#but thank you for taking the time to read it if you did 💖💖

[jaeminvore]

What you felt while reading the fic was literally me writing it lol I had to take a few breaks in between writing bc I'm that smitten by Chenle apparently ���� and you can imagine how Renjun was quick to tell Chenle all about y/n's ticketing dilemma like that dude is TIRED of witnessing... whatever that was between them lol and it's about goddamn time Chenle decided to do something about it!

And you know the girls will be having the time of their lives, and who knows? Maybe one of them would be lucky enough to brush hands with Sabrina 🙂‍↕️ as long as y/n's having fun, Chenle will be to cos that's his girl fr I'm pretty sure Sabrina came to my country once but I definitely did not hear about it and man... I could have been there..

Thank you for enjoying the read and sharing your thoughts on it hehe I really appreciate it! 🥹💖

Credit Card Baby | Z.CL

“Who do I gotta fuck for barricade tickets to Sabrina Carpenter around here?”

PAIRING: Chenle x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Four days, three broke girls, two possible outcomes, and one solution. What are you willing to sacrifice in exchange for a night seeing a long-awaited Juno pose five feet away from your eyeballs? Your dignity, probably because it just so happens that one (1) Chenle Zhong could be the solution to your current girl problem. Only, you don’t really do well with charity. Nothing in life was free and everything had a price, but Chenle likes to think differently—that he's simply helping a friend out. Like the many times he did before. There should be sugar-daddy-sugar-baby joke around here somewhere.

alternatively: ‘three dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactlyyyy’.’ — ‘A sugar-daddy (kinda) au with no age-gap, but with a financial gap that no one asked for’.

WORD COUNT: 15.5K

NOTE: first Chenle fic kinda nervous but also excited because I've been wanting to write for pookie for a loooong long while!! So I gathered all the remaining brain cells I have and came up with this hot garbage (affectionate). This is legitimately the most unserious piece of fiction I’ve written so far, so if you’re in the mood for some fun and entertainment centered around vibes n mild-horniness you’ve come to the right place! The title comes from a song with the same title which is funny to me because the song itself (Credit Card Baby by Wham!) is the complete opposite of the story I'm telling here LMAO

CONTENT TAGS & WARNINGS: mildly suggestive themes (as in, there's very little implication to sex and masturbation here if it bothers anybody. Just to put it out there so proceed with caution), crude jokes and language, crack treated seriously, comedy, college au, fluff, friends to a secret third thing, sugar daddy au (kinda), Chenle majors in business, MC majors in architecture, everyone yaps a lot... for some reason, Chenle’s also a micro-celebrity (streams and posts on TikTok), brief discussion of OnlyFans, but I am in no way encouraging it.

DISCLAIMER: none of this is meant to represent anyone in real life. This is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

According to an article you’d come across, an OnlyFans creator earned an average of one-hundred-eighty dollars a month. Multiply that four or five times, you’d have enough for one ticket.

“Alright,” you sighed, bringing your knees up as your eyes glued to what laid out in a neat pile right before you and the girls you lived with. “how much do we have all together?”

“Twenty-seven dollars and thirty cents. One banana flavored condom. Three sticks of gum—a chewed piece of gum, ew—a crumpled tissue and a… hairball.”

Jesus. This was getting ridiculous.

“Fantastic!” You clapped, looking at both girls with a wide smile and desperate eyes. “Anything else?”

“A maxed out credit card,” Minjeong sniffed as she threw the offending piece of useless plastic onto the pathetic pile. “That’s all we have to our names combined. We’re broke as shit.”

No, really. You had everything you needed for a flourishing career of flashing your nether regions to the world behind a paywall.

A laptop with a webcam. A pretty face. A small collection of toys. Very small. A pink two-in-one vibrating dildo the girls had gotten you as a gag gift for your birthday still in its packaging type of small. Vaguely resembling a swirly ice pop you’d get on a hot summer day, and you had lovingly named it ‘Pinky’ before it had gotten shoved into the depths of your drawer, never to be seen again.

Your imaginary audience probably wouldn't mind, right? So long as they’d get an eyeful of a pretty girl playing out starved men’s depraved fantasies.

Then again, the idea didn’t seem too hard in theory considering how far gooners were willing to throw a couple of dollars for a  five seconds long clip. They wouldn’t even notice the difference between an overexaggerated moan resembling a cat’s mating yowl and a genuine moan of pleasure, far too busy jerking it until their keyboards were dank from their own mess. You’d be earning enough to broaden your pathetic sex toy collection.

Simple-minded people were easy customers and you sure had no problems capitalizing off of that.

It was a good plan. A perfect long-term plan even, if it didn’t earn less than minimum wage and if you weren’t racing against time.

“This sucks,” Yizhuo whined, throwing her head back and staring forlornly at the ceiling. “Where the hell are we gonna get that kind of money in four days?”

Minjeong raised a groomed eyebrow. “Can’t you ask your parents? Say it’s an emergency or something.”

Yizhuo’s head lolled to the side, frowning at her. “They still have me cut off, remember?”

And the thought wasn’t just devastating to Yizhuo who, up until a few months ago, had been living the life of a spoiled princess with the world right in the palms of her dainty, never-worked-in-her-life hands. Naturally, being the closest to Yizhuo where you all were practically sisters, you and Minjeong were tangled up in the punishment as well. That meant leeching off of her and her unlimited access to her parents’ money was ineffective until she learned her lesson. 

After all, she was the reason why you and Minjeong had a roof above your head because apparently buying a house out-of-pocket was much more cost-efficient than renting, leaving you girls the responsibility of paying for groceries and sparing you just enough to spend for personal items. Yizhuo handled the rest as she had become somewhat of a sugar mommy.

“Apparently Daddy thought I was being very irresponsible with their money.” Yizhuo rolled her eyes. “Whatever that means—that I spend most of my time shopping rather than studying, which is so stupid when I already know the business like I know Daddy’s card details by heart! Why should I go to university when I’m set for life?”

She had gotten a job a week after spending what was left of her savings in a fit of panic. Lavishly, one could say, where the amount of clothes, bags, makeup and accessories had your eyes bugging out at the exorbitant prices printed on each receipt. Minjeong hadn’t been responsive all throughout. You didn’t think she was breathing either when she stared hard at a receipt from Prada.

Lucky for Yizhuo, Minjeong’s job at a thrift store had recently let go one of their former employees after her boss had caught them doing lines in the break room.

It was perfect for Yizhuo, low effort as she’d be manning the cashier and would occasionally keep the racks in stock. And best of all, she won’t be alone. She’d be with Minjeong which also came as a relief to you since it was a huge adjustment from not lifting a finger all her years on Earth thus far, to suddenly contributing enough to keep your mouths fed for at least twice a day.

“Wow,” Minjeong drawled, “your life must be so hard.”

“Ugh,” Yizhou groused, crossing her arms as she leaned against the foot of the couch with a moue reminding you of a spoiled child being told ‘no’. “You don’t even know.”

Judging by the look on Minjeong’s face, she was not having Yizhou’s tone-deafness in the slightest, and while you silently shared the sentiment—that the youngest of the household could have refrained from flaunting her privileged life, you didn’t want any casualties that could potentially turn into a court case. Because as sweet as Yizhuo was, she could be just as evil and vindictive to anyone that wronged her in some way.

“At least your parents let us keep the house,” you joked, patting Yizhuo’s knee with a smile. She at least appeared genuinely apologetic by the situation. “Any ideas on how we could get at least fifteen hundred dollars for three barricade tickets in”—you glanced at your calendar app—“four days?”

“Girl, you are asking for a goddamn miracle,” Minjeong sighed, “even Jesus took three days to resurrect.”

You nodded sagely and added, “took him six days to create the world,” which got a confused noise from Yizhuo.

“I thought it took seven?”

Minjeong shook her head. “No. He rested on the seventh day. Didn’t you go to Sunday School?”

“Not really. I barely lasted half a day.”

Well, all of you were definitely losing the plot here, quoting holy scripture, or whatever, but Minjeong was right; none of you were divine beings capable of pulling miracles out of your proverbial asses in time when the goddamn concert was in four days.

One could argue that you were given a long enough timeframe to save up for pre-sale, but when you had a friend like nepo-baby heiress Yizhuo Ning who had connections everywhere, it was guaranteed that you'll get the best seats at a concert of a big-named artist with her influence regardless of the limited time frame. Perhaps backstage passes if Yizhuo liked them enough. And she liked this one. A lot. She could never resist Sabrina Carpenter’s big blue eyes and bouncy blonde curls.

So, no. None of you had the forethought of pulling out the ‘Saving Up For A Concert For Dummies’ manual. Not when you had Yizhuo and her endless pockets full of hard cash to fall back onto.

Then she lost access (temporarily) to the Ning family vault, with barely anything saved up from her job because her spending problem wouldn’t vanish with just a snap of her father’s fingers, apparently. Now here you were: sitting in a circle on the plush, mauve, floral embossed carpeting that must have costed a fortune with crumpled dollar bills and junk you found deep in your purses like you were all trying out a crude summoning ritual for fat wads of cash.

Nothing could get worse than this. You’ve been through worse than this.

“We could sell feet pics?”

“Hell no. Feet freak me the fuck out,” Minjeong shivered.

You plucked the condom from the pile and lifted it up at face-level. “Would a used condom sell a lot to some weirdo freak out there?”

“Maybe,” Yizhuo replied the same time Minjeong said, in absolute disbelief that one of you would ever think of something so unhygienic, “I wouldn’t know, I’m a lesbian.”

“Yeah, no.” You wrinkled your nose. “You would not catch me pulling out a condom with some guy’s jizz in it from the trash. Ew.”

“How about a sugar daddy?”

“Eh. I’m not really into older men.”

“You saying you wouldn’t let the guy who played M-C-U Bucky Barnes hit?”

“Oh sure,” you said, sarcasm dripping thickly with each word that followed, “let me just hit up my buddy, my pal, Sebastian Stan on Instagram. Maybe I should call his phone number too! Y’know, the number that I don’t have.”

“Okay, sheesh. You don’t need to be so mean about it,” Minjeong mumbled.

“Oh! OnlyFans!” Yizhuo suggested with reverence as if she figured out how to attain world peace, earnest as her eyes rounded with excitement. “I’ve heard plenty of success stories. It can’t be too hard for any of us.”

A beat of silence, and then—

“Not it!” Minjeong exclaimed, touching the pad of her index finger to the tip of her nose.

“Not it!” came Yizhuo’s shrill voice a close second, copying Minjeong.

“Not it—fuck!” you wailed, half from being the sacrificial lamb and half because you smacked yourself in the fucking face from momentary panic which the girls didn’t seem to catch, too busy shrieking and hugging each other in relief. “No fair.”

“Oh, I think it’s plenty fair,” Minjeong shrugged, pressing her cheek against Yizhuo’s. “You were just slow.”

“And if anything, this’ll be easy for you!” Yizhuo cheered.

“Easy? okay—this“—you motioned wildly to your own body—“isn’t for the masses.”

Minjeong snorted. “Oh, sure. Tell that to the three guys you keep on rotation.”

“They’re just three guys. God forbid a girl has a healthy sex-life,” you whined. It was either wither away when you weren’t agonizing over your Architectural Design course—any of your courses, really—or fuck around with the guys you’ve met through mutual friends as your mode of relief.  “and why does it have to be me? I’m sure either of you could pull off being an O-F model.”

“One,” Minjeong raised a finger, “don’t ever call me that. Even if it’s in a hypothetical sense. And two, the thought of men being the majority of my audience unnerves me. I don’t think you could make it so only women could see me, so fuck that.”

“Fine. I’ll allow it.” You turned to Yizhuo with an expectant look. “What about you?”

She returned it with an unimpressed one, bordering on disbelief the longer you stared at her, waiting to say her piece.

“You’re kidding, right?” No, you were not. Was there a joke hidden in those three words forming a question? Not that you knew of, so you gestured for Yizhuo to get on with the program. “I’m like, the last person you should send to the wolves.”

“Why not?” You pouted. “You’re like, the most charismatic of us three. Got a pretty face too, if that wasn’t obvious enough.”

“Uh-huh, yeah—calling me pretty won’t change my mind,” Yizhuo said, firm and that meant she won’t tolerate any more of your pushing, yet the pretty blush tinting her cheeks told you enough that you almost got through her. “I’m an heiress to one of the largest Chinese conglomerates back home. How’d you think that would look for me?”

Bad, I’m guessing, and you knew this first-hand. 

There was an approximate six-thousand mile distance from where Yizhuo was brought up to where all three of you resided, yet that didn’t stop the Chinese media from getting their updates on how Yizhuo Ning was faring as an international college student.

You had a few run-ins with the paparazzi just dying to get dirt on Harbin’s sweetheart, fought with some too which had caused quite a buzz on both Weibo and Xiaohongshu when pictures of Yizhuo stumbling down the stairs of a frat house, looking drop-dead gorgeous were shared. No one could tell she was barely clinging onto sobriety. Or that she had already emptied her stomach twice in one of Sigma Chi’s bathrooms and a plant that surely had seen better days being under the care of jaunty frat boys who barely knew the concept of photosynthesis.

There was also a handful of you elbowing one of the paparazzi in the face when they had gotten too close. Your face, thankfully, had been blurred out. Same with Minjeong’s who had been trying her absolute damndest to keep you from getting aggravated assault charges while being tipsy herself.

If they had somehow caught wind of Yizhuo being involved in something so obscene—and you knew they would eventually—her life would be over. And yours. And Minjeong’s, because God forbid her parents might as well treat you as their own children with how often their darling daughter talked about you during their weekly check-up calls.

