Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.
Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."
You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."
"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.
You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."
"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.
"That's not what I-"
"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."
"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.
He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."
"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."
Doyoung snorts, "Gross."
"Not like that, you pervert!"
"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.
"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."
"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"
You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."
The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Not telling her."
Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."
Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."
"It's all good, It's not that bad."
"You like listening don't you-"
"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."
#nct#nct imagines#nct smut#nct 127#nct 127 smut#nct 127 imagine#nct 127 x reader#nct yuta#nct doyoung#nct jungwoo#jungwoo x reader#yuta x reader#doyoung x reader#jungwoo smut#yuta smut#doyoung smut#jungwoo imagines#yuta imagines#nct scenarios#nct fanfic#nct smuts#nct smut imagines#nct x reader#kpop smut#nct fanfics#nct fanfiction
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Training officer Leon Kennedy x Fem Rookie Reader
WARNINGS: PROFANITY, IMPLIED AGE GAP, AWKWARD SITUATIONS, Litterally nothing else but part 2 is a little friskier
Word count:
I have part of part.2 if y’all want it just lmk😛
Oh and this is NOT proofread so sorry🙃
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
The mindless buzz of the radio echoed through the dirty policed issued junker. Street lights illuminating your face through the dusty windshield. The pitch black darkness of the outside blanketed the ground casting darkness around the light of the streetlights on the sidestreet where you and your TO were parked.
Yet another long houred stakeout you and your training officer had to babysit. Being a rookie meant long grueling hours and staying in a shitty motel paid for by the department.
You and your training officer’s shift was from 5am to 9pm. Usually your shifts aren't this long but your TO, Officer Kennedy volunteered the two of you for the long shift without you knowledge, of course. He is always looking for more hours to teach you the ins and outs of police work. He really is passionate about his job.
You take the hand your head was resting on and bring it out in front of your exhausted eyes to check the time on your watch.
8:56
Only 4 more minutes of this awful silence before you can sleep in some shitty motel bed to do this all over again.
It’s not that your training officer is boring, quite the opposite actually. The two of you can talk for hours on end about everything and nothing at the same time. Talking about things from life and philosophies to stupid things like movies and tv shows. However, he was very passionate that stakeouts are supposed to be silent.
If he wasn't your training officer and ahead of you in your chain of command you’d totally ask him out. Not only did the two of you instantly click the day he was assigned to be your training officer but he really is gorgeous. He has a sharp defined jawline, sandy blonde hair pushed back out of his face, pretty pinkish lips that look so soft, and piercing blue eyes that you could stare into for hours and never get bored.
“You done daydreaming rookie, our shift is over” Kennedy says with a tired smile, already out of the car holding your door open waiting for you to get out.
“Oh shoot sorry” you say sleepily apologetic, hurrying out of the vehicle before he shuts the door, letting out an awful creaking noise. “Is this junker the best they can afford?” you say staring judgefully at the beat up dirty black sedan you've been sitting in for the past 17 hours.
He huffs out a breathy laugh, “Oh this is nothing, you should've seen the trash they stuck me with when I was a rookie. You should be glad I'm your TO, we got one of the better ones”. He says while starting to walk towards the gas station you were meeting up with the next shift at.
He looks back to make sure you're catching up to him as you lagged back looking at the dents on the car.
You hurry up to his side, continuing a normal pace to match his.
“I can’t wait to take this uniform off and go to sleep” you say sighing whilst walking on the sidewalk just inches away from Kennedy.
“Me too, I'm exhausted, that had to be the longest shift of my career. But if it gives you valuable stakeout experience I'm all for it” Kennedy says, turning his eyes to meet yours with a sleepy smile. “And you're not horrible to be around y’know” he says staring into your eyes so strongly you think he must see your soul.
‘God if he was someone, anyone else, I’d be with him right now’ is all you could think when he gave you that sweet genuine smile. And you know he cares about you, he's gone in the line of fire to protect you countless times, but that's just his job, right?
You smile back at him and stare back into his icy blue eyes that were anything but cold. You’d swear that coworkers don't look at each other this way, but you have a tendency to be a little delusional. ‘We’re just two coworkers who flirt a little, that's normal’, you tell yourself.
After breaking eye contact your mind starts wandering. Maybe you aren't being delusional?
Kennedy looks over seeing you lost in thought staring off into space as you approach the brightly lit gas station. A red and blue “Open” sign flashed in your eyes catching your attention at the same time as his words “You okay rookie? You spaced out on me there” he says with nothing but concern on his pink face.
You immediately become flustered and feel your cheeks heat up so much they must be steaming in this bitter cold weather, realizing that you were daydreaming about the man standing right next to you. “Uhh yeah” you say hoping he doesn't pick up on your blush.
“You daydreamin’ about me or something” he says with a sly smile after he spotted your cheeks warming.
Your eyes shoot open before slapping him on his arm “shut up, you wish” you say with a scoff so he doesn't notice you internally screaming at yourself.
He chuckles and opens the door for you gesturing for you to walk in infront of him.
‘Ugh at this point I'm gonna fall in love with him before I become an actual officer’ is all you can think as he walks beside you to the employee break room of the gas station, opening the door for you once again. You catch yourself staring at the way the cuff of his shirt gets tight on his thick bicep when he moves it.
You enter the room and lock eyes with the night shift. A pale brown haired man with a 5 o’clock shadow standing stiffly in an isolated corner. The screen of his phone lit up his pale face highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. A stereotypical night shifter.
Kennedy tells him what we’ve learned over the course of our shift and the pale man nods before walking out of the room without another word.
Kennedy grabs a backpack and the cash on the table left by the department to use at the nextdoor motel for us to stay at until our next shift since it's so early, and this stakeout is particularly far. He opens the doors for you, as usual, and starts heading to the motel.
The flashing red light from the broken motel sign lights up Kennedys face beautifully. Painting every crevice of his face in deep red light. The red mixes with the blue of his eyes making them appear to be grey, and more beautiful than ever.
When you get inside you walk up to the older lady wearing a brown blouse sitting at the stand. “Hi, could we have two rooms please, preferably with anything bigger than a twin bed” you say with a polite smile.
“Sorry sweetie we’re fully booked, only got a room with a full” the lady says in a thick Appalachian accent.
“A room?” Kennedy asks from a step behind you.
“Yup, ‘ts all we got” she says with an unbothered shrug.
You and Kennedy exchange glances and you sit in silence trying to come up with a win-win solution to your problem.
He brings his hand up to place it on the back of his neck looking at you in an awakened silence. “Why don’t you take the room, my car isn’t too far, I can slee-”
You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence “Hell no it's freezing outside, im not letting you sleep in your car”. You say like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard before turning back to the lady at the stand. “We’ll take that room please” you say with a smile and turn back to Kennedy. “We’re both grown adults, we can share a room” you say insistently.
He shrugs and grabs the room key from the lady and heads toward your room on the second floor. While going up the stairs you notice him look at you with a sly smile “Jeez rookie if you wanted to share a bed with me this badly you could’ve just asked”.
You whip your head over to meet his, giving him a dirty look and rolling your eyes. “I did not” you say with a blank face.
“You sure? Seemed pretty insistent on me sleeping with you” he says smirking at his carefully chosen words.
“Gross, we’re sharing a bed not having sex. This is real life not one of your little fantasies” you say chuckling at your remark when you see his face drop.
Kennedy tries to come up with a comeback but is left blank. He scoffs “Whatever” before arriving at the door to your room reading ‘206’. He opens it and ushers you inside and out of the frigid cold.
When inside he plops down his small black and grey backpack he had kept at the gas station. He unzips the bag you didn't even realize he had, and starts pulling out shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in. He looks over to see you staring at him when he realizes you didn't have a bag with you.
“Did you seriously not bring a change of clothes?” he asks, looking genuinely shocked since you’re usually quite prepared.
“I completely forgot” you say slapping your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes and groaning at the thought of sleeping in your uniform.
He chuckles at your moping before throwing a shirt and some boxers at your head. “Here” he says with no elaboration.