“And my parents would literally kill me if they found out their only daughter isn’t as virginal as they thought!”

“But you haven’t been a virgin since sophomore year.”

Yizhuo rolled her eyes. “They don’t know that, obviously.”

“And so that leaves me to be the breadwinner of this fucking household,” you said, heaving a conceding sigh. “God I hate you rich people.”

“I know you do. You say ‘eat the rich’ at least three times a day like it’s ‘grace’.” Yizhuo didn’t even sound remotely annoyed by your diss, basking in the relief of not taking your place and sacrificing her dignity. “It’s just until we get the tickets. Then you can be boring and gate-keep yourself until we have to slut you out again.”

“My body is a temple,” you said, feigning offense as you crossed your arms, cupping your breasts in a protective hold while Minjeong cackled. “Besides, OnlyFans might be easy on paper, but executing it? Four days won’t be enough. There are many factors involved and engagement won’t be that easy from how oversaturated it is. I’d be a no name. It’d probably take me months to get the amount we need and Miss ‘have you ever tried this one?’ would be in Europe by then.”

“And you did the math for that?”

“Only since we took all the shit out of our purses.”

“Right, because you always do the math for everything.”

“It’s a reflex.” You shrugged. You could even say it had been ingrained in you, haunted by the fact you almost failed Calculus I. You struggled less with it now, spending all summer drilling numerous Youtube tutorials into your brain and electing one of your classmates as your tutor. “How do you think we’ve survived this long without your parents’ money?”

Yizhuo shrugged. “Fair enough. Nerd.”

She gets a pillow to the face for that.

“Well,” you said with a clap. “If that’s all, I gotta go in”—you glanced at your watch and then panicked as you scrambled to get up—“five minutes ago. Fuck, I’m gonna be late!” The pop in your knees made you wince when getting on your two feet, making a bee-line towards your bedroom and stumbling over Minjeong’s thighs in the process.

“For a dick appointment?” 

“If you count AutoCad fucking up my chances for a four-point-oh, then sure.”

So maybe you had lied about the dick appointment, but in your defense, you actually had shit to do.

It just so happened Renjun also majored in Architecture, and that you shared all of your classes with him because if you were walking into five years of hell, you sure as hell weren’t going to suffer alone. You were simply hitting two birds with one stone.

If only those two hypothetical birds you hypothetically murdered coughed up fat wads of cash enough for three tickets, then you’d be set.

You let out a defeated sigh. “I need fifteen hundred bucks.”

Renjun, who just got back from a shower, blinked at the bold request.

“Say that again? You need how much?”

“Fifteen hundred bucks,” you repeated.

Renjun's face twisted as he stuck his pinky into his ear and wiggled it around. “I’m definitely hearing things ‘cause there’s no way.”

You rolled your neck to blankly stare at him. “I can say it again in Mandarin, if you want.”

“Please don’t,” Renjun shook his head, not minding that you were trying really hard to set him on fire with your eyes. “That’s like, using what I taught you for evil.”

“Well that’s too damn bad,” and you repeated what you said in near flawless Mandarin.

The conversation should have ended there. He just had the most underwhelming orgasm to-date due to whatever weird headspace you were in throughout your—ahem—session that made it less passionate and more robotic, but getting blue-balled was considerably worse than having to act as your last-minute financial adviser.

He simply could ignore anything that had just left your mouth when your attention was set onto the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling, but the unfortunate thing was that Renjun was nothing but indulgent at the moment. 

Dregs of lust in his brain prevented any of his usual no-nonsense approach and it certainly didn’t help that he could never say no to a girl—a pretty girl, no less—no matter how insufferable they were. Specifically you with his sheets wrapped around your still naked body. Renjun was still a man, and his IQ could still lose a few points if a girl so much looked his way.

Since you were both things, a girl and pretty, he calmly graced your dilemma with an answer.

“I can only give you orgasms, I’m afraid.” He said with a pout you knew was meant to be patronizing, mocking almost, especially with a detached lilt to his voice.

This wasn’t new to you as it was one of his methods to get under your skin. He knew you hated it, and you could definitely tell he’d prefer to discuss something else. Or nothing at all, but he had already poked the bear which meant he had to listen to you whinge until you either 1.) get it out of your system yourself or 2.) or he did something about it, and Renjun knew exactly the choice he made, yet that obviously didn’t work.

“What’s the fifteen hundred for anyway?” he conceded, barely tampering down the reluctance of circling back on your current financial struggles while rubbing his hair dry.

“Barricade tickets to Sabrina Carpenter,” you said shifting onto your side so you could face him properly. “VIP too if possible. For me, Ningning and Minjeong.”

He closed his eyes, jaw clenching. Saying other girls’ names post-coitus should be considered an act of violation or something, but he digressed.

“I thought Yizhuo got you tickets already?” His eyes snapped open to regard you with a lost look. “Before the whole cutting her off from her parents’ money fiasco?”

“Well, no one was really expecting her to go broke. She didn’t think it was a priority when she could just get the tickets last minute.”

“And since they took away access…”

“No money for us until further notice.”

Both of his eyebrows rose at the sheer ridiculousness of Yizhuo, self-proclaimed number one Sabrina shooter who could not go one day without singing Feather as much as her lungs could take, not being able to cop tickets. “The concert is in four days.”

“Oh don’t I know it.” When it rang like a giant alarm in your head, it was hard to not think about it. “I’m thinking of taking out a loan from my bank.”

“Absolutely not,” he snapped and tossed his damp towel onto your face. You shrieked and clawed it away because, ew, gross. “No way in hell are you going into debt because of a concert. Are you fucking crazy?”

“It’s not like I can ask someone to buy them for me either!” 

Renjun just barely resisted the urge to groan at the fact your persistent yapping almost ruined your then stellar bed chem.

“Like, who would be dumb enough to buy me a ticket? Let alone three?”

It’s surprising how you were able to come up with coherent sentences aftergetting your brains fucked out, but Renjun had always thought you were a weird one. Stamina on good days, yet a common cold could have you acting like you were knocking on death’s door.

“I’m sure I can name at least one person,” he said, thoughtful.

“Does this person have two-toned hair, perchance?” you wheedled, rolling onto your stomach to cup both of your cheeks with your hands looking like a flower in bloom for him. “Is his name Renjun Huang? A-K-A my favorite guy in the whole wide world?”

“You’re cute,” Renjun snorted, sitting on the foot of his bed. “But no.”

Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “You’re no fun.”

“There’s Jaemin,” he offered.

You grimaced. “Too needy.”

“Haechan?”

“Too mean.”

“And you still go to that asshole?” Renjun asked, incredulous. 

“He’s a good lay?” you offered, sheepish almost under the glare of his disbelief and the full force of his eyebrows. “C’mon, at least one ticket for your best girl?” you cooed, laying it on thick with a flutter of your eyelashes. “The other two can probably work something out.” 

Minjeong and Yizhuo were your girls. No one could ever doubt the love you had for them, being housemates for two years and counting, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It’s every man (well, woman) for themselves and if there was an opportunity right in front of you, might as well take it.

“Yeah…” he trailed off with a wince and you already didn’t like what he was about to say when he glimpsed at you and then at some random spot behind. “about that—“

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t,” you ground out.

Renjun pretended like he hadn't heard you. “Someone from the student association gave me a ticket.”

“And you’re going?” You hoped he wasn’t.

As if he read your mind, Renjun’s mouth parted in offense. “It’s Sabrina Carpenter. It’s a great opportunity to clout chase.”

Oh he was definitely going to be insufferable on Instagram, talking about it for days on end. Just like you would be.

“Seriously?” you exclaimed, both hands covering your face, muffling your scream. This felt way worse than the time you almost didn’t meet the deadline of a plate submission that made up a large chunk of your grade. “Is everyone and their goddamn moms going except me?”

“Guess so.”

You peeled your hands away to Renjun scrolling through his phone in mild interest.

“Can you at least pretend to feel sorry for me?” 

Renjun let his phone drop in between his crossed legs. “My condolences that you won’t get to see Sabrina do her Juno pose five feet away from you.”

“You’re the worst,” you groaned, sitting up and holding the blanket tightly to preserve your modesty. “I’m literally out of options and you’re already kickstarting the FOMO.”

“And what were your”—he waved absently to the air—“options exactly?”

“There was the OnlyFans route—and before you say anything else,” you gave Renjun a look that was sharp enough to make him think twice about his needling. He said nothing, thankfully, but his pursed lips and scrunched eyebrows said a lot. “yes, I did the math and we all agreed—surprisingly—that it would be impossible to earn that amount of money before the concert. Then Minjeong suggested a sugar daddy, but I’m not really up for being a geraitric’s pretty play-thing. What if he dies mid-sex—”

You got cut off from Renjun doubling over with laughter. “Sugar daddy? Why don’t you just ask Chenle then?”

“Why should I ask Chenle?”

“Why shouldn’t you ask Chenle?”

“That’s why I’m asking you,” you quipped back.

Renjun laughed again. A rich, belly-deep equal parts loud and grating. “You cannot be this dense,” he said as he calmed down. “I just mean—you guys are close, right? Close enough that he bought you a replacement T-square.” He watched you, amused, as you considered the question. Renjun can almost see the gears turning in your head, chin resting in his palm and using his leg to balance his elbow.

“It was an emergency,” you stressed with an eye-roll, though you didn’t exactly fight the fond smile settling on your lips at the memory of Chenle getting rung up for a new sixty-four-inch long acrylic T-square while you perused the rows upon rose of cute stationery. You hadn’t meant for your old one to snap cleanly in half, but when there was a guy who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and, well, there was a reason why the running joke of a T-square doubling as a weapon was still relevant to this day.

“Doesn’t he pay for you guys when you hang out?”

Renjun snorted. “Sure. If you count him demanding us to Venmo him later.”

“Huh. He usually just pays for us both.”

Actually, now that you’ve thought about it, his housemates hadn’t ever gotten the privilege of Chenle covering for any of their expenses, much less a cheap meal from a well loved hole-in-the-wall restaurant. You didn’t think it was favoritism either. Was that a thing in friendships too? You had no idea, and you never had to ask when Chenle never thought twice to remind the waiter or waitress that he was paying for two. For me and her—he would nod his head towards you—only and leave the rest to settle their shared bill among themselves.

“Huh.” you repeated.

“Yeah-huh,” Renjun echoed with one corner of his mouth lifted up in a smirk. “Seriously, if you’re that desperate to see Sabrina up close, I’m sure he can work something out for you. What’s fifteen hundred gonna do?”

You both knew the answer to that. Nothing, because although Chenle wasn’t as high profile as Yizhuo and her family was, you had a vague idea on how deep his pockets ran if he barely spared a glance at his receipt from Gucci for a track-suit set he’d been meaning to get. He might as well have slapped you in the face with a thick stack of one-hundreds.

It would have invoked the same feeling of being too poor to even breathe inside the store and it had been a relief you thought of dressing up that day too despite the fact you’ve pulled an all-nighter to complete a handful of plates for design class the night before. You were at least spared from any judgment from the sales reps.

Still.

Renjun clicked his tongue, sensing your mental turmoil. “Just ask him. If he says no, then there’s your answer.”

Just ask him. Easy for Renjun to suggest when he wasn’t the one stewing away in a puddle of anxiety. He already had a ticket! Of course he’d think nothing of it. 

Walking into Yizhuo’s obscenely large living room, you were once again reminded how excessive it was.

There was a grand piano in there, for fuck’s sake, in the far end after the actual living area with the plush seating, yet none of you could play any elaborate musical pieces except for Twinkle Twinkle Litter Star. Right next to it was a sunken conversation pit with a modern fireplace built into the large concrete column and there were a series of floor-to-ceiling windows and glass sliding doors encompassing the pit.

Other than overlooking the luscious, grassy backyard, the doors led straight to the deck where a round pool resided as its main attraction. There was a goddamn fountain just beside it, too. Who needs a fucking fountain in this economy anyway?

Actually, everything about the house was ridiculously extravagant for three college girls to live in. Your bedroom included. Yizhuo ended up giving you one of the bigger rooms and you were sure the drafting table you bought off of a grad student for cheap would do its job and cramp it up, but you knew the saying about gift horses and Mom raised you better than complaining about convenience being handed to you on a silver platter.

The round floor table of the conversation pit was vacant, though there were scattered papers, notebooks, textbooks and all sorts of pens on top of the reflective glass surface. That meant either one of the girls was home. Or both, as Minjeong’s and Yizhuo’s voices grew louder by each step towards the kitchen.

“Guess who might have found a solution to our ticketing problem!”

You slid onto the cushioned seats of the breakfast nook—a breakfast nook, Jesus—right across from Minjeong sipping her to-go cup of thai milk tea. She wordlessly slid on towards you. You took a generous drag of the stuff.

“Actually, it was more of Renjun’s idea—which I am effectively stealing.”

Yizhuo, who was in the middle of plating a hefty amount of pad see ew, looked like she swallowed something toe-curlingly sour. “Oh so you were with Renjun-ge.”

An easy smile curled on your lips as you lifted a shoulder to shrug, sweetly batting your eyelashes. “What can I say? The guy gives good head—” (“I did not need to know that.”) “—anyways, my idea.”

“Mine was probably better.”

“Oh yeah?” you drawled, egging Yizhuo on. “Let’s hear it then.”

“Breaking into the thrift store and stealing everything from the cash register.”

“What?”

“She claimed if her parents found out about her crimes, they’d have to bail her out from prison and then restore her money privileges,” Minjeong glared at the youngest who simply whistled to Espresso as she carried on with the food. “Then I had to remind her of her reputation.”