You feel the slap of fabric on your face, looking at his clothes now at your feet. “No way, i'm not making you sleep in uniform” you say while picking up his clothes from where they had fallen on the floor. Walking up to him holding them out.
“Don’t worry about it, I brought shorts i'll just sleep in those” he says innocently like it's nothing.
You hesitantly accept and head to the bathroom to change. ‘Sleeping in a small bed with Leon Kennedy. In nothing but shorts. What could go wrong’ you think nervously while staring in the bathroom mirror. You change and stare at yourself in the mirror. Dressed in his clothes that smell just like him has you feeling all kinds of things. You walk out of the bathroom and stop in place when you see leon on his phone standing by the bed in nothing but shorts. Your eyes trail from his biceps, across his chest, down his toned muscular stomach, and a trail of sandy blond hair leading down into his shorts. Realizing where you are staring you snap your eyes back up only to see him staring at you dressed in his baggy clothes.
“Wow uh, you look good” he says almost out of breath.
“I'm just in a t-shirt weirdo” you say, feeling your cheeks heating up at his staring. You walk over to your side of the bed and plop down on your back and shut your eyes. Letting out the deepest breath you feel like you’ve been holding on to all day. You seriously were so tired you could fall asleep in seconds. Instead, you chose to force yourself back up to turn off the main light. You’re feet hit the cold floor jolting you awake. You turn off the light and turn around, going back to the bed you see Kennedy already under the covers. Part of you is a little sad you don’t get to stare at him just a little longer.
You follow his lead and climb under the covers and get comfortable. You lie on your back staring at the ceiling ‘why can't I fall asleep? I just worked way too many hours to be restless’ you thought to yourself. Too deep in thought to notice Kennedy in the same position but staring at you instead of the ceiling.
You look back over at him, finding his bright blue eyes through the darkness of the stuffy motel room. He was almost analyzing your face. Every feature, every freckle, every mole, every perfection.
“You’re so beautiful y’know” he says out of the blue. It’s not unusual for the two of you to flirt by any means, but this felt different. Felt real. Like everything we’ve said before was just jokes up until now.
#fanfic#leon kennedy#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil 2#leon kennedy smut#leon Kennedy is so sexy
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->You're hyper independent || Ateez Reactions || Maknae Line
Genre: fluff, angst for Jongho’s part, slice of life AU
Warnings: mentions of relatives' death on Mingi’s part; mentions overworking, lack of self care and unhealthy perfectionism on San’s part; this IS more heavy in general than the first part, I'm so sorry. I don't incentivize any of the behaviors depicted in this.
N/A: This is a very real trauma response that real people have. However, I tried to keep it light, humorous, and focus on the support and love the reader received from the boys in different contexts instead of the actual trauma triggering situation that cause the trauma response. If I, in any way, offend people who have this trauma response, I'm open to learning and editing this, if necessary.
N/A ²: This is a gender neutral! reader in all of them, but Mingi’s part.
Ateez Masterlist
Hyung Line version
Choi San (최산): He’ll take care of you, whether you like it or not
Choi San wasn’t your husband, yet at least. The engagement talk was at its peak, and you knew a proposal wasn’t far off. Still, if any of your friends saw the two of you on a normal day, they’d ask where you found such an amazing house husband, and you wouldn’t be able to respond. He wasn’t your house husband, nothing against it, but you wouldn’t be able to be with a man that hadn’t the same ambition with his work as you did. Well, maybe San didn’t have this hunger to be at the top like you, but he was determined and passionate, striving to be his best every day and finding new ways to grow, and that was enough for you.
Although he had his own fair share of work schedule, his work from home was flexible and task-based rather than time-based, so with his efficiency, he managed to have more free time than you. This led to your current arrangement. It was rare for you to be at home if it wasn’t on a weekend, so it was a seamless transition for him to live with you and contribute a bigger portion of house labor. His presence was something dangerous because you started to think about what you would do without him in your life. He added instead of subtracting from your energy and time, which sometimes seemed like a surreal dream.
You had a full-time job, a good apartment, a car, and a whole social life you had to manage. There was so much you wanted to do with your life, with your free time, that you were used to the feeling of being hungry throughout the day or dizziness from the lack of hydration. The only way you managed to rest was when you were asleep. Otherwise, you felt like you were losing time. This was your normal day-to-day self, what you were used to, and yes, you knew it was bad.
When you met San, your health was at its lowest. It was normal for him to be worried, and your friends and family were. But he was the one that took action, a man you barely knew at the time. All his attempts were kindly rejected by you, and then you hated the thought of him, of all people, helping you. Not only you didn’t need it, but you’d hate to be a bother.
But San was as stubborn as he was beautiful. He reminded you religiously to drink water, cooked healthy meals for you even on weekends, bought groceries for you when you didn’t have the time for so many weeks you were truly embarrassed by yourself, took care of your plants when you were away on work trips and so much more.
It was all so weird. You constantly waited for the other shoe to drop. For the time when he’d be tired of this constant routine of caring for you. Your toxic self was waiting for the confirmation that you were too much for anyone to handle, that nobody could be with you and keep up, that you were the problem and that was the reason you could never be in a relationship for long.
But San proved you wrong, again and again, and you couldn’t even be mad at him for it.
Song Mingi (송민기): Turns out, he’s not just a silly little guy
Mingi was your younger brother best friend, and there were times you hated him for it. As the elder daughter, you took on the biggest load of everything in your house up until you left for college in another state. Until that moment, you had to be silent and grateful about it all. There was no throwing yourself on the ground to get your way or crying yourself out of your “duties”, which included but not limited to cooking all the meals for yourself and your brother, making the grocery store list and buying everything yourself once you were old enough, cleaning the entire house yourself, which wasn’t the initial agreement, and babysitting your brother 24/7 and his friends when they were over, which was almost every single day. So clearly, there was a lot on your plate, nothing a child should have on theirs. But why did you hate Mingi in specific? He wasn’t mean, but he thought it was funny to break rules, to do what your parents told they couldn’t and he got away with it while the blame fell on you. Not once, not twice.
In Mingi’s defense, he didn’t know actions had consequences at the time, he was 6 and a spoiled only child, also, he felt really shitty when your brother told him your parents punished you for some of the stuff they did later, but he thought it was too late. After two decades and something passed, somehow, you still saw him as the same irresponsible boy that got you into trouble. Mind you, he kind of never left your life completely, he was in bedded in the family’s stories, in the corner of the photos, in the little small get together that were family only, but he was never close to you. That’d be quite the impossible mission since you looked like you hated his guts.
But when the worst time of your life came, so did his redemption arc. Your grandma got really sick, and the whole family was in shambles, but somehow, you were the one expected to make the bigger sacrifices. Most of your relatives live far away, some out of the country and although your mom moved in with you, her health wasn't in an ideal condition to take care of someone else, which was already another problem and another whole set of eggs for you to be careful not to step on. It was only you in this, at least, you thought so until Mingi showed up on your doorstep, ready to help. It concerned you, but your position didn't allow you to turn him down. To your surprise, Mingi helped with a lot. Since he never moved away from his family home, he managed to help daily with meal prepping, groceries shopping, and the house up-keeping. No one really asked him to step up like that. Not even your own brother did this much after a week, yet he was by your side through it all.
A lot of the weight was off your back before you realized it. It was a weird sensation, but you were truly thankful for him, and you wanted to find a way to let him know. After an entire month, your relationship with Mingi was still stiff and awkward, yet you began to appreciate it for what it was, and maybe, someday, it'd be a work in progress.
Jeong Wooyoung (정우영): You may call him a wrecking ball
It seems like he has been paying for all his sins ahead of time because why does he have to love such difficult people? *dramatic sigh*. Ok, that was a lie. He didn’t care you weren’t the best with physical affection, you walked around like that wasn’t a thing at all, but that’s OK, because he’s affectionate enough for the both of you.
You had pretty established boundaries, more like a steel wall around you that people couldn’t go through. While Wooyoung…, yeah. It was a weird kind of friendship at first, if he could call a friendship. He was a work colleague, but somehow, he saw right through your tough act on day one, unlike everyone else. You tended to put a good distance in your every relationship unintentionally, too focused on your work to pay attention on small talk or the gossip of the day, but others saw it as a lack of interest in their friendship, which wasn’t true. You were as interested in them as you were scared of them.
Although it wasn’t possible for Wooyoung to know the in’s and out’s of your mind, he saw your unintentional push and pull game in those subtle ways. Whenever you tried to be closer to people in your own way, the effort wasn’t reciprocated until the point you’d take the hint. It was too late. You managed to scare them away again.
If anyone would ask him why he tried so hard to befriend you, he’d lie and say he didn’t have to try at all, you fell for his charms in an instant. But if he were to be honest, he’d say he saw a part of himself in you. In his eyes, you weren’t cold, nor uptight and mean. You just didn’t give love to others in an open way. This didn’t mean you didn’t have any to give or that you aren’t able to feel it. His running theory was that you were his exact opposite, and he couldn’t just live you be without helping you out or, at least, try.
The moment he got to crack a small piece of your wall, when he wasn’t even trying to, he was determined to see more. And oh boy, didn’t he see it? Now, this may be ridiculous, but he felt honored when you let him step into your world as a whole, no judgment, only him trying to understand you as a person. It warmed his heart that he got to be someone important in your life as much as you were on his.
If anyone that work along side the both of you saw you two today, years later, they wouldn’t believe it. But here you are, pretending you don’t like his weekly hugs spree while you don’t move a single muscle to get him off you. Isn’t it funny how things change? Hm? What was this, oh, you said you feel like laying down on the couch now, so you wouldn’t move? OK, he’d let you have that excuse for now.
Choi Jongho (최종호): he was your missing piece. Now you only miss him
To see him in a situation like this made you consider hysterically laughing until the moment your brain forgets where you are and you don’t care anymore. That must be a nice feeling, one you never really felt without him. Like you, he was dressed up for the weeding ceremony of your friend in common and you felt dumb, first, because you swore you’d only attend if there was no possibility of him coming, he was supposed to be out of the country and second, because he didn’t spare you another look.
Your breakup was amicable and mutual. With both of your lives ascending, the distance grew, physically and emotionally. There was no ease and stress-free conversations, suddenly you couldn’t relate to each other anymore and what was the point to be with him when the only thing you wanted to do on your break was rot in bed instead of seeing him? You had no energy to spare, and neither did him.
Why do you still care, then?
Because he was perfect for you, at least at some point, in every sense of the word. He saw you and didn’t judge, didn’t try to change who you was, instead he slowly but surely helped you adapt into a new routine with him in it. It was livelier and brighter when he was around.
The moment he left, you noticed that you just lived the happiest years of your life, and there was no coming back from it. You didn’t even attempt to talk once more, Jongho was like you in the sense that he carefully decided who stayed on his life and who didn’t, you moved to the latter, but you were the one that moved him out of yours first, weren’t you?
Your time management improved after all, but it let you down when it mattered the most. So, you tortured yourself a bit more, watching him and wondering what was going through his mind and if that had anything to do with you.
Jongho saw you the moment he walked in, but he pretended not to for his own sake. Although he'd never admit it out loud, to greet an ex at a weeding was above his maturity level. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Of course, you looked..., and of course, you'd have a date with you, but that didn't mean he had to see you two together, right? His solution was to stay away from you as far as he could. However, to accomplish such things, he'd have to be aware of your whereabouts all night long.
His self-control and straightforward priorities were some of his best qualities. He managed the need to stalk you on his worst days back then, so he never got to see how you were doing. At that moment, he could tell you were doing your best to be fine, to look perfect, but he used to know you better than that facade. Sometimes, he wondered if you regretted as much as he did.
#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez reactions#ateez headcanons#ateez masterlist#san imagines#san fluff#san x reader#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung x reader#mingi x reader#mingi fluff#jongho x reader#jongho headcanon#kpop headcanons#kpop fluff#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#ateez fics#ateez fic
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{ 167 }
peaches.
husband!jinwoo sung x wife!fem.reader
{ i get the feeling, so i'm sure | hand in my hand because i'm yours | i can't, i can't pretend, i can't ignore you're right for me | don't think you wanna know just where i’ve been, oh… }
when you first married your husband all those years ago, you didn’t think that your life would turn into something extraordinary-
almost too extraordinary.
of course, jinwoo sung had always been the sweetest, most kindest man alive. upon meeting you in college, he had stolen your heart with that mysterious smile and strange, glowing eyes of his. the way his soft ebony locks of hair fell across his features along with the way his full lips was turned up in a sheepish grin was enough to steal your heart instantly.
when the man began courting you was when you realized that your lover could do things that many normal people couldn’t do.
for starters, he had a strange, dark aura that constantly surrounded him. those wispy shadows would catch your attention, and before your gaze could follow them for too long, jinwoo would grab your chin and distract you with a kiss-
(which unfortunately for you, worked every time.)
the more you spent your time with him, the more you began to realize that those same wisps that exuded from his form would ultimately surround you as well. you recall the first night you had seen them after working a late shift at the diner that was your job during that time. once you had clocked out and stepped into the cold, night air, you swore you saw something shift within your shadow. curious as to what it was, you step closer to one of the streetlights, hoping that it would further accentuate your shadow-
only to nearly scream when you saw what looked like five pairs of glowing, purple eyes looking back at you. after the realization, you gasped and took a step back, suddenly finding yourself in someone’s arms, jinwoo’s happy voice whispering within your ear.
“hello, my beloved treasure. are you ready to go home?”
your head was spinning, looking at him, then back at your shadow to see it return back to its slender shape, glowing eyes all gone as your head began to spin. swallowing thickly, you turn around to hide your face within his chest.
“hm, what’s wrong, sarang?”
“it’s nothing.”
maybe you were just tired, that’s all. you didn’t want to worry jinwoo and tell him how you saw glowing, purple eyes staring back at you.
perhaps you should take his advice and stop working such late shifts after all?
instead, you ignored those feelings of suspicion, simply cuddling closer to jinwoo as he walked back with you to your shared apartment (completely missing his sigh of relief when you didn’t bring up his soldiers seen in your shadow.)
you didn’t know why you ignored all the strangeness surrounding your beloved boyfriend, but perhaps it was due to the fact that he was such a walking green flag that you truly didn’t care nor mind.
ultimately, he was the best thing that ever happened to you, and who were you to give him up so easily?
after years spent dating, jinwoo finally proposes to you at the ripe age of 27, with you accepting his proposal within seconds. you recall basking in his sweet kisses before proceeding to make love with him the night of his proposal, further cementing your promises of forever with him.
after your marriage, you didn’t think of such weirdness ever again… choosing to simply ignore the shadowy wisps as you correctly guessed that they were meant to protect you-
however, it all reached a boiling point when your son, suho, reached his first birthday and began floating across the dining room table. your eyes go wide, seeing him glowing as the shadowy wisps surrounded your baby boy. he had gotten upset when you didn’t let him eat his birthday cake. one moment you were telling suho to wait for his papa, and the next he was floating above you with pieces of his cake clutched tightly within his tiny grasps.
jinwoo told you he had some work to do at the station, but you were too panicked to wait for him to come home tonight. in your anxious state, you called him right away, feeling grateful that he answers on the second ring.
“hello love-“
“jinwoo…! suho is… he’s floating and the shadows are trying to help him down… but he’s not coming down!”
you follow your child in hopes of catching him if he ever decided to come down, hearing jinwoo shift around a bit on the other line.
“don’t worry, sarang… i told you that i know how to fly, too, right?” amusement was heard in his voice, and you felt a sense of pure annoyance flooding your veins.
“you most certainly have not told me such things! and i expect a full explanation when you come home!”
“wait, my love-“
“and i mean everything, jinwoo sung!”
you hang up the call quickly, watching as suho took a nose dive back into your arms. filled with a sense of relief, you felt your son smear his cake all over your blouse and take a step back-
only to detect the faint scent of your husband’s cologne as his powerful arms were felt wrapped around you.
“how do you manage to do that?” you hiss at him, eyes weakly glaring at him when he holds you even tighter to his chest. again, he had appeared when you needed him the most.