“Good thing you did ‘cause that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve ever heard,” you said and you made sure it showed on your face as Yizhuo wilted underneath your tangible disappointment that she would even risk an integral part of her privileged life when she had used it as a counter-argument to the whole OnlyFans thing. “So we’re going with my solution to our broke-ness—Chenle Zhong.”

Yizhuo did not look pleased whatsoever. “What does Caillou have to do with Sabrina Carpenter?”

You ignored Minjeong shrieking with laughter. “Chenle’s got money,” you said as if you were talking to a toddler barely getting a grasp on words having their designated meanings. “And do you know what we need to get tickets? Money, and Chenle has a lot of it.”

“It took Renjun for you to realize that Chenle could be our solution?” Yizhuo exclaimed in disbelief, head in her hands. “Oh my God—it took Renjun telling you, then you telling us that he could be our solution? How could I’ve been so stupid?”

Her head jerked upwards, ponytail swishing along and gave you a look so sharp and abrupt that you jerked in surprise. You fixed your posture so fast that your grandmother would have been proud. For once. “You’re definitely asking Chenle.”

“Uh—first of all, why me? Don’t rich people have, like, some sort of kinship with one another? Like, hey, can I borrow ten-thousand dollars? I’ll pay you back with five-percent interest.” That definitely wasn’t how deals between rich people were made, but whatever. “Second, why not you, money bags?”

“He’ll never say yes to me,” she said brusquely, clicking her tongue. “I kicked his ass a bunch of times in PUBG and he’s still bitter about it. It’s not my fault he sucks absolute balls. There’s like, a compilation of him complaining on stream about how I was cheating”—Yizhuo made air quotations—“on TikTok. It’s so funny. Actually, I’ll send you the link—”

You turned your gaze towards Minjeong for help, eyes widened a fraction for an added pathetic flair as the younger one focused on scrolling through the damn app.

“Don’t look at me. Chenle’s just cheap with everyone—actually, maybe except for you,” Minjeong pointed a long, black almond tipped nail in your direction. “the favorite.”

“You say it like it’s an insult.” You slurped your milk tea at an obnoxious volume, shrinking in your seat. “Maybe he’s just nicer to me because I’m nice to him unlike you two.”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Minjeong said, eyeing you curiously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She moved her gaze elsewhere. “Nothing.”

You squinted. “Uh-huh.”

“Anyways,” she said, pointedly keeping her gaze forward. “He started it. I asked him if I could borrow money for my Lyft and he laughed in my face.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing too because, yeah, the image was a little funny. “You’re exaggerating,” you said evenly.

Yizhuo made a half-wince, half-smile sorta thing with her face. “Are we though?”

“Lele’s not that much of an asshole,” you defended. “He drives me home. You could have hitched a ride with us is all I’m saying. And if I can remember correctly, he still gave you more than enough for your Lyft.”

“He didn’t have to laugh at me, then.” Minjeong looked like she was heavily debating whether she should smack you upside the head, or not. “For someone smart, you’re real stupid.”

You frowned. “Hey.”

The argument still carried on deep in your weekly ‘everything shower’.

“Face it, babe. He’s like your personal A-T-M.”

“Chenle doesn’t always get me things.”

You were aching in places you never knew existed as you passed the foamy loofah over your skin, yet the girls had denounced what it meant to have boundaries, making themselves at home in your bathroom to prove their joint points.

Yizhuo scoffed from where she sat on top of the closed lid of the toilet. “The shampoo you used earlier? That was imported from Japan.”

“So? He noticed I ran out the last time he was here. It’s just shampoo.”

“From Japan,” Yizhuo countered.

You pulled a face. “Is that supposed to mean anything? It’s fucking shampoo.”

She just threw her hands up in the air, visibly annoyed.

“And the body wash you’re using? From Chenle.” Minjeong piped up from the separated bathtub, pointed at the towels hanging on the towel warmer and added, “The bath towel set? Chenle.”

“Alright, fine, maybe—”

“The year’s supply of assorted sheet masks in the fridge we use?” she offered.

“The gargantuan tin of tea leaves you’ve mentioned you liked.”

“Okay. I get it—”

“A new backpack because your old one ripped at the seams.”

“Your underwear—”

“Hah!” You pointed triumphantly in Minjeong’s direction. “No, he hasn’t bought me any.”

“Not yet,” girl-in-bathtub emphasized, resting her chin on top of her arm propped on the tub’s edge. “Shit, he probably bought everything you own.”

“Okay, now you’re definitely exaggerating.” You snorted, walking into the spray of the shower to rinse off the suds. “I’m not that broke.”

“Should I also mention that if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have met us? Or that you would have been homeless?” Well, yeah, and you would have figured something out eventually, but you weren’t expecting Yizhuo to bring that up to one-up you in an argument.

“I can’t believe you would use the ‘you would’ve been homeless if it weren’t for me’ card against me.”

“If it weren’t for Chenle, you mean,” she corrected, propping her cheek on top of her bent knee. You glared at the needless addition, though the usual effect wasn’t as strong with warm water sluicing down your face. To Yizhuo, you were definitely doing an almost perfect rendition of ‘wet cat’. “You can’t be this stupid. You’re literally his favorite. I doubt there’s another guy out there that would willingly—again, listen—willingly spend money on you.”

“Does Jaemin buying me a pack of gum the other day count?”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re hopeless.”

Minjeong shrugged. “Maybe he was lowkey telling you your breath stinks.” (“Ex-fucking-scuse you?”) “Didn’t Chenle buy you a ring that looked like a bent nail?”

“As a gift, yeah?” Your wince was immediate the moment Yizhuo gasped at your confirmation.

“That was Cartier!” She whipped out her phone from fuck knows where and showed you the website and its price. Did she have that tab open all this time just for a ‘gotcha!’ moment? Jeez, she scared you sometimes. “Look—Juste un Clou ring. Classic model. I would’ve given you rose gold, personally, but the white gold looks pretty too,” she mumbled, nodding approvingly. “He knows his stuff, at least.”

“Viola!” You turned to Minjeong making jazz hands with flourish. “If he can blow three grand on you without blinking, fifteen hundred would be nothing.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rinsing the loofah free from the suds. “How sure are we that there are any tickets left? Last I heard, three nights sold out.”

“It’s Chenle. He has connections everywhere. He’ll probably end up tracking scalpers too if he could help it.” She weighed her own words for a moment. “As long as you’re the one asking.”

“If you say so,” you trailed off, still not entirely convinced even by her radiating certainty.

“Uh-oh.” Yizhuo promptly sat up. “That’s not good. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just—I feel kinda weird. Asking him. Like, I’ve never really had to ask him for… stuff before.”

“What,” the girls said in a way so dry that you most likely would have broken out in sweat with how serious their faces were right now. Thunderous even.

“What do you mean by ‘not having to ask him’?” Minjeong asked, deathly calm.

“Just as I said. He just does it on his own. Without me telling him.”

In hindsight, Chenle might have been an option right from the very start if the thought of simply asking for help financially didn’t bother you in the slightest, but that’s the thing. The idea did bother you to your very core because, again, it wasn’t like you were broke. A victim to capitalism? Absolutely.

Once you broke the news to your parents and brother about your acceptance to one of the top universities in the state on a full-ride scholarship, they had insisted on a monthly allowance. They hadn’t minded extending a helping hand at all, and it was the least they could do to lighten the burden with the condition that you should be devoted to your academics.

Consequently, you were also good with multi-tasking, so you’ve managed a healthy work-play balance so far. What your parents and brother didn’t know wont hurt them and you hadn’t given them a reason to not trust you on your own, miles away from home, either. Not yet at least.

Deciding for a part-time job was after the realization that majoring in architecture was a bit heavy on the pockets from the consistent need for materials and printing out your designs brought to life by the handful of software provided by your department. The café pay was decent, you were tipped just as okay, and you wouldn’t say no to some cash on the side. Adding that to the remnants of your monthly allowance, it was enough to buy a thing or two at the end of the month as a treat.

And then came Chenle, guns ablazing, with no qualms swiping his card on your behalf.

You never really had to ask him.

Literally.

He would already have it taken care of before you could even pluck your wallet out and split the cost. You couldn’t remember if you had a time where you outright asked (begged) him for a few bills, and if you did, you always always promised to pay him back.

That being said, Chenle wouldn’t let you fight him on it either. When his mind was already made up, it was like talking to a brick wall, standing tall and impervious to almost everything. A losing battle when you’re up against someone headstrong yet so goddamn stubborn.

That’s where your hesitation had stemmed from, because it could either go two ways: he could say no and you could kiss your chances of brushing hands with Sabrina Carpenter goodbye, which would be the best case scenario, or he’d say yes, and once he said yes, there was no turning back. A yes from Chenle was law—signed and sealed that not even expressing the preconceived regret of asking a favor would shake him.

This was entirely different from Chenle just doing whatever the fuck he wanted with his own money without any of your persuasion. You never had to ask him for anything before and the fact of the matter was, you were damn terrified of asking if Chenle could be a bro one last time and drop what was equivalent to the price of a newly released iPhone for you.

Asking him would literally be so detrimental to your conscience that you would probably go insane with guilt and you couldn’t afford getting thrown into the nearest psych-ward when you had tons of deadlines to meet.

Minjeong leaned back to stare forlornly at the ceiling. “Lord, I see the luck you’ve bestowed upon this girl so stupid.”

“Hey!” You whined.

“Congratulations on getting a sugar daddy,” Yizhuo said, dry. “Can you ask him for tickets now?”

Oh God, you thought with abject horror. What if Chenle is my sugar daddy?

Technically speaking, though, you both fit the description. Minus the ‘sugar’ part so, quasi-sugar-daddy then?

Okay, no. That’s definitely not a can of worms you’re gonna open, like, ever. Chenle just happened to be there whenever you had to go out and buy shit. Just happened to be faster whipping out his wallet than you were. After all, he’s the spry athlete while you were five cans of Monster Energy away from keeling over.

What you’d like to get into now was how this conversation developed backwards where you had to be naked and wet to get some sort of pep-talk. Was this even considered pep-talk? This was somebody else’s form of nightmare for sure.

“This is really weird,” you said, neither confirming or denying Yizhuo’s so-called congratulations as you glanced between the two girls unabashedly staring at you in your birthday suit, expecting. “Can you guys leave?”

“Nothing we’ve seen before.” You met Minjeong’s eyes for a second before they strayed to your naked breasts and back up again. “Bet Chenle would love to see you right now.”

For whatever reason, Yizhuo mirrored Minjeong’s sentiments as she bobbed her head so fast you would think the idea was exciting for her. “Only right for you to give him some sugar, too.” 

“Or—get this—I don’t do that?”

“Why not?” Minjeong frowned. “You fuck anything that moves.”

“Correction: I do not. I’ve only been with, like, five guys my entire life,” you said, brandishing one hand so they would get the picture. “And Chenle’s my friend! We’re like this”—you crossed your fingers, shaking them for emphasis—“tight, y’know? Literally everything’ll change if I go… do that.”

“You and Renjun are also”—she copied your crossed fingers—“like this, but you’re still fucking.”

“Well… that’s—that’s obviously different! He doesn’t count!” you said with each word increasing in pitch.

“Oh pray tell why you wouldn’t sleep with Chenle Zhong,” Minjeong goaded. “I may not like guys, but looking at him through an objective lens, he’s one of the good ones.”

“There’s no risk with Renjun because it’s strictly casual and platonic, and I know I wouldn’t get attached and develop—” you quickly clamped your mouth shut. Shit. “Uh—um—you’re breaking up,” you blurted, closing your eyes as you stepped into the heavy downpour of the rainfall shower. “I can’t hear you,” you said, though that likely sounded like incoherent blubbering. You were sure you’ve got your point across with that piss-poor save anyway.

“We can literally see you.”

You turned your back to them. They could talk to your ass if they wanted. Out of sight, out of mind. “Not anymore, you don’t.”

You hoped that was the end of it, though it was made clear time and time again that the girls weren’t satisfied with your hedging. A growl was heard, followed by the quick plap plap plap of feet against the cold tiles. As the glass door squeaked, the brief water prison you’ve enclosed yourself in stopped soon after and you opened your eyes to a hand retracting from one of the knobs.

There was barely a second for you to complain before an undignified yelp was forced out from your throat when you were spun around to find Yizhuo’s dour face, her hands clamping down on your shoulders.

“You’re just admitting this to us now?” she said, incredulous, and a little surprised that you’ve managed to keep a crucial detail from them for this long. 

“It wasn’t like an immediate thing I needed to resolve!” you argued, “but the thought was always there, I guess. Just sitting in the back of my mind until you brought up sex with Chenle. And I’m busy, in case it wasn’t obvious enough to you non-architecture majors. Never had the chance to explore it, y’know?”

Busy was the biggest understatement of the year. Your life revolved around sketching, drafting, rendering—hell, even printing your designs on sheets of paper almost (more or less) half your height had never been this stressful. Adding a part-time job to that? It was a miracle you were still kicking.

With all that combined, you didn’t have the time to give a damn about relationships running deeper than casual, less emotionally charged flings. Those were easier to manage without the messiness of feelings involved. 

“Well, Dora the Explorer,” Yizhuo tendered as she handed you your heated towel. “you better start explorin’ because you’re gonna fuck him either way.”

You swiped the towel from her. “No I’m not.”

“No you’re not,” Yizhuo agreed, and maybe the shrewd glint in those beady eyes of hers was only your imagination, toweling yourself dry and wrapping it around you once you were less damp. “but at least keep it as your trump card if he gets difficult—which I’d doubt, really.”

“You guys’re that confident he’d say yes?” you mused, pushing past Yizhuo to grab the other towel for your head. “It’s gonna be so embarrassing if he says otherwise.”

“To the tickets? Or the sex?” Minjeong then heaved a dramatic gasp, eyes wide as her voice dropped to a staged whisper. “Or worse, your alleged feelings.”

You puffed out your cheeks, ignoring the rush of warmth blooming onto your face. “Now I’m hoping he says ‘no’.”

“Oh, girl, trust me when I say ‘no’ is the last thing he’ll say to you.” Yizhuo said, looking very sure of herself. “So. How soon can you get to him?”

“God I hate you rich people.”

Yizhuo beamed. “I know.”

Well, it wasn’t like you were a stranger to testing your luck.

You: wyd

Lele: ? Lele: I’m not one of your groupies Lele: need something?

You: wanna get groceries with me? :D

Lele: be there in 15 Lele: need to grab Daegal’s kibble too

You: ur the best ✨✨

Lele: i know i am

You: girl whatever.

Lele: ❤️

“You know, when you said groceries, I was expecting personal stuff—like skincare or some shit,” Chenle said loftily. “Pads? Tampons? God forbid a menstrual cup—“

“How do you even know what a cup is,” you muttered. “and my period ended a week ago.”

“I know.” You looked up from your work to Chenle squinting down at his phone. He caught your eye and beamed, pocketing the device. You were too afraid to ask what that was about. “We could have gone to Sephora after.”

Oh you definitely could have if you had been more specific with what groceries meant, but you simply said to take both your asses to the nearest H Mart. Cute as the thought was, you weren’t exactly in the mood to watch Chenle try and figure out which products were on your current rotation. It would have made good content for him though, a sure hit for his predominantly female fanbase, yet the looming three days left to secure tickets above your head kept you from suggesting that.

“Well, I can’t exactly cook you a five-star meal with hyaluronic acid now can I?” 

He blinked and answered with a bland, “I have no idea what that is.”

You squinted at him, taking in the way he’s got his head tilted at an angle where the lighting hit one side of his pale face just right. No texture whatsoever, like a smooth, almost blank canvas marked by a singular mole on the cheek.

“‘Course you don’t,” you grunted, envious of his near perfect skin.

Chenle’s gaze slid towards the pot on the stove, then to his wooden chopping board where a humble spread of your additional ingredients had been neatly organized in small piles with two open noodle packets. “Also, that’s just your classic Shin ramyeon and some crab balls.”

“Well damn, Chenle, I’m no Gordon fucking Ramsay,” you snapped, swatting at his arm. “So ungrateful.” An elaborate recipe was out of the question when you were too busy panicking about how the hell you were going to pull this off.

(“The one thing you’re gonna ‘pull off’ is your top,” Yizhuo instructed as she followed you out the gargantuan front door. “You know how guys are with boobs. They’re like catnip for them.”

“Please don’t compare my tits to catnip.”)

He cackled, tucking himself into your side with an arm thrown around your shoulders in a side-hug. “Thank you,” he cooed, and like a cat, rubbed his head against yours. “You didn’t have to do all this, but I’d never say no to food.” You couldn’t exactly see his face like this, but you could hear his appreciation. Your heart squeezed at the press of his cheek against your temple.

See, it’s little moments in time like this were what jump-started the on-going betrayal you would never expect from your own beating heart, and Chenle made it extremely hard for you to not entertain any straying thoughts formed by the casual intimacy between you. It really didn’t help that Chenle was physically affectionate, and it especially didn’t help that you spent most of your time with him despite majoring in vastly different programs.

Starting the day with Chenle waiting in his car to take you to school, ending it with him driving you home and everything in between was a sure gateway for neutral feelings to gradually do a one-eighty. Reaching that level of comfort where you felt safe with him was just as inevitable, too. Chenle was safe. Always has been.

But for both of your sakes, it had been a conscious choice of burying yourself into your work—letting yourself get fucked over by the workload you had to do. The minor breakdowns you’ve had every time your calculations went wrong, or when color or material swatches didn’t seem to go together than you’d originally thought saved you from overthinking every single interaction with him.

You wouldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk it.

“What’s the occasion?” Chenle prodded. Still there. Still close. Still trying his hardest to weld himself to your side that he would soon figure out something was up the moment you went stiff in his hold, but you were just as quick coming up with some bullshit excuse to save your own ass. Though it begged the question whether it will hold up against Chenle’s incessant need to stick his nose into anyone’s business.

The longer he stayed quiet, the more your nerves fried. His house—house because Chenle was a loose cannon with money like Yizhuo—was always set to a cool temperature and you wore an outfit that wasn’t meant to cover up much at all, yet you could feel yourself break into sweat the moment he pulled himself away from your space. You still stood there frozen and the pot was taking too long to fucking boil.

“No occasion!” you exclaimed, spinning on your heel to face him with the sweetest and most disarming smile you could muster at the moment. A drop of sweat trickled from your temple down to your cheek when all Chenle did was wrinkle his nose as he took a step back. “‘was just in the mood to cook… something. For you—uh, for us. I was craving ramyeon.”

“You were craving Shin ramyeon,” Chenle echoed, not looking at all convinced. “Shin ramyeon that Yizhuo has stocked in her pantry.”

“That’s why I asked you to get groceries with me,” you replied in haste. “We were running out.” 

Which wasn’t a lie. Technically.

The three of you used to gorge on whatever there was in the kitchen, fridge or pantry, or DoorDash when any of you craved something specific. Key words were ‘used to’ because snack options had been limited to cheaper alternatives and what was cheaper and filling than a packet of noodles that took less than five minutes to cook? Really, it was like you were back in your freshman dorm, living off of instant noodles.

“Running out.” The more Chenle repeated whatever you said, the more you started to realize how deep of a grave you had dug for yourself. “You bought just enough for two people to eat.”

“Right.” You drawled, snapping your fingers and hitting him with the finger-guns. Might as well make yourself look even more like a jackass than you already are with the dogshit lying. “Right—so no plans later? I could use another H Mart run.”

Chenle cracked this time. “You’re a shitty liar,” your name tapered off into laughter. “You want something, don’t you? You’re never this nice to me.” He simpered with a certain type of fondness you’d usually see in people witnessing a puppy scaring itself with its own bark—he should really stop that. You were already kind of a mess from the way he’d freely insert himself in your bubble like he owned the space. You didn’t need the ooey-gooey, cavity-inducing stares to go with that too.

This was all clearly very amusing to him—you stumbling over your own words picked out from throwing darts at random in an attempt to gaslight him. He shouldn’t find any humor in this, really, but Chenle had always been chill like that. Marching to the beat of his own drum or however the saying went that the ease of falling into character, the jester to his court, wasn’t surprising.

If it made him that happy, then you’d continue shaking your fool’s cap for him. As a friend, of course.

“What? Me?” you said, guileless and with a hand flat on your sternum, eyes rounded with that faux gleam of innocence for the full effect. “I have never wanted anything in my life.”

“Anything?” he pressed and received a firm nod. “Not even barricade tickets to Sabrina Carpenter?”

You gaped at him, stuttering out words that weren’t even qualified to be in the English dictionary until you settled with a broken, “who told you that.”

Chenle smiled serenely in kind, not at all fazed by your brain blue-screening in real time. “Renjun.”

The mention of a name sobered you up in record speed.

“That snitching bitch,” you seethed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I only told him because I was hoping he'd help me think of options, or buy me a ticket himself. The girls could figure something out.” You paused, absorbing the situation as your hand fell back to your side. “Less work for me, though. I've been shitting my pants since, like, yesterday.”

“Yeah?”

You huffed a short laugh. “Oh yeah. There’s this theory going around—not that I believe it—that it’d be easy convincing you.”

“Easy,” he huffed, amused.

“Easy as in—I just have to ask you.”

Chenle tilted his head, considering you for a moment. “Alright. Ask away.”

You balked, grasping straws for a response.

“Ask away?” Nod. “Just like that.” Nod. “I’m not asking just for me, y’know? I’m also asking for Minjeong and Ningning. Since we’re broke and desperate girls who just happen to love the same singer.” Chenle only raised an eyebrow, slowly nodding in a way that said, ‘yeah. I know. What are you trying to say?’.

“Are you not worried how much it’s gonna cost you? Even just a little bit? I’m already feeling sick just thinking about it.” You grimaced.

“Not really, no.” He shrugged, slanting an easy smirk.

You pursed your lips. Right. Okay. So maybe you had severely underestimated how disposable money was to him, then. It didn’t seem like he minded at all, barely showing any negative emotion sans the boredom slowly coloring his features.

You, on the other hand, were already knee-deep in a bog of guilt and regret that you could honestly spit-up today’s lunch from how nerve-wracking this was; standing in front of him while carrying as much audacity a human being was allowed to and asking for something so expensive.

“You’re insane if you actually say yes. I don’t know about you, but if someone asked me for a thousand bucks and told me, ‘oh, bee-tee-dubs, I’m not gonna pay you back. Like ever.’, I’d consider suing the hell out of that person until they have to file for bankruptcy.”

“I mean, money’s never been an issue so I don’t see why my attorney should be involved.” The fact that he actually has an attorney (or a full-blown legal team. You never know) at the ready did not bring you comfort in the slightest. Chenle still tried though. You could at least appreciate that. “I wanna circle back on your so-called theory, though.”

“Don’t look at me.” Both of your hands raised in defense. “I’m not the one who came up with the ‘I’m Chenle’s favorite’ theory. The girls did.”

“Did they?” And for some ungodly reason, he looked delighted by the claim. “Well, can’t say they’re wrong.”

“Chenle,” you warned with a tone so biting you would think it’d have him think twice with this blasé approach.

Though maybe there was something on your face that betrayed the annoyance you’ve vocalized when all Chenle did was smile genially as the syllables making up your name passed through his lips in smooth succession.

“I’m not a charity case,” you muttered, flexing your fingers then curling them into fists. You weren’t too sure if you were pleased hearing it from the source. That you were Chenle’s favorite, confirmed by the man himself. Whatever that meant, or more annoyed that he really couldn’t care less about the money he’d wasted on you because you were his favorite. “You know I don’t take charity as well as normal people would.”

“Why do you think I never let you argue?” He said cheekily. “It’s easier and faster that way. And it’s no big deal! Seriously,” Chenle emphasized quickly at the sight of your deepening frown.

“But it is to me! If there’s one thing I know, it’s that nothing is ever just free. People these days are always expecting something in return. Maybe not right away and what if you’re just letting me rack up enough debt so you could ask me for my soul, or something.”

Chenle snickered. “So this is an exchange, then. Your noodles for concert tickets. You drive a hard bargain,” he wondered with an impish quality to his words, giving you a once over. Twice. It made you a little self conscious, shifting from foot to foot the longer sharp, cat-like eyes passed over your form. “Is that why you’re dressed like that? In case your cooking didn’t make a good bribe—oh, sorry—exchange?”

“Like what, exactly?” You asked, a little offended that he wouldn’t completely fold—or at least crease—at the first bite of a dish that earned its Michelin stars back in Yizhuo’s kitchen. Or that your chosen outfit wasn’t creaming any pants.

“Didn’t you wear this exact outfit when you skipped class to meet with Haechan that one time?”

“It was a different top, I think.” A top that was just as fast to remove too, so you understood the confusion. “How do you even remember that?”

“I remember lots of things,” he clarified, closing the distance until you could make out the top notes of his five-dollars-per-spray perfume with each inhale. “Like how you dress differently whenever you meet with one of your guys.”

“Gee what a coincidence. I wonder why I’m dressed like I am about to meet with one of my guys while in your kitchen.”

This time it’s Chenle who got the surprise of a lifetime, eyes almost bugging out of his skull as those lips you had once imagined yourself kissing just to see how they’d give under the soft pressure parted in a delicate ‘o’. He was quick to recover though, with a sly uptick of his mouth replacing the initial shock of finding out that, yes, you’d probably sleep with him if it came to that.

“Didn’t think you’d be that desperate for tickets.” He’s closer now, too close for comfort that you backed into the edge of the kitchen counter. “Is that how you’re gonna repay me?”

“It’s charity work,” you answered blithely, emboldened by Chenle’s interest because, fuck, might as well. “Fuck knows if you’ve been getting your dick wet or not. I’d literally be doing you a favor.”

Chenle didn’t seem to take offense to that as he threw his head back in raucous laughter.

“Charity for charity.” He grinned. “Seems fair.”

And the words had never sounded sweeter until they came from Chenle’s mouth. You could already hear yourself screaming with the crowd filling up the arena, with your girlfriends who you absolutely did not resent for essentially pimping you out to the one guy who could arguably make your dreams come true—

“I’ll think about it.”

Both Minjeong and Yizhuo were dead to you.

“Think about—” you paused, taking steady breaths until you were calm enough to start talking again. “Chenle. Lele,” and out came the big guns, being sweet to him and using the cutesy nickname the girls from the Chinese Students and Scholars Association would croon to get at least five seconds of his attention. Watching that play out from the sidelines always left a sour aftertaste, how they all would go as far as touching him when they decided holding eye-contact wasn’t enough to fuel their delusions. 

You’ve soon come to realize that it was jealousy that caused your eye to twitch when Chenle’s capitalistic smile turned honeyed towards his junior. Because there wasn’t a day where you were short of his attention.

Perhaps the thought was a little unhealthy, but what if you said it was what you were used to? Can anyone fault you for being a little catty after that interaction?