“later, my love… i’ll tell you later… first, let’s celebrate our suho’s precious birthday.”
“bah!!!” suho’s eager cries for his father makes your heart melt, easing your anger just the tiniest bit. you pout while transferring suho into jinwoo’s arms, snickering when your son manages to smear even more bits of frosting and cake against his turtleneck sweater.
the next few hours were spent with you finishing up dinner and celebrating suho’s first birthday with his lopsided cake. never wishing to remain too far away from you or suho, jinwoo settles your form on his lap while you held on to suho, cleaning the crumbs of his cake off of his mouth as your husband cuddled close to you and your son.
when nightfall came and jinwoo helped put suho to bed in his crib, you stayed close by with your arms crossed over your chest. when he shuts suho’s door, his solemn, grey eyes meet with your gaze. you gesture at him to follow you out into the balcony, and he does so while wrapping a hand around your waist.
you slide open the glass door and close it, speaking in hushed tones so as to not disturb your neighbors. “i turned a blind eye to many things when it comes to you jinwoo… solely because i love you so damn much.”
he hums, holding you tightly in his embrace while momentarily looking at the skies.
“from shadows that seem to surround me to your strange glowing eyes-“
“we have a history together, my love.” jinwoo interrupts you, not looking away from the sky.
his words make you look up at him. “obviously, we do. we’ve been together since the start of college.”
“no… before that. way before that.”
taking advantage of his strength, he turns you around so that you were now facing him. his eyes glow that same, startling hue as his hands gripped at your shoulders tightly. “if you wish to know the truth, the whole truth, then say the word. i’m no longer the coward i once was… i’m certain i can keep you by my side regardless of what happens.”
you let out a shaky breath before giving him a nod as your final answer.
he brings you closer to him now, surrounding you within his powerful embrace as he kisses you fully on the lips. the shadows dance around you once more, as you saw a faint glow surrounding your form from beneath your closed eyelids-
and that single action alone was enough to pull the curtain away from your very memories.
there were gates and hunters… monarchs and monsters that threatened to destroy all of humanity…
and there was you and jinwoo…
a hunter with his healer…
all at once, you felt your vivid memories returning back to you, the onslaught of visions being too much to bear that you had a hard time discerning all of them. you end up falling against jinwoo, his arms being wrapped around you in a comforting manner as he prevented you from slumping against the ground.
your head was pounding, yet despite the pain, you manage to look up at him, seeing jinwoo with his eyes clenched shut as tears streamed down his face.
“i’ve been so alone- i’ve kept this burden of mine a secret for so long, and this may be selfish of me, but- i’m truly so happy that you know.”
you shake your head and push through the pain, leaning up to kiss him deeply as he delves his fingers into your hair. as the full moon shone brightly against your entangled forms, you knew that jinwoo had always been your soulmate from the start.
as you spend the following years in marital bliss, you gave suho a little sister named sera, a precious little girl who held both yours and jinwoo’s features while having your eyes. even at such a young age, suho swore to protect his little sister while allowing jinwoo’s shadow soldiers to surround both of them.
yet there was a growing concern between you and jinwoo when it came to your children. after all, jinwoo wanted both suho and sera to live a relatively normal and peaceful life, forcing him to lock away their memories pertaining to the powerful nature of their father (a power that they were sure to inherit someday.)
after jinwoo had erased your children’s memories, you spent the night in your children’s room comforting them, with beru crying while clutching on tightly to suho’s drawing depicting beru holding hands with both him and sera. as the former ant king leaves the room, you whisper to jinwoo.
“will you leave them in the dark forever?”
he shakes his head, bringing you into his embrace while pressing a kiss against your hair. “no, not forever. they’re both still too young… and i’d like to give the fruits of our love some happiness… after all, being children of the shadow monarch is no easy burden to bear…”
you hum in agreement, moving your head so that you could meet his lips in a searing kiss. regardless of what the future would bring, you swore to always remain by jinwoo’s side, all while protecting and raising your children…
“mom, if you keep cutting the cucumbers too much, it’ll be like baby food.”
you snap out of your reveries just then, looking down to see a 10-year old sera looking up at you with an innocent expression. you giggle and pick up the slender girl, allowing her to sit on the counter as you placed the cut cucumbers into a bowl for tonight’s kimchi.
“thank you for helping your mama.” you smile and brush your lips against your daughter’s forehead, earning a giggle from her.
“mama, where’s oppa…? it’s getting late.”
you purse your lips, looking up at the clock to see that it was 6:45pm… sera was right. usually suho would come home from school at around 3pm with your husband joining later around 8 to 9pm.
“my queen, do not fret, for your husband and young monarch are here…” tusk whispers in your ear, making your eyes widen in response.
as if on cue, the door was heard opening, with jinwoo carrying an unconscious suho in his arms.
“oppa!” sera calls out to her brother, jumping off the counter to meet with her father, “papa, is he okay? is oppa hurt?!”
jinwoo chuckles, ruffling his daughter’s hair with a fondness. “your oppa is fine, he just has a little headache. how about you keep him company until he feels better?”
sera gives him a determined nod, following jinwoo into suho’s room when you decide to put all of the ingredients for tonight’s dinner back into the fridge.
after all, jinwoo had a lot of explaining to do.
while waiting for jinwoo’s return, you poured him an ice cold glass of lemonade, filling it to the brim and offering it to him when you felt his arms suddenly encircle around your waist a couple of minutes later.
“thanks, honey…”
you face him, watching him drain the entire glass within seconds.
“where’s sera?”
“staying by her brother’s side until he wakes up. i told her to keep a close watch on him, he should feel better when dinner’s ready.”
you nod and lean against the kitchen sink. “and… just what did you do?”
you take a moment to admire him, feeling a sense of womanly pride filling you at the fact that he was your husband. despite how it was clear that jinwoo had aged, with slight wrinkles against the corner of his eyes and corner of his lips, he still looked as handsome as the day you first met him-
perhaps even handsomer than before.
settling the empty glass to the side, he wraps his arms around your back. “i was testing him, to see if he was ready to fully inherit my abilities. i even made a system for him to help level up as well.”
you hum and sway back and forth in his arms. “and…?”
jinwoo scoffs, “he is far from ready… filled with overconfidence and a cockiness that’s seen in all teenagers his age. suho has been too spoiled, never once facing the dangers or the fear of death… and such inexperience could lead to his downfall.”
your husband’s words manage to earn a laugh from you. “weren’t you just as cocky back then, too?”
jinwoo rolls his eyes, playfully taking your hand before gently biting down against your fingertip. “there’s a difference between fighting to protect what matters and when to stop when victory cannot be achieved. suho has yet to learn that."
he sighs when he sees the concerned look in your eyes, bringing you closer to him as he presses a lingering kiss against your forehead. “i just want him to be able to protect himself and sera if anything were to happen to us… and at the moment, he’s not ready to receive the full gift of my powers just yet.”
you let out a hum and rest your head against his chest. “our babies are growing up so fast… it’s crazy how far our family has come. i trust you and your judgement, jinwoo. because regardless… i’m so happy that i was able to be the mother of your children.”
“and you have no idea how happy i am to be the father of your children.”
after spending a few extra moments sharing kisses, jinwoo smiles down at you while framing at your face with his two hands.
“how about we order some fried chicken with all of our children’s favorite side dishes… as a treat and an apology for scaring our son?”
you giggle and roll your eyes at your husband and his playful smile, feeling your heart become alight with pure love for him-
praying that such bliss with him and your precious kids will last for forever and a day…
{ done being distracted | the one i need is right in my arms | your kisses taste the sweetest with mine | and i’ll be right here with you 'til end of time. }
a.n. - i was so desperate to write for hubby!jinwoo, and i’m so happy at how this turned out 🥹 i apologize for any errors, since i wish to get this posted asap!
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
#sung jinwoo x reader#jinwoo sung x reader#sung jinwoo x you#jinwoo sung x you#solo leveling x reader#.stories
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Nightshift pt.3
Having them as roommates was a problem
Tags: smut, mdni, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked, explicit language, f!reader, college au, Gojo and Geto as housemates , jealousy (again), filming, fingering, oral (f and m giving and receiving), public s[e]x (in the car) , panty stealing, crying, hand job, double penetration, squirting, threesome, hair pulling, edging, overall just me going feral again,
Author's note: I'll be honest with everybody in here, I'm embarrassed by what I'm writing. My creativity surprises me sometimes.
Author's note(again, sorry): I wanted to post it sooner but I'm busy with school and shit. My classes are in the morning and I'm this close on dropping everything for some sleep 🤏 (I wrote this a few months ago and all I can say is that life is so much better after dropping out.)
Pt1 Pt2 masterlist roommatesmasterlist
Life is strange. It's amusing the way it works. Fascinating, you could even say. Goofy, perhaps. But a thing was clearly, as long as you're housemates with Gojo and Geto you'll never live a peaceful day ever again.
Truly strange.
And you can't even figure it out when it all started, because now it's just normal. Your worries flew out the window a long time ago. Did you think that your relationship was weird? Yes. But it's not that unusual if you don't think about it.
You were anxious because they were anxious. Their weird energy got to you, that's why you ran away. Or maybe your thoughts got to them and now it was this game where everyone goes back and forth for nothing. Fighting over things that aren't even that deep to begin with. Conversation will always be the key. And if you know how to use it, then you'd have access to so many doors in life.
That's some philosophical talk, and we don't do stuff like that in this house. It was an idiot trying to show how dumb the other is, even if they share the same brain cells. Everyone were dumbasses in here. No one knew how to communicate or use the so called keys. Everyone were on their own trying to do what they know the best.
It's complicated. What is right and what is wrong? What made you so irresistible that made those hungry wolves to want to eat you alive? What made you so gorgeous that they couldn't take their eyes away? What made them want to compete with each other when they used to share women like air, changing the person next to them like socks. Here's a lady, and now another.
No one wanted to share anymore. All they wanted to do was to prove that one can have you more than the other. A competition with no start and finish line until you decide to make it stop. Which one you liked more? Which one made you stay up at night or make your pussy wet by just thinking of him?
Which one did popped up in your head first? Did you touched yourself think of someone? The thoughts could go on and on. It was truly amusing the way they didn't try to talk to you. Only make fantasies in their heads while observing you. So small, so cute. So ready to take that cock right now.
One had to do the first move on proving something that it doesn't need to be proved. Someone will cry, someone will laugh. One will end up victorious while the other will be sad. It can be both of them who's crying. It can be a whole another mf that gets you in the end.
Someone need to do something. Quick. Fast. Just hurry up.
And the one who did the first move was Gojo. Just the way he asked you to move in with him, he was also the one that made the decision on what's going to happen next.
It was simple. It wasn't even a move to get you. It was more to piss Geto off. It was to annoy his friend with the fact that he fucks you when he's out. It was to show him that you're having so much fun when he's not home. It was an audio of your sweet moans opened at the wrong time.
Geto didn't had the time to check his phone when he was out. Now that he got home, he walked in the kitchen, ready to eat something with you and his other housemate. He sat down on his chair, took a few bites and then press play on what his friend sent him. Moans. Everyone stopped and turned their heads on the dark haired man.
"Suguru, you dirty bastard." Satoru laughed. You looked in shook. You didn't even recognize the voice of who ever was that on his phone.
"Satoru, why would you send that?"
"Satoru???" you looked at the white haired man and all he did was to laugh.
It was just the start. Next time Geto received a video.
It started with Gojo placing his phone on the kitchen counter, facing you who was washing the dishes. He left his phone there and walked behind you, kissing you softly as his hands went down on you. You only sighed. You stopped whatever you were doing for him. His hands already in your pants, fingers rubbing your clit slowly. Your soft sounds, the way you let him do what he wanted to do. Suguru's eyes were fixed on the screen. He wanted to turn up the volume so bad, to hear you. He wanted to listen to your voice. And then the video stopped with Satoru fucking you with his fingers, his eyes moving on the camera, smirking.
Fucking hell.
How unfortunate for him to be away from home. Why does he have to be out here instead of being in that damn house.
So he waited. He waited until he got home. He waited a few days for his dear friend to go away, to just be out this house so he could get his hands on you.
Ohoho. And when he did.. He placed his phone on the couch, to face your lower half, getting in the picture your thighs and him who was in between your legs, eating you out.
He was doing it with so much passion only to make you loud. To make you clearly shake for the camera to capture it. To make your hands go in his hair so hesitantly, not knowing if you should pull at it or not, if you could even touch him. His arms were flexed, looking so big compared to your body. He was doing it intentionally, he even did a few pushed ups before he even pressed the record button.
He didn't wait for the sun to shine at the right angle for nothing. Everything was calculated, from the way the camera captures your body, to the best place in the house.
And it sure did backfired at Gojo, who was staring impatiently at the clock. When can he go home? When can he see you himself? That fucker. He thinks he can play his game? The game Satoru started? To think that he's the one jealous now.
And here was the plan for the other video the white haired man did. Or this is how it went.
Skin against skin. Usually he would have been scared of crushing you with his weight, but today? His body on top of yours, chest against chest. Your bare skin touching him with nothing in the way, your legs wrapped around his waist. Whenever you or him tried to get a little away, someone dragged the other back. Your nails into his back, holding into him like your life depended on it. Everything felt so intimate. The way you looked at him. Those big eyes that Geto calls ugly. That dumb little smile. You looked in love. In love? No. It can't be. Can you even love to begin with?
Is this what made you happy? Playing this gentleman of a man? Someone who will hold you tight in moments like this? I mean, who doesn't. But did you really liked it that much?So much that you'd look at that guy he calls his friend like you've been in love with him all your life? You're not even doing anything, just kissing, you're bodies being pressed against each other.
He had to try it himself.
Just like before. He waited for the right moment, then acted his plan up. Because if he'll get interrupted or wake up with an unwanted guest he'll go nuts.
He wasn't horny. He wasn't even in the mood to do something today, all he wanted to see was if you were like in that stupid video.
He sat at the edge in your bed, watching you getting your clothes off, never taking his eyes of you, always making you stay in front of him where he can see you better. His hands carefully placed on you, slowly dragging you into his arms.
He kissed your jaw, your neck, his hands all over your body. Just wanting to feel your skin, the warmth you gave him. How you looked so different compared to him. You were glowing, you were like a flower carefully placed in a field full of sunlight. And he was the moon who wanted to take all that happiness. The way you smiled under that damn sun, he wanted to take that away.
"Suguru.." you said his name so lovely. He was really going to bite you.
"Kiss me." he ordered. He wanted you to do a wrong move so he could punish you for looking so warmly. You let him in your arms so easily. It made him mad.
You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. It was so quick that he bearly even noticed.
"You call that a kiss?" he wrapped his arms around you and let himself fall down in bed, dragging you along with him. You yelped. You closed your eyes by how suddenly that was.
Skin against skin, huh? To hold you so close that you basically become a part of him.
He just got an idea.
He wrapped his hands around you while you were on top of him, trying your best to not fall into him. All he did was to tease you. His mouth on your chest, kissing and biting your nipples. One of his hands on your ass while the other was rubbing your back. Making you move your hips without even think on him. What he needed was you all needy for him.
And when he finally got you all desperate, he opened his camera, acting all nonchalant. Acting like he does this on a daily basis, like he have you all over him like this.
"You want me that bad?" he was a good actor, or at least that's what he thought.
"Stop playing with me. I need it right now." his heart skipped a beat, and so did Satoru's when he saw the video. The way you looked down at Suguru. The way you moved his pants to let his cock free, almost jumping on it instantly. It was his laughter that made you stop for a moment. You were frustrated, and you made sure to let him know about your feeling by looking angrily at him. He played with you for so long, you can't even count the minutes he played with your pussy. Fingering you so good and then stopped right when you were so close. He did this so many times that you don't trust a single word he says anymore. "You think it's funny?" you finally got his dick inside you. And oh, you're not going to stop until you get to actually cum this time.