Calling him Lele worked, you thought. Or so you hoped. You weren’t sure rendering him silent was a good thing, actually. Silence never bode well with larger-than-life Chenle Zhong whose entire personality was being loud, especially with eyes as expressive as his. Dark as shots of espresso you’ve brewed countlessly at work laced with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“The concert is in two fucking days! There’s no time to think—you know what? This was a bad idea. I don’t know how Ningning talked me into—” you shook your head, pressing the back of your hand to your cheek with a heavy sigh. “We can just eat the goddamn noodles and forget all this. I’ll just tell the girls they were wrong, and you said no—”

“Oh, no no no,” you would never admit to making such an undignified sound when Chenle pulled you back by his steady grip on your wrist. “you can’t make that offer and leave just like that, c’mon.” And he had the audacity to whine on top of it.

“Well that’s before I—what are you doing.”

“Making sure I am getting something out of this,” he murmured, crowding in on you further where all you could see right in front of you was Chenle, and whatever you could see over the slope of one hoodie-covered shoulder.

Which by all means wasn’t a lot to begin with, him being taller and broader than you. And Chenle wasn’t even super tall. You knew plenty of people that exceeded the one-hundred-and-eighty centimeter mark, like that Jisung kid who hung out with you both on occasion. Wasn’t even built like a brick shithouse like Jaemin and his friend, your on-and-off tutor, Jeno.

Yet the way he had you cornered, hands planted firmly on the polished quartz countertop boxing you in, kind of screwed with your perception—made him appear bigger than he actually was. Perhaps it was the intensity of his gaze, pinning you down with deep pools framed by gradually thinning rings of brown the longer this stare down went on.

Coupled with the heat radiating off of Chenle, from standing so much closer where it totally crossed the limits of what it meant to be platonic, something just as heated unfurled beneath your navel.

“What—whatever you want,” you stuttered, swallowing thickly when the soft material of his jacket brushed along the strip of skin left exposed by your cropped top.  

“Whatever I want?” Chenle’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he studied you. “Even outside of sex?”

It was really hard trying not to not stare at his mouth. “I think being your errand girl will get you your money’s worth than a regular pump n’ dump.”

“The mouth on you.” Chenle cracked a lipped smile, wide enough that a hint of teeth peeking between the soft rosebud pink of his lips. “‘My girl’ does have a nice ring to it.”

Warmth creeped up your neck. “You forgot the word ‘errand’.”

“I know what I said,” he murmured, coming in closer that the tip of his nose gently nudged yours. “Kiss me.”

Your breath hitched, eyes growing into saucers because kiss me could imply anything. Everything.

“What—“

“You said whatever I want,” Chenle pointed out. “and I want you to kiss me. Or I want to kiss you, actually. Real bad.”

Words, apparently, weren’t enough to prove how much Chenle could want something as simple as a kiss.

Slender fingers splayed themselves along your waist, just marveling that you’re allowing him to touch you like this—with reverence. Palms cooled by the counter and the calluses earned from years of basketball raised gooseflesh along your skin when dragging them along the expanse of your stomach. The dips of your waist again—like he couldn’t resist how softer you were there—your back, until one of Chenle’s hands settled beneath the curve of your spine, the other just shy under the side of your breast. 

Chenle was impossibly closer now and your body’s natural response was to arch into him and—oh, he’s hard. So hard—straining against the fly of his jeans pressed against your stomach, and you’ve barely done anything except letting him feel you up, leaving phantom brands of his touch along the way.

“Feel that?” Chenle said, voice low and gravely, delivered like it was a secret only you two should know. He pushed his hips further into yours causing him to groan quietly as you gasped, your hands laying flat on his chest to steady yourself. “You’re definitely getting your tickets if it’s the last thing I do.”

Somehow, out of everything Chenle said, that knocked the breath out of you. The utter conviction. How positive he was in his own right that he will get those tickets for you, one way or another.

Frankly, you couldn’t care less about them now, nor what you had to do in exchange for what was essentially overpriced pieces of paper. All you cared about was who you were getting them from: Chenle, his mouth just a couple of centimeters—all yours for the taking, how secure his hold was around you as if the mere thought of you drifting away any second unnerved him, and the fact that he wanted to kiss you.

Because maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t at all one-sided. Maybe what Minjeong and Yizhuo had been speculating held some substance that, yes, it wouldn’t be too hard if it was you appealing to Chenle’s sweeter side. Maybe the notion was that gratifying to your dwindling self-esteem because how could you deny his simple request? 

So with a breathy, almost breathless, “just—just shut the fuck up about the tickets for a second,” you cupped his face with both hands and yanked him down for a kiss.

Chenle’s kisses were syrupy-sweet, if not purposely drawn out as though he was savouring a once in a lifetime opportunity; uncertain if he’d ever get the chance again. The most surprising thing about kissing Chenle, other than the act itself, was the unhurried pace. So unlike the man you would see loping over with this restless energy ready to leave him bursting at the seams, harrying his friends (anyone, really) to play ball with him. 

It had been near impossible, forcing him to sit still when all Chenle knew was to keep on moving. Keeping close at his heels was a fixed workout you didn’t remember ever signing up for. It was only to your relief that he made sure to keep you right behind him. Beside him, rather. There wasn’t a time where Chenle would knowingly leave you behind and if that ever happened, he would always wait for you to catch up.

There was no rush, and maybe that was the point of it all. Chenle’s willingness to adjust for you with no terms and conditions applied, and you have yet to see him stop.

With each push and pull, worrying teeth on lips and a shallow press of a warm wet tongue, Chenle kissed you like he was a man starved, stumbling upon an oasis and letting himself drown after a drought lasting so long. He kept with the pace, not doing too much or too little, lips slotting together like perfect puzzle pieces. Sweet and deliberate, each movement holding intention. Chenle really wasn’t fucking around when admitting he wanted to kiss you.

You shared that want too. More than you had initially allowed yourself, but that was to be expected when you’ve basically repressed every not-so-platonic thought regarding Chenle for a long while. And you know what they said about bottling it all up.

It came bursting in a flurry rush of movement. From their tender cradling, your fingers reached up to curl into Chenle’s freshly dyed jet-black hair just as he mirrored your own growing need, lithe arms coiling around your torso as your mouths grew greedier by the second. A show of teeth pulled an airy moan out of you turned muffled the second he licked into your mouth.

From there, kissing just became a mere afterthought. Devolving into a carnal dance of tongues, lapping it all up to get your fill.

Chenle tasted just as sweet as he kissed before, like the lemon ginger candy he had stocked around his house, his car and sometimes you would catch him plucking a piece or two out of his pockets. And it was quickly becoming a problem where you just knew there was no coming back from this.

That nothing will ever be the same once you walk out of that door when all of this is over. You couldn’t go back, not when you’ve gotten a taste of what it was like swapping spit with the guy, the same guy who you had thought wasn’t worth the risk.

Fuck it, might as well risk everything, then. You’ve already kissed him, already bulldozed past that boundary you swore you would never cross. So long as Chenle wouldn’t mind a kiss, or two, or three—until he has to pry you off of him and say enough is enough, you’d let yourself crave the sensation of having his mouth give under yours.

Just like how you chased after the plushness of his lips with a meek whine when he drew back, grinning at the state he reduced you to—a needy little thing this high strung over a kiss.

Please. As if he didn’t pop a boner at the thought of kissing you.

Just as you were about to voice out the retort, one of his hands raised to cup your cheek. You leaned into the touch, feeling small under his thoughtful gaze as his thumb swiped over your kiss-swollen lips. You chased after that feeling, too, each drag winding the coil of your self-control tighter and tighter ‘til it snapped like you did, catching his thumb in between the edges of your teeth.

Chenle’s gaze darkened then, no traces of the playful glint you were used to seeing as he surged forward and kissed a searing path from the corner of your mouth, all the way up to the swell of your cheek. Then lower, and lower until the scrape of teeth under the hinge of your jaw made your knees buckle from the sensation with a gasp.

You gripped his hair tighter, though you made no move to pull him off. “That—this is more than just a kiss,” you lightly chided, voice shaky. “Greedy.”

“So what if I am?” He mumbled, mouthing his way down your neck. Your fingers left his hair and curled around his nape. “Want me to stop?”

Pulling him in further by his neck told him enough. The vibration of his pleased humming against where your pulse was at its strongest made you shiver. You could feel him smirk. Like a knife to your neck.

“Thought so.”

Staying true to his words, he didn't stop. Chenle latched onto your mouth again and you’ve quickly grown familiar with his rhythm. Only this time, his hands joined in the fray, seemingly needing more than just having you secured in his arms.

Though perhaps you bit off more you could chew. 

Like, yeah, getting fucked by Chenle wasn’t the most horrible idea you’ve had so far in your early twenties, but thinking about it was vastly different from actually doing it.

So you were definitely in your right to squeal when one of your best friend's wandering hands went up your skirt.

Chenle stilled and pulled back with his eyebrows knitted together. Your face was on fire, both from his bold move and the embarrassing sound you made.

“You okay?” He asked, the same hand that was under your skirt—right below your ass cheek—rubbing soothing circles. It was anything but soothing. When you’ve got thighs as sensitive as yours, the only thing Chenle was helping with was making you hornier.

If he moved his hand a little further up and a little further in, he would have felt just how soaked your panties were.

“I—uh—I’m not ready.”

He blinked. “My hand is literally up your skirt that’s barely covering your cute little butt,” he pointed out as his hands trailed higher and squeezed the plump flesh. “and you’re not ready.” Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy. Shit, maybe you were. And it’s his fault. He’s just as crazy for calling your ass cute to your face, too.

“I mean yeah, that’s nice and all—your hand is really warm, um—but I may or may not have been talking out of my ass about fucking you.”

Chenle snorted. “I dunno. Your outfit clearly screams ‘fuck me!’. Cute shirt, by the way.” A stray hand wedged itself under the tight fit of your tube-top, earning him a sharp intake of breath when his fingertips grazed the underside of your tit. His touch didn’t go further than that, hand simply splayed across your ribs. “If you can call it that.”

“You bought me this shirt, dumbass.”

“Even better,” he said, delighted by the thought. “Feeling cold?” Chenle wondered, almost in an innocent, offhanded manner you wouldn’t think much of if the twitching of his mouth slipped under your radar. You caught his leering stray south, too. Just what could he possibly be intrigued by when he was quite literally sharing your breathing space?

With eyebrows furrowed, you let your curiosity get the best of you, tracing his line of sight.

You should have stayed curious.

Better yet, you shouldn’t have acknowledged the change of his focal point because of course he’d take notice of your nipples poking against the soft material of your shirt; as if they were saying ‘hi’ to the man who had come so close to giving them some attention.

Chenle dissolved into a fit of cackles. You could only imagine how embarrassed you looked to him. Why were you even embarrassed? You chose to forgo a bra in hopes of distracting him with your boobs if all else failed.

“Yeah, yeah,” you acquiesced, keeping your chin up as you blindly reached for his hands. “Hands where I can see ‘em, pervert.”

Only, you don’t exactly take his hands off of you. This was like, casual touches here and there dialed up to an eleven, right? It wasn’t a foreign concept to you, being held by him. Being friends with him for this long and counting, hugs were a thing you were frequently subjected to, and Chenle loved those, so you did your due diligence of settling his hands on your hips as a pseudo form of it.

A peace offering, if you will, for cutting the closeness short and a little because you were starting to like the warmth emanating from a more intimate touch.

Seemingly pleased by your initiative, Chenle graced you with the sweetest of smiles, squeezing you. That got him a snort and a fond shake of your head, though the amusement dimmed into contemplation as you lingered on the silver padlock-shaped pendant hanging from the dainty chain of the same metal around Chenle’s neck, not knowing where to go from here.

Eventually, you found your voice. “That better be worth fifteen hundred bucks,” you joked because if there was one thing about you is that you had a knack for making light out of an emotionally charged situation.

“I’ve spent more on you before, and you're worth every single penny so far.”

That shouldn’t have flustered you. Really, it shouldn’t have you hot in the face when you weren’t sure if he meant the dig towards you unintentionally milking him of his fortune. But Chenle’s ease of letting weighted words spill from his mouth was the sure contender here, and to deliver the final blow was the charming grin that ensured you everything was going to be just fine. He’d make sure of it.

“That’s definitely something a sugar daddy would say,” you said with a wry curl of your mouth. “Are you my sugar daddy? Because I can’t remember the last time I had to pay for my shit when you’re around.”

There was one time you went out for a bagel on your own, though that didn’t seem like a big girl purchase compared to your ergonomic chair he had ordered from Amazon. The look he had given you when you told him you made do with the many dining chairs Yizhuo had around her huge glass dining table had been the funniest thing you had ever seen. Like stiff chairs having multiple uses was a foreign concept to him.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were mostly on your feet when you had to (by hand) draft floor plans and vignettes that took up almost the entire space of your choice of paper. And the chair was comfy. Good for your back too.

“It does look like that, huh?” Chenle laughed at that, shaking his head as he did so out of endearment because you just wouldn’t get it. “What if I just like taking care of you?”

Now wasn’t that an insane thing to say out loud? Granted that you could kind of see where he came from as he did save your sorry ass a bunch of times with either a tap or a swipe of his card, this was Chenle you were dealing with. The likelihood of him just pulling your leg under the guise of flattery was great and backing down that easy had never been your forte. No matter how sweet he was being about it.

You could count the serious conversations with him on both sets of your fingers and this regularly scheduled bout of psychological warfare won’t even count.

“You just want to get in my pants,” you accused with a defiant raise of your chin.

“You almost let me in your pants,” Chenle pointed out, his fingers gently grasping your chin so he could tilt your head back at its normal angle. “My hand was literally up your skirt and I heard no complaints until you got stage fright.”

“Fair,” you allowed with a shrug. “Still not gonna fuck you though. Not now at least.”

“Whatever you want,” he said softly as he bent down to catch your gaze. “and you know I won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

You hummed, thinking Chenle’s words over. “I’ll give it a few days until you’re on your hands and knees begging to stick just the tip in.”

Chenle’s smile wobbled then turned pained. “If I have to.”

It took three whole seconds for his admission to register in your brain before you sputtered a laugh, falling forward until his shoulder cushioned your forehead. No wonder you and Chenle worked so well. There was not a serious bone in any of your bodies and you wouldn't want to change it for the world.

“Down, boy,” you teased, still cackling as you nuzzled into his neck. “Who’s desperate now?”

He huffed. “Like you weren’t trying to eat my face moments ago.”

You pulled back with a pout. “I could say the same about you.” You poked him in the chest. “Were you actually trying to suck my soul out?”

“Regret anything yet?” Chenle’s question was posed as playful, but there was undertone of uncertainty to it too and over the years, you’ve gotten good at figuring out his tells. The uncharacteristic sudden stiffness in his frame, the way he chewed the inside of his cheek (subtly as he could) and the tightness around his eyes—he thought you did. Regret it, that is, but it was the farthest from what you were feeling right now.

“The only thing I regret is not seducing you sooner.” 

And that did it. Anything that fell in the same vein of uncertainty gave way to the radiance you were much more familiar with.

Chenle looked like an absolute winner—the cat that caught the canary and washed it down with cream in celebration of his win before diving in for his prize.

Until Daegal barked at the sound of jingling keys the moment your lips were a hair breadth away from touching, her excitement piercing through the bubble and granting you awareness from beyond it; namely the pot barely having any water being left on the burner for too long. 

There was a flash of white from your peripheral as you shared a panicked look with your qausi-sugar-daddy when the front door opened, followed by one of Chenle’s housemates, Beomgyu, announcing his arrival with a loud, “I’m home!”

“Shit,” you whispered and the two of you set into motion. Harried, if anything, yet still efficient with the swiftness Chenle displayed in fixing your clothes just as you smoothed stray strands of his hair back in place.

For a quick moment, he took a good look at you, a crease in the middle of his eyebrows before he was shucking off his hoodie and urging you to wear it.

“Didn’t take you for the protective type,” you teased, yet took it without question as Chenle rolled his eyes with a gentle shake of his head, watching you pull on the sleeves; a smile equal parts warm and mischievous playing on his lips.

With the zipper in place, you glanced at him then down to his very obvious problem beneath those denim jeans. “You gonna do something about”—Chenle’s eyes blew wide in alarm and stuck his hand in his pants—“yeah, okay,” you mumbled.

His smile widened into something annoying and you quickly pushed him towards the kitchen sink, a silent command to wash his hands once Beomgyu walked right into the kitchen, surprised that you were here. Daegal trotted closely behind, her tail wagging happily as you bent down to pick her up.

“We’re going to get groceries after some noodles,” Chenle answered the silent question for you while pouring water into the pot. “Want some?”

“I’m starving,” Beomgyu groaned. “I’ll eat anything.”

“Hope you’re excited for Shin ramyeon and crab balls, then.”

Over Beomgyu’s shoulder, Chenle winked at you and you nuzzled into Daegal’s fur, hiding your smile.

In the end, after letting Beomgyu devour most of your noodles, Chenle did take you out for another H Mart run.

“Are the two carts necessary?”

You didn’t think so. One full cart was pushing it, but two? For a second, you feared he might just buy out the whole store if you dared him. Then again, Chenle wasn’t familiar with the concept of limiting oneself and it seemed like it applied to you too. Well, in a way where he showed you it was okay to want things. That it was okay to ask him for things.

Because it’s Chenle who did most of the shopping. Fresh produce, different kinds of meat that didn’t need to be cooked in complicated ways for it to come out edible—namely the humble samgyeopsal. Quick, easy and absolutely delicious—he glossed over most of the condiments seeing you still had them at home, then he absolutely went insane when it came to the snacks, ice cream and, of course, packets of instant noodles.

Chenle had another pack of a different variant in his hands, tossed it into the snack-filled cart he was pushing around.

“You’re really playing into the sugar daddy thing,” you said as you mentally calculated the amount of debt you were in now with the addition of groceries that could last you and the girls the whole month.

“Better than you starving,” he said cheerfully, grabbing a dozen of Buldak Carbonara noodles and dumping them into the cart like a dad finding out their kid’s favorite snack. “Wouldn’t want you living off of shin ramyeon and crab balls.”

You scowled. “It wasn’t that funny.”

Chenle laughed and laughed and laughed anyway because your failed seduction plan was that hilarious if he was still making jokes about two-person groceries.

The drive home was quiet. Peaceful. Less awkward than you had initially expected when the soulful drone of music filled in the spaces with you sat in the passenger’s seat, reaching over to feed Chenle the Pepero you elected on sharing. When it all ran out, you relaxed in your seat and just… watched.

Watched your best friend in his element with his hand on the wheel while the other patted his thigh along the beat of the current song. He looked good. Unfairly so. With the lights glinting off the watch that likely made up your yearly university tuition and the high points of his face, the ruffled look of his hair and the way his jaw flexed every time he sang along the melody.

All this filled you with the urge to kiss him. Reach over and plant one on him and the thought still lingered even as you drove past the house’s gates opened with an app on your phone.

As Chenle helped put away the groceries while you pretended not to notice the leering from the peanut gallery.

As he helped himself to a Melona while keeping up with the verbal spat between him and Yizhuo munching on something yoghurt and blueberry flavoured.

It was all you could think about as you saw him out the door, and if you couldn’t help yourself and acted on it—a quick peck to the corner of Chenle’s plush mouth as thanks—leaving a sheen of your lipgloss, then that was between you, God and the security camera angled to where you stood.

Yizhuo wouldn’t notice if you deleted a few seconds of footage anyway.

Late into the night and you could still feel it. Feel him—the ghost of his kiss, his touch as everything that had transpired in the afternoon played on loop in your head.

You couldn’t sleep. Not when your mind was chanting Chenle Chenle Chenle like a mantra set to summon him. Like an itch you couldn’t get rid off no matter how hard you scratched.

If only…

That night, you decided to get well acquainted with Pinky, fishing her out deep within your drawer.

Mornings like this were rare, where all of you were awake at the same time. Even rarer that you were all up before ten, quiet. Relaxed.

No sense of urgency found on anyone’s person. No school, no jobs to clock into, no not-so-secret meetings—none of you girls had anything of priority today.

There was breakfast, arguably the most important meal of the day, though it seemed Minjeong and Yizhuo weren’t exactly in a rush demanding their eggs be cooked just the way they liked. Just fine with nursing a steaming cup of whatever energized them for the day ahead as they sat at the island counter.

Your phone chimed in the middle of cooking Yizhuo’s scrambled eggs. A text from Chenle—a sent photo to be specific and—

You screamed, nearly dropping the spatula.

fine shyt: [IMG_6969]

You: WWHAT THEBFUCJ

fine shyt: got your tickets 🤓

You: YEA I SEE THAT???????????

When you screen faded into Chenle’s caller ID, a photo of him holding up Daegal, Minjeong immediately took over the cooking as you rushed towards the living area.

“You got the tickets,” you said as you accepted the request to FaceTime, half in wonder and in disbelief that he was able to nab tickets in less than twenty-four hours and a day before the concert. You really should stop doubting Chenle and his ability (see: privilege) to get whatever, whenever. “Not that I doubted you, but the first night usually sells out quick—so how the hell.”

“You underestimate how far money can get you,” Chenle laughed. He looked sleep-ruffled, like he had just woken up. This was his cutest state yet and you really wished you were with him right now. “Think you’re ready to find out?”

“As I’ll ever be.” As long as he held your hand through it, sure. What the hell. You could survive future heart attacks caused by six figures by sheer will alone, you thought. “I asked for three tickets though. Who's the fourth one for?”

“Me,” he answered, beaming. “Someone has to drive you girls.”

“What? I mean—thanks.” That was one less thing to worry about then. “But since when do you listen to Sabrina?”

“Since last night. Still at it, by the way.” he clarified, a little too happy and if you listened closely, you could make out Sabrina’s crooning of Read your Mind on his end. “An enlightening experience, I might say.”

“Good luck on memorizing twenty-one songs then.”

“Oh, Princess. I released an album when I was eight. Memorizing the setlist is light work. Bet I could sing louder than you.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll grill you on the album thing next time because what the fuck.” The ‘Princess’ thing you elected to ignore, too early and dire to suffer an aneurysm when a concert was waiting for you.

“I’ve lived quite the life,” he mused (“oh I’m sure.”) combing his fingers through his hair. “So what do we say?”

You scoffed, fond and grateful for his generosity whether you were deserving or not. “Thank you.”

“Thank you what, baby?”

Your face twisted in horror, quickly clocking what he was trying to get you to do. “Bye Chenle.”

He was cackling when you hung up, your face on fire, yet you didn’t put in any effort to tamper the giddy grin threatening to split your face.

The tickets were yours. Chenle got the tickets and they were yours. Gosh, this was probably the best morning in your life so far and nothing could dampen your mood from doing your girls proud.

“Now do you believe us when we say you’re Chenle’s favorite?” Yizhuo asked with a mouthful of scrambled egg.

You laughed, cheeks aching from how hard you cheesed at a simple fact. “I’m starting to.”

And selfish as it sounded, you hoped that it would remain that way for a long time because you couldn’t remember a life so dull when Chenle walked in with colors so bright that it sung, and because he was your favorite, too.

a/n: waow you've reached the end! Here, have a cookie 🍪 as always, thank you soo so much for reading until the end! I'd like to thank the girls: Aria, Moon and Aeriel for letting me talk my shit about this fic and help with ideas! and yes, brainstorming with them is an almost daily occurrence and it's great mental exercise imo lol! I hope you had fun reading the chaos that was this fic. I know I had fun laughing to myself writing all this 😆 and please please please let me know your thoughts! Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @gojosmojodojo @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @learnthisfeeling @90s-belladonna @spacejip @ykvdani @drunkhee @neozon3nha @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @sunghoonsgfreal @champagne1221 @yuyita-rosier @grimlinshere @jvngw0n @nanaxwi @kissesfromdarling @peterm4rker @haechology @evergreeneyesx @bbina @nctseventeensworld (special thanks to those who asked to be part of the taglist!)

[mixolya]

HIIIIII 🫶🏻so I thought Yk how sae is bad at this whole PR thing and he’s just very straightforward and not many ppl like it cuz they think he’s rude😭. what if reader was his pr manger😍??? And she like gets pissed off quickly but also gets flustered and why quickly and sae is teasing or wtv

I was like i really wanna read sum like but since I follow lots of bllk writers I didn’t know who to send this 2 so then I thought “who writes sae the best?”then I thought def mixolya so here I am I’d really like it if u wrote this since ur work is really amazing 😭🫶🏻🫶🏻💖

ᓚᘏᗢ — sae itoshi: ice prince !

synopsis: sae itoshi has a pr problem. and you're paid to fix it. too bad he's also the reason you grind your teeth at night and blush like a schoolgirl on the job.

sae itoshi x manager!reader ⭑ fluff + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: thank you sm IM SO HONORED NOW HFUIJKVFKJKV ily

the headline blinks back at you like a neon sign from hell:

SAE ITOSHI: Football's ice prince strikes again - says he 'doesn't care' about fans

you slap your tablet shut. you don't even knock before storming into the training facility, scanning the rows of white training kits until you spot him; the menace in cleats, jogging casually down the sideline like he hasn't just detonated another pr landmine.

"sae!" you call twice after he didn't look the first time.

his head tilts lazily toward you. of course he heard you the first time. he just wanted to make sure you say his name again. you march over, fuming.

"you told the press you don't care about your fans."

"because i don't," he replies coolly, barely breaking stride.

you scoff. "you also said the interviewer's breath smelled like 'expired vanilla milkshake.' what even is that?"

he finally stops, water bottle in hand. "accurate."

"unbelievable," you mutter, rubbing your temples.

"you hired me for honesty, didn't you?"

"you were assigned to me because no one else could handle your media tantrums!"

he takes a sip of water, entirely unfazed. "i don't throw tantrums."

"no, you throw careers off cliffs. mine included."

his eyes finally land on you, sharp eyes meeting your glare. "you're still here though."

"unfortunately."

he quirks a brow. "so why stay?"

you freeze. that smug expression makes your stomach twist. it's always like this with sae, a constant tug-of-war where you're supposed to be the handler and he the genius. and yet here you are, red-faced, pulse racing, hands clenching your clipboard like it's the only thing keeping you grounded.

"why can't you just do as i say for once?" you mutter, spinning on your heel.

"cute."

you whirl back. "what?"

he shrugs. "you get all flustered. it's cute."

"you can't just say things like that to your pr manager!" you hiss.

sae's smile is barely there, but it is there. a rare sight, like a solar eclipse, beautiful yet terrifying, and liable to burn you if you look to long.

"maybe i can," he says softly, like it's a challenge.

⭑

you threaten to quit that night. you don't, of course. because the next morning, you wake up to a trending video of sae at practice gently helping a kid tie their cleats. the caption reads: "Maybe he's not so icy after all?"

you stare at your screen, stunned. was it intentional? and then a text pings from him.

sae: better? + attached photo of him with his bangs down

you stare. you're going to scream.

⭑

(two weeks later)

you're standing backstage at a sponsorship event, briefing him one last time before he goes live.