"If you wanted me that much you should have said it earlier." he moved his hips forward, to help you. And to help himself.
"Dickhead." you slapped his chest softly. You couldn't listen to his words even if you wanted to. All you did was to move your hips, you needed any kind of friction. Anything that would calm the aching between your legs. Anything that would finally make you cum.
Your hand went between your legs, rubbing your clit, and biting your lip, refusing to let any sounds out that might feed his ego.
"Y/N." he looked in your eyes. He moved your hand away and he started to rub your clit. All you did was to gasp. "Focus. Move your hips like you mean it." this fucker. All he got from you were some little curses you let under your breath and you moving your hips better.
That video ended with you almost cumming. So close that it got Gojo gasping when he saw how fast the video ended. He didn't got to see you cum? The disrespect. The audacity. The idea he just got.
For the first time since you live there, Gojo call you in his room and placed you on his bed. Until now it was your room or any other place around the house. Anywhere but his own bed.
You never thought you'll get to sit in his bed like this. To get to do the forbidden tango in his room.
He got in bed next to you, placing you on his lap nice and cozy, your back pressed against his chest. "Hold this for me, ok?" he handed you his phone.
"What do you want me to do with it?" you asked unsure. You knew he was filming your little escapades for quite some time now, but to hand you the camera himself?
"Film it. Do whatever you want with it. Show me what you want me to see." you got a little unsure there.
"Alright.." you noticed that it was already recording before you thought of something. The camera was facing your face, capturing Gojo behind you. You moved it lower, now facing your chest, not even sure what he wanted to see.
His hands on your hips, slowly getting his dick inside your pussy. That warm thight pussy he loved so much. "Am I doing good?" his hand moved overs yours, moving the camera lower to film how it looked with his cock inside you.
"Make sure to capture everything." Suguru looked at his phone without any words. It didn't matter what Gojo might think of doing next, Geto haves to be the one with the better idea.
And another video was made.
Geto offered to buy the groceries. It was supposed to be Gojo's time this week, and how could he refuse someone else doing his chores for him? And so, Suguru dragged you with him.
The surprise look on Satoru's face to receive an video when you just left half an hour ago. You on top of Suguru in his car, because the dark haired man took Gojo's car for this quick trip. His excuse was that he mistook the keys with his.
He would had expected that video any time, but not today. Not like this. Not when he was took of guard. He couldn't help but look at the screen and turn the volume up.
You're half muffled moans and Geto praising the shit out of you. "Good girl, just like that." and you couldn't help but bounce on him faster. "Keep it slow now, we wouldn't want someone to notice us." oh, but he was actually dying inside for someone to see you two. Both of your roommates hoped for you to get caught.
"Suguru.." you moaned that name so sweetly. Honestly, Satoru was so jealous right now. If he knew sooner, he wouldn't had let someone else do his chores for him. He could have been in that car and fuck you.
He waited for you to come home. He sat right in front of the entrance, waiting for that fucker to appear. He needed to think of something even better. How about fucking you in Suguru's bed? Or making you wear his clothes to make his friend jealous? Even fuck you in them just to prove a point. Bath you in his perfume so you would smell like him. There was so many options.
And he got an even better idea.
He let you rest for that day. No, he let you rest for the rest of that week. Waiting for the perfect day, the perfect moment.
"It's my turn to do the laundry." Geto sighed. "You got anything else left in your rooms? Give it now." Gojo smiled and shook his head.
"I have nothing in my room." you said.
"Me neither."
"Alright then." he waited for Geto to get started with his work, then he dragged you in his room. He was so impatient that he didn't know what to do faster. He was taking your clothes off, his clothes, kissing you, rubbing that pretty pussy so you would get wet faster. He was so impatient that he didn't even prepared you first, the moment you layed on his bed he got in between your legs, forcing his cock inside your pussy. It hurts a little, but it also hurts his pride not being able to outdo his friend.
He's number one. He's the biggest person here.
He got his phone out as soon as he could move better, pressing the record button as fast as he could.
He was thrusting into you, not even once letting you breathe in peace. "You're pussy feels so good." that's all he could say. "Sucking me in like this." what he got in return was a photo of your underwear. A photo where Geto was holding some pairs of panties that he could recognize them in a instant, they were yours.
"I don't think Y/N would mind if I take some of these." Gojo stared at his phone screen. Tsk. He wasn't satisfied with the reaction he got.
"I'll keep the pair that I just took off her." Geto looked displeased at his phone screen. Would his friend be happy if he just barge in there and auto invite himself in? He didn't do that in the end, he already had other things to do. And if he just go there, Gojo would be the winner because that means he gave in.
"Alright, I don't what's going on between you two but I want you to stop." you went the next day in the kitchen, ready to put an end to this endless fighting of theirs. "I know you've been filming and sending the videos to one another, and I want this to end because this is going nowhere." you sighed. "If you want photos that much you should have asked me instead of fighting."
"You'll send me pictures of you if we stop fighting?" Gojo asked like he didn't heard what you just said. He ignored everything until you said that last sentence.
"That's not what I said."
"You said that you would." Geto totally listened to you, but again, he only understands what he wants.
"Did you even listen to me?"
"So, if we get along again and we stop filming you'll do it?" you could only sigh. These guys were so delusional that you couldn't even talk to them like normal people.
"Alright." you didn't even tried anymore, giving up was the best option.
"Is that an yes?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's good because we weren't fighting to begin with." Geto's words left you in disbelief. Huh?
"Ye, we just like to show what we're doing. Nothing much." Gojo said nonchalantly.
"Why didn't you said that earlier?"
"I was waiting for you to finish talking."
"Alright, so. For starter I want to get photos of your boobies. Some videos of you touching yourself here and there to make my day going when I'm tired. I want that pussy fully on display." Gojo already started a list.
"You could send me a picture right now." Geto's words didn't helped the situation.
"Show me what nudes you have in your phone." Satoru got next to you, trying to see your phone and what's in there.
It was your fault for thinking they're normal, because they're not, not at all.
Fortunately for you, your days became more peaceful. You kept your words to send them some pics now and then, and they stopped competing with each other. Oh, and don't think that you could send them the same picture, because they would get mad.
You hated there, but you gotta learn how to live with it, because you were also receiving stuff from them. A dick pic whenever they missed you, even some videos of them touching themselves moaning your name. It was just crazy. It never fails to make your jaw drop.
But your days came back to normal, no? Whatever normal even means anyway.
You woke up on another peaceful morning, because it was quiet and no one disturbed your sleep. You got up from your bed and went in the kitchen. Just wanting to feel their company there, maybe exchange some small talk and then fall asleep since you feel rather tired and lonely. Instead, you saw your house mates with another guy. A tall blonde guy who looked older than both of them.
You didn't know what to say, you just stood there trying to think of your next move. Go back to your room, it was none of your business, you shall not get involved.
"Oh? I didn't know you're up." the white haired man said before you could go back to bed.
"Good morning." Suguru greeted you, a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Good morning." you quietly said.
"Don't go just now. Come here." can you get a break? You did as he said, you went and sat down at the table at your usual spot. "Y/N, this is Nanami." Gojo said.
"Nice to meet you." you didn't know what to do.
"Nanami, this is our sweet Y/N." Satoru said it with this weird smile on his face. You had no idea what was going on in his head. Can he not embarrass you for once? You and Nanami sighed at the same time.
"I'm sorry for him. He usually behaves like this so I have no excuse." you said in Gojo's behalf.
"I don't expect much from him anyway." you studied the blonde a little. The expensive watch that was on his wrist, and the nice fancy shirt he had on. He had big shoulders, his muscles could be seen even through his clothes. His posture was flawless, everything about his screamed perfection. You didn't mean to stare, but he was definitely eye catching.
Your housemates were watching you. Who's fault was it for getting Kento here? They should have thought of how you'll react first.
They're jealous again.
They just managed to calm themselves and now it's starting again. This again, this again and again. Can they ever take a break?
Was this what you wanted? A guy like him? What's so perfect about Nanami, huh? Was it how he present himself? He looks tired, like he haven't slept in who knows how long. And yet, that didn't stopped him from dressing like usually or doing what he's supposed to do.
He looks like he was working a 9 to 5, and would treat you right. He looks like he would buy you flowers on a daily basis. He looks like he would remember all those small dates where it supposed to be an anniversary or someone's birthday. He looked like he was there to stay and put a ring on your finger. Was this what you wanted? A husband who would help you raise the kids properly?
Both Gojo and Geto gasped at the same time, they did a big mistake.
"Y/N, no." Satoru finally said something when he came back to reality. He haves to do something now so you won't end up married. Especially to Nanami, he looked like he would be perfect, that's what scares him the most.
"Y/N, go to sleep. It's too early for you." you looked confused at both of them. They told you stay there in the first place.
"Huh?" you looked at them in disbelief.
"Just go."
"Alright..?" you got up from your seat and went back to your room. What a bunch of weirdos.
That day, they promised to become just like the enemy, so that way you won't be impressed by some random fucker out there.
Their plan would fail so miserable, like always, but you can't do shit about it. It's not like you can figure their next move to stop them.
You walked out your room to get something to drink, only to be welcomed by them dressed like they were going to a job interview.
You looked at them, blinked a few times then looked behind you. No cameras or anything, or at least you can't see it. Was this some kind of prank? Was it some kind of special day today?
"You're speechless by how handsome I look, huh?" you blinked a few times. "No need to be shy, admire me as much as you need." Gojo striked a few poses.
"What's the occasion?" you asked getting closer to them.
"I always dress like this." the way Suguru lied with a straight face.
"You do? This is the first time I see you like this." you fixed Gojo's tie. "Do I need to wear a dress or something?"
You got dragged in your room and placed on the bed while they were looking in your closet. They put their hands on everything they saw, bras, panties and anything they could find. It didn't matter. If they see it, they'll get their hands on it.
"So what are we doing?" you asked.
"Playing dress up, isn't it obvious?" Gojo got something in his hands and got closer to your bed. "Hands up." he took your shirt off.
"I don't really see anything for you to try." Geto was still looking through your clothes.
"Let me get those down for you." Satoru took your pants off. His hands traveling back to your panties, wanting to take those off too.
"These stays on."
"Nuh uhh." he tried dragging your panties down, only for you to try to pull them up.
"Let me do it." you tried to protest.
"No." he slapped your hand. "We're playing dress up. Get those off and let me choose another pair for you." you gasped at his actions. Did he really just slapped your hand away?
"Satoru." Geto said something, making you to breathe reassured. "Move away. I'll do it." these fuckers. What could you expect.
"Alright, alright! I'll take them off myself." their eyes on you, you got their full attention. You raised your hips and with a simple move you took your panties off. Your actions will always work like magic on them. The way they're so captivated by such a simple movement.
"Put them back on." Satoru said, his eyes still on your skin. The scene from earlier replaying in his mind over and over again.
"You told me to take them off. Why would I have to put them back on?" you could only complain because of how childish this situation was.
Geto got on his knees in front of you, picking the small material that you just took off. "Get up." he commanded.
Can they stop playing with you for at least a moment? You did as he said tho, you got up and you couldn't do much since your way was blocked by the dark haired man. A kiss placed on your lower stomach before he put your underwear back on you. Your hands were on his shoulders, trying to hold yourself from falling.
"Not fair." Satoru dragged you back on your bed. Your back pressed against the blanket and Gojo in between your legs. He got your panties in between his teeth, slowly dragging them down and tossing it somewhere around the room.
"What got into you two again?" it was something sinister about how they look at you. Their eyes dark and filled with some kind of lust you didn't saw it before. It was normal for you to be horny, it was normal for them too, but now it was different. You had no idea if your insides would be rearranged or you'll have the sweetest time of your life. It scared you.
Gojo was breathing against your pussy, hot breath touching your skin over and over. It made you squirm a little. While Geto's hand went through your hair, moving it from your face. He sat down next to your head, his thumb slowly getting in your mouth, giving you something to occupy yourself with.
"Guys?" their silence was scaring you. All you hoped was that you could still walk tomorrow.
Satoru finally got his face in your pussy, he was practically making out with it. Never giving you a break from the start.
"Eyes up on me." Geto kept reminding you. You couldn't even close your eyes, because if you blinked too fast or too long, he also didn't like that.
You could feel Gojo's long fingers getting inside you. Moving them in and out of you for a moment, making you more wet than you already were. Then he started to curl them, instantly making your body shake.
One side was satisfied with your reactions, the other one not so much.
"Focusm" Suguru wanted you to only look at him. His hand now in your hair, keeping you in place so couldn't take your eyes off him.
"Y/N, look at me." Satoru said your name, placing a kiss on your clit before he started devouring it. Your back arches. Suguru gulped at your fucked up expression. It was cute, no, it was in so many ways that he can't describe it. You were breath taking, now and at any other time of the day, every position and anything you might do from any angle. He wanted to fuck you and see more. He was so close on pushing Gojo away and fuck you the way you deserve it.
Gojo didn't looked happy at the way his friend kept your attention all to himself. "Say my name." it was a beg, it was a request. It sounded like anything but demanding. He sounded needy. He needed to hear you praise him, tell him how good he makes you feel and move your hand in his hair.
"Look at me." Suguru kept demanding the same thing over and over again. It didn't matter who's name you said as long as you're only focused on him, right? That means he won.
However, you realized they're doing it again. That useless fighting. You don't want only one of them, you wanted both. A little bit of what they have to offer you. Whatever they wanted to show you, you'll accept it.
They acted like this ever since Nanami was there. They started acting like this out of jealousy.
You wanted to punish them somehow. It was for the useless things they're thinking about.
You opened your mouth, you wanted to say something, yet no word got out your mouth. What if you said another person name. Someone who's not in the room at the moment. Someone who's not usually here at all. Your eyes were sparkling thinking of ways of torturing them, Geto could see that. Those eyes that looked so lovingly now full of fireworks and that dumb smile you had on your face.
Think of him, look at him. Only see him. Say how much you wanted him. Him and him only. What made you full of life if it wasn't him?
You had to do it. You had to punish them for being selfish again. Yet you couldn't. No matter how much you would love to see their reactions, you knew you were digging your own grave. It's you in the end who will suffer for anything they might deserve.
What if you don't say anything at all? What if you keep your voice to yourself and not let them hear you at all. That's what the silent treatment is after all, no? And so you did, you bite your lower lip and put a hand over your mouth.
Geto could only laugh, thinking that you're afraid someone might hear you. No one besides them would hear a thing, he could reassure that. He moved your hand gently, hopping you'll understand him without a word needed. Yet you still refused to let out any kind of noise. "No one will hear you. So don't worry."
"I know." that's the only words you said. You knew and yet you still do it?
"Maybe it's because of you. Look the other way." Gojo said, his hands around your thighs dragging you closer to him.
"It's actually because of you." Geto said, getting more close to you. You didn't said anything. And this only gave them the wrong idea.
They were trying to imitate the enemy, so, maybe it was their clothes? Or maybe the blonde was still in your head and you were trying to think of him? It infuriats them. They only wants your attention, the way you looked at Nanami so curious, so full of questions. You don't look like that at them.
Gojo got up from between your legs and Geto dragged you up in his lap.
"Why you're being a bad girl? Hm?" Suguru's low voice purred into your ear, so close, it gave you chills.
"Are we not enough? What do you want more." you were sandwiched between them, your back pressed on Geto's chest while Gojo was in front of you, getting his body closer to you with each second passes. Your legs were wrapped around Satoru, mostly because he placed them like this, to make sure to have access to you as much as he could. While Suguru's arms were also wrapped around you, keeping you firmly against him, not letting you move an inch.
You still refused to say a thing even if you had no idea what they're talking about. You just got tired of their games, those stupid thoughts of theirs that made your head spin. You couldn't figure out what was going on with them, why were they like this. What made them like this.
"Say something." Satoru's voice had so many emotions in it. Rage, disappointment. Sadness? It was complicated, yet it made your pussy drip.