"no sarcasm," you say, ticking things off on your clipboard. "smile. thank the brand. don't call the ceo's shoes ugly."

"they are though."

"don't care."

he sighs. you glance up, only to realize he's already looking at you. not the room or the stage, you.

and his hair? bangs down.

you blink.

"you did it again," you said.

"what?"

"you put your bangs down."

he smirks. "why wouldn't i?"

"because you hate them."

"i don't hate them. i just didn't care."

"until now?"

he shrugs. "you like them."

you stare at him, chest tightening. and then he leans in just enough for only you to hear.

"by the way," he murmurs, voice low, "if i score in the next game.. i'll point to the camera, is that okay?."

your brows furrow. "do what you want."

"okay, i'll say it's for the 'cutest manager in the league.'"

you don't can't respond. you're frozen in place, clipboard limp at your side, face on fire. and he just walks away, grinning.

imagine he doesn't score

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[mariasont]

hiii! I read your last spencer one shot AND I LOVED IT! IT WAS SO SWEET AND YOU'RE SO TALENTED!! Would you write something about post prison reid and shy reader? I was thinking of her as the media liaison (in my mind she is old-fashioned in music and clothes I'd wear skirts everyday, her emotional intelligence makes her good at her job, despite her shyness). Maybe she's clumsy, especially when she gets nervous and more especially (I don't even know if that's grammatically correct) when she's around Spencer.

Thank you so much for reading this, you're doing an EXCELLENT job, your works are a masterpiece!! 💕💖💝💓💓💖💞💕💖💓

Make a Wish - S.R

a/n: eekkkkkk post-prison spencer reid has me in a CHOKEHOLD! thank you so much for requesting, i'm so sorry for the delay! i hope i did your request justice!! I LOVE LOVE YOU!

masterlist

pairings: post prison!spencer reid x shy!reader

wc: 0.9k

You had been meaning to give the reports fastened in your hands to Spencer for give-or-take two hours now. Each time you gathered the courage to approach him, just one glance, one simple stupid glance from those piercing eyes set your nerves on fire and sent your brain in overdrive.

As the new media liaison from the narcotics unit, you were warned about the BAU's intimidating figures, particularly Rossi and Emily. However, no warning came regarding Spencer Reid. They mentioned his tendencies for long-winded explanations and awkward social interactions but not the aura of intensity he exuded. Whenever he entered a room, you instinctively started looking for an exit, not because of his criminal record, but because you found yourself hopelessly mesmerized by him.

He was perfect in every sense of the word—brilliant, compassionate, selfless, and an exceptional agent. At least, this is what you had observed from afar. A part of you was scared that any real interaction with him would shatter the idyllic image you had crafted in your head, and you weren't confident you were prepared for such disillusionment. However, you needed to give him these damn papers, dreading the alternative, which was getting summoned to Emily's office.

"Hi."

You did it, okay, first step complete. You opened your mouth, determined to get out the next part you had practiced a little over twenty times in your head, but the words seemed to dissipate into a misty fog in your brain.

"Um, these are for you," you said, rocking back onto the balls of your mary janes, placing the report on his desk. "It's the Henderson lie detector test transcript?"

"Is it?"

You realized you had said it like a question.

You paused, the part of your brain stuttering for a second, trying to flip over the thousands of scenarios you had rehearsed in your head for this interaction. None of them had included those words.

Just a little off script and you felt your fight or flight kick in—nails digging into your palms as you avoided eye contact.

"Yes." A little more confident this time, not by much, and it quickly deflated as you second guessed yourself, stepping closer to peer over his shoulder at the document. "At least I think."

"I'm just messing with you, it is." He said, eyes flickering down to the document, then to you. "You okay?"

"M-Me? Okay? Yeah, of course." The words were stumbling out of your mouth at a rate that was hard to keep up with. "Do I not look okay?"

"No, of course you look okay," he responded, brows knitting together as his gaze traveled down your body, no doubt dissecting your every thought. "You just seem... a bit nervous."

You opened your mouth, aiming to articulate a coherent thought, but it fell short and was quickly interrupted by Spencer.

He suddenly leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, hold still; you have an eyelash."

He was so close, you swore you feel his breath on your cheeks, instantly warming them. Your body was in overdrive, trying to recalibrate as his finger grazed the area under your right eye. You closed your eyes, almost unwillingly, relishing in the unexpected touch.

This was weird. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, and you balled your hand into a fist, attempting to mask the way you were shaking.

The sound of your name snapped you out of your daze. Your eyes followed suit, meeting Spencer's prying eyes. His finger was raised, your eyelash perched on the tip. Your face could have been a furnace, flames of heat spreading from your neck to your nose.

"Do you want to make a wish?"

He looked at you expectantly, eyes darting from your face to his raised pointer finger.

"Okay."

You closed your eyes, forming the wish in your mind before blowing on the lash. You watched it float to the ground, settling gently on the toe of Spencer's shoe. 

"What did you wish for?"

"I feel like I'm not supposed to tell you that," you say, pulling at the ends of your hair.

He was undeniably good-looking. It wasn't like you were just realizing it; you had eyes and you were only human. But up close, you could see every detail—the dark circles under his eyes, the rough stubble under his jaw.

"I think you're right."

The sudden intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat. You stepped back, nodding at his words and also nothing in particular.

"Anyway, yeah, those are the papers—," you began, turning to walk away. As you did, you bumped your hip into the desk beside you, hissing under your breath in response.

"Christ, are you okay?" His hand was on your hip as the words came out of his mouth.

The touch only seemed to intensify your embarrassment. You stepped out of his grip, dropping your phone as you did which you quickly bent down to pick up.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, just forgot I have a meeting with Emily, so I'm just gonna—," you pointed towards her office, quickly making your escape from Spencer as you tried to catch your breath.

Once you were a distance you deemed safe enough, you allowed yourself a quick glance back at him. He was smirking, and you felt that all familiar heat rising into your chest once again.

You really hoped that wish would kick in soon.

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[ourdawnishotterthanourday]

RAW [M] — Lee Seokmin

✧ If you're a freak and you know it, clap them cheeks ✧

In which Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend, fucks you raw for the first time, and ends up discovering his kinky side.

✧ Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], established relationship ♥ Pairing: female!reader x boyfriend!Lee Seokmin ✧ Word count: 6.3k+ ✦ Warnings: nsfw warnings under the cut! ✎ Notes: hope y'all enjoy this little seok fic I wrote for you 🤭 was feeling a little feral, so this concept fit my mood perfectly hehe ♕ Shout out:  thanks to my amazing bestie @whipped-for-kpop-fics for making me this masterpiece of a banner AND helping me brainstorm for this one. This one really couldn't have happened without you and your shrexy brain! I love youuuuu 💖 and thank you thank you thank you @wonuvs for beta-reading this for me!! Very much appreciated :3

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

nsfw warnings: outdoor/public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, spanking, raw sex (the title is there for a reason hehe), heavy breeding kink, feral seok dirty talk, messy creampie (pls let me know if I missed any!)

You had every intention to hang the wet laundry out to dry on this beautiful sunny day. It was a simple task, really, one you could have completed in less than five minutes had you not let yourself get distracted. 

Said distraction came in the form of Lee Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend of four years, who had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and switch his usual gym session for a home workout in your garden.

It was quite the sight as he sat on the weight bench, his gorgeous sun-kissed arms and legs on full display, toned muscles pulling and coiling with every raise of his arms. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, making his brown locks stick messily to his forehead. It was almost as if he was chiseled by the gods themselves with how absolutely breathtaking he looked in the bright and glowy sunlight.

You had to resist looking over every few seconds as you attempted to put the laundry pieces on the clothes line. But as the minutes passed, you quickly discovered that trying to suppress the urge to gawk at your hot boyfriend was a battle you weren’t going to win, especially when he was constantly releasing those sinful grunts that sent your mind into a frenzy. 

Before you knew it, the laundry was long forgotten. The only thing that was going through your mind in that moment was how much you wanted — no, needed — to feel Seokmin’s sweaty body against yours. Thanks to your busy and exhausting schedules, it had been a few days since you and your boyfriend last had sex, which, with a sex drive as high as yours, had driven your need for the man to an all time high. 

It was time to do something about that.

Your legs were already moving on their own accord as your hungry gaze settled on Seokmin’s thick thighs, a mischievous smile overtaking your features as you planned out your next move.

Your boyfriend was completely lost in his own world, totally oblivious to the thirsty thoughts floating around in your head as you crept up on him. The headphones he wore drowned out any distracting sounds as he focused on his reps, and with his eyes fully closed, he did not hear you approach him until it was already too late. 

“What the f— baby?!” Seokmin nearly dropped the two 8kg dumbbells he was holding when you jumped him out of nowhere, trapping him with your arms and legs like a clingy koala. 

“That’s me.” You giggled at the dazed look on your boyfriend’s face as you uncovered his ears.   

“What’s the meaning of this?” he breathed, carefully lowering his arms to place the dumbbells into the grass.

You licked your lips, shifting your hips slightly to get more comfortable. “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re trying to kill me,” he groaned before firmly planting his hands onto your sides to get you to stop rubbing against his crotch. 

A sly grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That’s what I was trying to go for.” 

“Oh, were you now?” He raised his eyebrows. “I was almost done with my workout, you know?”

“Hmm, that really sucks then.” You tangled your fingers in his messy hair. 

“Give me five more minutes,” he mumbled, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching along his sensitive scalp. 

“No,” you whined, immediately stopping all movement, much to your boyfriend's disappointment. “I need attention now. It's been too fucking long already.”

You didn't care how whiney you sounded. You needed him right at this moment, and you sure as hell weren't going to wait another minute, especially not for him to finish his damn workout. 

“But I'm sweaty,” he argued with a scrunch of his nose. 

You smirked at that, tightening your grip on his hair as you moved in closer, your lips now less than an inch apart. 

“Even better,” you whispered before teasingly brushing your lips against his. “You're fucking hot when you're sweaty,” you continued, which was followed by you shifting your hips once again, this time with a little more force. 

Seokmin released a sharp hiss at the throbbing sensation your hips left in their wake. The muscles in his thighs automatically tightened, and so did the grip on your waist, all of which you were more than excited about. You got him right where you wanted, and it was only a matter of time before he would take the bait. 

“You're the devil.”

“Only when I have to be.” You grinned, your big twinkling eyes glued to his face as you slowly began to trail one of your hands down his chest. You only stopped when you reached the now very prominent bulge in his black shorts. 

“Fucking hell,” Seokmin cursed under his breath when you gave him a little experimental squeeze. It was just a simple touch, but he already felt the arousal gradually starting to overtake his mind and body. Just a minute ago, he’d been in full workout mode, but now he suddenly couldn’t stop imagining you stuffed full with his cock, begging him to make you cum again and again until you could no longer move. 

You took advantage of the moment and closed the little bit of distance between you to pull him into a deep kiss. Seokmin didn’t resist, already having decided that he’d much rather spend his time pleasuring his pretty and horny girlfriend instead of finishing the remainder of his stupid arm reps. Besides, you were right. It had been a while since he’d gotten his dick wet, so if you wanted to change that, who was he to object?

It only took a few seconds before Seokmin’s lips were just as hungry and forceful as yours, pulling at your mouth with an eagerness that made your gut clench with anticipation. 

His hands navigated down to the swell of your ass, fingers digging roughly into the soft fabric of the yellow sundress you were wearing to press you into his growing erection. You moaned into the kiss at the sudden shift, your own hands moving to grasp at whatever piece of bare skin you could find as you felt yourself grow hotter by the second. 

Your patience was slowly beginning to run thin the longer you sat in his lap with your panties soaked and your neglected cunt begging to be filled. You honestly hadn't felt this needy in a while, so you really didn't want to deprive yourself of Seokmin’s dick for much longer. And you prayed that he felt the same. 

You knew the man liked to drag the whole thing out with a shit ton of foreplay, which often included endless make out sessions and bringing you to multiple squirting climaxes before he even got to fuck you. It was the whole reason sex with Seokmin had become one of your favorite pastime activities in the first place. 

Your boyfriend was a natural at pleasuring you, and he had been since day one. You quickly learned that faking pleasure and Seokmin could never belong in the same sentence. In fact, more often than not, you’ve had to beg him to stop making you cum for fear of passing out from over stimulation. But even in those moments, he usually still managed to pull another few mind-shattering orgasms out of you like the magician he was, and you were certainly not complaining. 

It was just that right now, in this particular moment, you needed him to skip the long foreplay and fastforward to the part where he fucked you stupid. 

“Min, I need you inside me so bad,” you whimpered in between kisses, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint and give you just that. 

He did not get it. 

All you got out of it was an appreciative grunt and a harsh squeeze to your backside that did nothing to satiate the pulsing ache in your pussy. 

Accepting that you were just going to have to speed things up yourself, your hand sneakily found the waistband of his shorts, fingers already tugging the material out of the way to grab a hold of his hard dick. If everything worked out in your favor, you'd be sitting on it within the next twenty seconds. 

“Fuck, baby,” Seokmin groaned, one of his hands clasping around your wrist before you even had the chance to wiggle your hand inside his shorts. “Why don't we go inside before we start ripping off clothes, hmm?”

“No.” Confusion. That’s the emotion that flashed across your boyfriend’s face at the sound of your outright no. 

“No? But I thought you wanted to…?” He frowned, slightly loosening his hold on you when he thought you didn’t want to continue. 

You quickly wrapped his arms back around your waist before grasping his face in your hands. 

“Oh, I do.” A cheeky grin pulled at your mouth. “Right here. You're fucking me here.”

“Right here? O-outside?” Seokmin stuttered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he seemed to process your words. 