"Y/N, do you want to see me mad?" Suguru got one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. You were like a doll in their hands. Standing there without doing much. It was supposed to be your punishment for them, for fucking with your life like this when they could talk everything out. But now you want to back down. Mostly because you were feeling scared. Their eyes were scary, the roughness in their hands scared you. How they're squeezing places around your body so hard that it might leave a bruise, and how quiet they became.
Should you apologize? You had no idea. Was it too late to say something?
You opened your mouth, eyes on you for your next move. Yet you still didn't say a thing. You close your mouth and looked away. If they're getting on your nerves you'll definitely say someone else's name to piss them off.
Are you not allowed to get mad? Do you have no right to do so? They did it with their own hands. You can put them in place however you want, whenever you wanted. No, in fact, you'll give them some time to think about this, about how they act in general. Sure, you have no problem with them being themselves, you love it. But it was until some certain point where you would tolerate their behavior.
You put your palms on the bed trying to get up somehow. That action itself made them go feral in the worst way possible. Why are you doing this to them? Their hearts almost stopped working.
"Don't do this, come on." no matter how mad you might be, their pleas sounded like a sweet melody. It was the way they're melting in your arms. Satoru's voice sounded broken when he spoke. You're not even doing much, yet it affects them so much. Both of them were weak for you, you got them on their knees trying to get your attention. Of course they would get mad if another is trying to get in.
You didn't said anything, only looking at them, those big eyes again, it was like the first time you interacted with them. So curious about your surroundings. You looked up at Suguru, and then looked at Satoru, who were looking at you trying to figure out what in the world is going on in your head.
"Say something." Geto's voice was so soft, even if he was angry at you. His hand went lower on your body, caressing your soft skin, somehow hoping that you'll warm up. Maybe you wanted more of their attention? "It's your fault." Suguru looked at Gojo.
"Me? You were the one who was like, look at me. Maybe she got enough of your ass." Satoru tried to imitate Geto's voice.
"Me? It's you. You started this." you tried to not laugh. You can't give up yet, all you wanted was to hear them say that they're sorry, or anything that shows that they realized their mistake, nothing more. But they're refusing to believe it's their fault.
"Alright, stop." you sighed softly. "Think about what you both did." they're still thinking about how you might be seeing another, forgetting about them. Moving out of this place and leaving them to be as miserable as they used to be, all sad and not even happy to be back home, spend all their time outside just to forget about their loneliness.
How dare you play with their feelings? For once in their lifetime they're serious about something and you're just toying with them? Gojo got his hands on your hips, dragging your ass on him, positioning himself after he undid his belt. With a simple movement, his cock was out his pants. Now he was getting in front of your entrance, ready to get inside. Why did you looked surprise, huh. "Why don't you think about what you did?" he's trying to imitate your words, like you're the bad guy.
You gasped when he pushed himself inside you all the way in with a single move, if he could at least give you an warning. Geto got your face in his hand, making you look up at him. "Inside voice. Don't let a single word out." this was ridiculous. What were they even thinking?
You frown, you didn't know what to say or do. You had them in your palm, right? Why were they like this then? This wasn't your plan. All you wanted was for them to think about their actions.
You wanted both of them, you gave your time to both of them. It wasn't only one who received your attention, it was both. You didn't let a single one feel left out, and they still dare to think that you're selfish.
"Bad boys." you said out of breath, trying to degrade them somehow.
"Oh yeah?" Satoru could only laugh. "I can show you how bad I really am."
"Sweetie, you have no idea what you're talking about." Geto felt amused by your words. They were so considered of you until now, or they tried. Sure, it might have not work all the time since they forget halfway through that's not only about them. But they tried, no? It was improvement in a way or another.
Gojo's hands were gripping your hips, moving in and out. The friction was overwhelming. You wanted to change the position, it was uncomfortable. You don't know where to even look when they were squeezing you between them.
Your hands were shaking, you didn't know where to put them since both of them annoyed you. You wanted to keep them to yourself, yet you were dying to do something.
You closed your eyes, grabbing your own thighs and leaving red marks on them from your nails, being around them was so stressful.
You bite your lower lip, trying your best to stay put it place. A few tears went down your face, the way Gojo was fucking into you was just.. Just. You can't even say words. "Cry for me. Let me hear that voice." Satoru's face went to your shoulder, trying to rest against it.
"Keep that voice inside." Geto was trying to push Gojo away. Wanting to tournament you for a little longer.
"Don't listen to him." the white haired man was out of breath, voice so low that it gave you chills. "Open your eyes, look at me."
Suguru's hand went under your chin, raising it to make you look at him. "Look at me." his voice sounded so soft compared to his thoughts and actions. You kept your eyes closed, wanting only to focus on their voices, on how they breathe.
"Fuck." Gojo said out of breath. He bite into your shoulder, making you groan for a moment.
Then a sudden thought went through Geto's head. He could do something so funny right now, something that could help you feel better, or not. It all depends on your performance. So, his hand traveled to your pussy, rubbing your clit in small circles and making your walls squeeze Satoru's dick. Couldn't they just act like this and stop being fuckers?
Without even thinking, one of your hands went of Gojo's shoulder while the other grabbed Geto's arm. You were shaking, you were biting your lip and you were so close. Satoru could feel that, and Suguru realized what was going on by your actions, you look desperate only when your about to cum.
Now, this is where was the funny part, at least for Geto. He dragged his hand back, leaving you with less friction than before. But that only caught Gojo's attention who understood what was going on without a single word needed. So, now you were left all alone without any kind of pleasure or friction, since even the white haired guy got out of you, leaving you there panting heavily and trying to understand what was going on. This left a bad feeling in your stomach, it left you all confused and trying to regain your conscious, your brain couldn't work properly.
"Why do you look so disappointed?" they were mocking you, you could feel it by the tone of their voices.
"Were you close?" so painfully close. That would have been a good orgasm if they didn't stopped.
Suddenly, you woke up being turned around, ass in the air and face pressed against your blanket. "Up." Satoru moved in front of you, making you rest your body weight on your arms.
"Be a good girl and you might cum this time." Suguru was behind you, placing a slap on your ass before he pushed his cock inside you.
You could feel a hand behind your neck, dragging your face up to look at the white haired man. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips for a moment before he too pushed his dick inside your mouth. They loved stuffing you good, didn't they? The way you struggle to take them, and yet doing so good.
Maybe it was your fault too, for ending up like this. You knew you shouldn't have fucked around with them, but you always go back, asking for more and letting them do whatever they wanted with you. Plus, you feel so good, like, so so good. It was impossible to hold back around you.
That's why they keep pushing more of them inside of you, trying to make you take more. Because you, yourself are greedy for more. You always end up begging for more, so how could they not give you more?
"Relax." Suguru said as he kept feeling you clenching around him, making him groan as one of his hands was traveling around your body.
But how could you relax? You were so close, and knowing them, they might deny you again. You wanted to cum, you needed this orgasm and if they're edging you again you swear you will leave through that door and find somebody who will give you what you want. They seemed to enjoy this, so why couldn't you do as well?
Your hand went to the one behind you, dragging him closer and making sure he stays there. Just a little more, it was so close. You might as well start crying because of how it was feeling.
A thing that they loved more than edging you over your limits was seeing you cum. It was something about the way you look when you're all fucked up. So it wasn't surprising when they dropped everything they were doing and focused on you, because they too know this would be a big one.
You woke up with your face against the bed sheets, hands all over you once again and all kind of words being whispered in your ear, about how good you're doing. How you'll get a lot more after this, how they'll make you cum again and again, for as long as you want. Well, you both know that some of those were lies, because it was more about until when they want this to continue.
Your cries were satisfying, and they aren't even afraid to admit that. How you grip the sheets underneath you, or how you moved your hand on Satoru, holding into him as you came, leaving a big mess on the bed as your body juices came out.
They both looked at you, not believing what they just saw. "Did you just squirted?" the white haired man said, whistling at the view you're giving him.
"I'm sure she can do it again, can't she?" that was more than enough to know that it would be a long day. You doub you'll be able to get out of bed any time soon, and who knows, maybe it won't be as bad as you think.
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