Although your sex life was pretty active and more than satisfying, you couldn’t exactly call it adventurous. Despite many of your close friends believing that you and Seokmin were a couple of kinky fuckers, your sexual escapades were usually limited to your bedroom and definitely more on the vanilla side of the spectrum. 

Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. On the contrary, even the most vanilla sex with him felt a hundred times better than the riskier and more experimental sex you’d engaged in with some of your exes, so you didn’t even really miss it. Still, sometimes — like right now — you wished he’d just throw you around and fuck you into the next day for everyone to see. 

You were, however, very much aware that asking him to fuck you in the garden was a complete one-eighty from your usual bedroom adventures, and it could potentially get you caught by your nosy old neighbors, which was definitely a con. But then again, you were feeling unusually risky today, so you honestly couldn't care less who got to see you getting railed. Your only concern right now was soothing the ache in your throbbing cunt. 

All you had to do was convince your lovely, handsome boyfriend to make that happen. 

“Yes, right here.” You nodded and reached up to undo the first two buttons of your dress, taking note of how your boyfriend's eyes automatically gravitated towards your fingers. “Got a problem with that?”

“Well, uh…” Seokmin swallowed thickly as you popped three more buttons, exposing the strapless, lacy, white see-through bra you were wearing underneath. Your hard peaks were poking right through the flimsy material, which made it nearly impossible for him to rip his eyes away from the arousing sight. Your boyfriend was a sucker for your boobs — or any part of your body for that matter — which is exactly why you hoped the next part of your plan would work.

“I think— uh…” He tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed terribly when you popped another three buttons, his eyes following diligently as your action revealed the smooth skin of your stomach. “What I’m trying to s— that…”

By the time you popped the remaining three buttons, Seokmin had completely forgotten what he was going to say. His eyes were practically glued to your body, in particular to the matching see-through panties that left little to the imagination. They gave him a perfect view of your puffy folds and the arousal seeping through the already drenched material. 

Seokmin was — understandably —  having a hard time keeping it all together.

“Well?” You suppressed a grin to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on your handsome boyfriend. “You gonna help me undress or do I have to do everything myself?”

You got your answer when he planted his lips back on yours without another word, hardly giving you a second to breathe as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You instantly melted against him as your body flooded with heat once more, your hands fumbling to grasp onto his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

Seokmin’s fingers made quick work of your bra, skillfully unclasping the constricting garment and throwing it carelessly in the grass. He took a moment to admire your newly exposed flesh, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before they drifted back down to the drenched panties hugging your cunt. 

He subconsciously licked his lips as he imagined his face buried between your legs, drowning himself in the taste of your sweet juices while you screamed out his name. 

“Stop staring like a creep and do something, please.” Your hand was back in his hair, fingers tightly gripping onto his locks as you pulled at his head, forcing him to rip his eyes away from your pussy and back up to your face. 

“You want me to do something?” An amused smile took over your boyfriend's features as he took in your desperate expression. 

“Yes!” you nearly cried, feeling seconds away completely losing your shit. “I swear to god, Seokmin. If your dick is not inside me within the next twenty seconds I’ll d— ah!”

You didn’t get to finish the rest of your sentence as you were cut off by your own shriek, eyes going wide with shock as you gaped at a smug-looking Seokmin. Just a second ago, you’d been sitting in his lap, but now you suddenly found yourself trapped beneath him, sprawled out on the metal workout bench and completely at his mercy.  

“You'll do what, baby?” Seokmin smirked triumphantly at your stunned face.

“Forget that,” you breathed, using the grip you had on his hair to pull him in for another kiss. “Fuck, that was hot. I want more where that came from.”

“Noted.” His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, and you released the grip you had on his head to allow him to lean back further. 

Your belly fluttered with anticipation when he moved the fabric of your dress aside to make contact with your bare skin. His hands teasingly began to trail down your sides, sending a series of tingles down your spine as you let your mind run wild with desire. 

A shaky breath left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked his fingers into your underwear, excitement filling your body instantly. You were already starting to lift your hips, eager to help him get rid of the one thing separating your cunt from his hungry gaze. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to pin you back down and tear your panties right off your body with a single move. You were left speechless once again, watching as your boyfriend proudly held up the torn lace before letting it fall to the ground. 

That was definitely going on your ‘Hottest Lee Seokmin Moments’ list.  

“You’re really trying to drive me insane over here,” you mumbled when you’d finally found your voice again. 

“You ask, I deliver.” Seokmin chuckled and continued to pull his shirt over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a set of mouthwatering glistening abs and a little dark happy trail that disappeared into his black shorts.

“Good.” Your eyes shifted back up to his with a new determination, your legs slightly opening to give him a nice view of your slick cunt. “Then I’m asking you to fuck me next.” 

With one hand, you reached for the waistband of his shorts, fully intent on tugging it down just enough so you could pull his dick out and guide it into your dripping hole. 

But Seokmin had other plans. 

“Now what?” you whined when his hands stopped you mid-move, wrapping themselves around your wrists just like he’d done before.

What would it take for a girl to get some dick from her boyfriend?

“Not so fast, baby. I'm gonna take care of you first.”

You shook your head in protest. “But I don’t want to wait any longer, Min. Please.”

“Do you want my dick or not, baby?” You’d never nodded faster. “Then be a good girl and spread those legs wider for me.”

That little command had you automatically spread your legs wider, a soft moan rolling off your lips as your walls clenched hard around nothing. Never in the time you’d been with Seokmin had he called you a good girl, but you found that you liked it… a lot. And you wouldn’t mind if he called you that more often from now on. 

“Oh? Does my baby like being called a good girl?” Seokmin smirked, his dark orbs burning into your own as he pushed your legs back as far as you could manage.

“Yes, fuck… so hot,” you whimpered, your legs twitching when you felt his hot breath ghost over your glossy cunt. 

“Keep being good and I’ll keep calling you that,” he murmured right before dipping his tongue between your slick folds.  

The debauched moan you released in response was enough to make Seokmin’s cock jerk uncontrollably inside his shorts. In return, he released a deep groan of appreciation, sending a wave of delicious vibrations to your core that automatically had you try to clamp your legs around your boyfriend's head. But Seokmin, who was way ahead of you, had such a tight hold on your thighs that it was nearly impossible to move. 

He used that grip to bury his entire face in your pussy, hardly giving himself room to breathe to completely drown himself in the taste of you, determined to get you to squirt your juices all over his face. 

With his skillful tongue alternating between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure in all the right spots to bring you to the edge, it took less than a minute before you were moaning his name like a mad woman.

Seokmin relished in the lewd sounds he pulled from you, and the way you desperately gripped at his hair to steady yourself as he devoured you, completely drunk on the taste of your pussy. His dick was painfully hard, straining against the inside of his shorts, practically begging him to relieve some of that agonizing tension. But in all honesty, chasing his own pleasure was the last thing on his mind right now. All that mattered was you, your climax, and nothing else.

It was even at the point that he'd momentarily forgotten you were doing all of this outside, in the garden, where any neighbor would be able to hear or see the obscene things he was doing to you. Not too long ago, Seokmin would have reeled at the thought of engaging in risky public sex, but now, here he was, eating you out in the garden and enjoying every bit of it, not a single fuck given. 

You found yourself in a similar position, eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body twitching and shuddering from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your nerves. It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned things to go — still no dick — but it certainly helped quench the worst of your sexual cravings. The way the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue said enough. 

“F-fuck that’s gonna make me cum so fast, holy shit!” you whimpered when your boyfriend suddenly slid two of his long fingers inside you, immediately curling them up to press against that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose your mind. 

Seokmin only hummed against your pussy, his eyes catching yours as the corners of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smirk. Then, his hand was speeding up, fingers mercilessly batting against your sweet spot while his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. He watched you succumb to the pleasure with hungry eyes, your face contorted in pure ecstasy as your moans got louder and louder the closer you got. 

“You like that, baby?” your boyfriend rasped, his mouth briefly detaching from your clit. 

Your cunt clenched around his fingers in response, the only sound coming out of your mouth being a needy whine since you couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with a sane response with how scrambled your mind was.

That was met with a sharp nip at your swollen nub.

“Answer me,” Seokmin growled, apparently not satisfied with your lack of words.

You yelped loudly at the unexpected but very welcoming stinging sensation that had your nerves singing with pleasure. “Shit— yes! I fucking do!”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised with a harsh slap to your inner thigh before taking your clit back between his wet lips.

The sound of the pet name unraveled something inside you, drawing every muscle in your body taut as you were abruptly thrown over the edge. The full force of your toe-curling orgasm caused you to cry out your boyfriend’s name, your legs trapping his head between your thighs while drenching his pretty face with your arousal. 

Seokmin was perfectly content like that, groaning into your cunt like a starved man as he tried to catch every last drop of your slick with his mouth. Even when you began pushing at his head to get him away from your overstimulated pussy, it took him another twenty seconds before he finally detached himself, looking up at you with a dopey, satisfied grin and his chin dripping with your arousal. 

“You’re insatiable, Lee Seokmin,” you rasped, chest heaving as you tried to recover from the intense high you’d just experienced. 

Said man leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss right below your belly button.

“Yes,” He moved up slightly, this time placing a kiss right above it, “I am.” His lips trailed over your breast, goosebumps forming along the way, “But…” He nipped at your neck, “you…” he whispered, his lips hovering right above yours, “were so good for me,” he finished, capturing your lips into another heated kiss.

The taste of yourself on your boyfriend’s lips lit a new fire inside your belly, your skin flushing hot with a new surge of desire. It also didn’t help that his hands were back on your thighs, kneading and rubbing at them, making every one of your nerve endings come back to life under his scorching touch. 

“Min, get your dick out and fuck me,” you mumbled against his lips, determined to not take no for an answer this time. 

Seokmin was fully prepared to give into your demands this time, no longer wanting to tease you because he was feeling just as desperate and eager to be inside you. There was, however,  just one little thing he hadn’t thought of before. But now with you sprawled out before him in all your naked glory, begging for his cock, the little voice in the back of his mind decided to make an appearance. 

“Fuck.” He grimaced. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right back,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you softly before making a move to get up. 

You quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, confusion taking over your features at the sudden switch in mood.  

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Condoms… don’t have any on me. I’ll quickly grab one from inside.”

“We don’t need them,” you blurted out, immediately biting your bottom lip when you realized what you'd said.

Seokmin’s eyes visibly widened at your bold suggestion. “But you're not on any birth control. I could actually get you pregnant.”

“Would it really be that bad?” At that, the man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 

The topic of kids was nothing new between the two of you. It had come up on multiple occasions during the span of your relationship, and it was pretty clear that both you and Seokmin loved kids. The both of you always jumped at the chance of babysitting his two year-old nephew whenever Seokmin’s sister and her husband needed someone to watch him, happy to spoil him and play with him as if he was your own. 

It was no secret that you wanted a big family, and so did Seokmin, so that wasn’t the reason he was a little hesitant to fuck you without protection. He just really didn’t want you to regret anything if you did end up pregnant by the end of it, because a child was a big responsibility after all. 

But he also couldn’t deny that he wasn’t tempted by the idea of your warm walls hugging his dick without anything in the way, and being able to empty his load inside your greedy, slick-covered hole like he’d always wanted to do. 

It was hard not to give in to that, especially when you were looking at him with those big, seductive eyes of yours.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” you shot back, a mix of determination and lust adorning your face as you challenged your boyfriend. 

Seokmin frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. “We should think about this…”

“I already did, and I want this. I wanna feel you… all of you… inside me.” You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. 

“Fuck, you’re not making it easy for me,” your boyfriend sighed, feeling completely torn between doing the responsible thing and giving in to his carnal desires. 

“Then stop thinking and just fill me with cum.”

Seokmin gulped, letting out a shaky breath as he felt himself slowly start to lose the battle.

“Shit. Are you absolutely sure about this? Is this really what you want, baby?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of the bench to cage you in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to touch your nose to his. “If you're asking me if I want you to fuck a baby in me then yes, I totally want that,” you breathed, a small smile gracing your face.

Seokmin’s dick twitched in his shorts at your declaration, unlocking a new level of desire that he didn’t know existed. His body was full-on buzzing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt the gears in his mind switch to a whole different setting. 

You noticed the change in your boyfriend the moment the words had left your lips, the uncertain expression that had been on his face just now making way for a much more ominous expression, one you didn’t quite recognize. 

“Min?” 

“Bend over.” 

“O-okay.” The slight edge to his tone had you scrambling to turn around for him, nearly causing you to fall off the bench in the process as your legs got tangled up in your dress. You planned to rip the clothing piece off your body to make your life easier, but the sudden hand pinning your wrist to your back made that impossible.

“Dress stays on,” your boyfriend’s low voice sounded from behind you as you felt him flip up the material to reveal the supple skin of your ass.

You were about to protest, but the harsh slap to your behind that followed made you think twice about opening your mouth. The impact of his hand connecting with your tender skin pulled a soft whine from you, leaving you with a pleasant stinging sensation that sent a hot streak of arousal right down to your pussy. 

There was barely any time to recover from the first slap before he delivered a second one, this one even more intense and brutal than the last one, forcing you to fight down a scream as you jolted forward, barely able to keep your balance since you only had one hand available to steady yourself. 

Your boyfriend was no stranger to delivering the occasional slap to your ass, but it had always been in a loving kind of way and never like this… so rough and thrilling. So if this kind of spanking was your boyfriend’s reaction to seeing you bent over in your half-discarded dress, then you had no problem keeping it on.

“Such a good girl for me,” Seokmin groaned, his cock twitching once again as he watched your ass jiggle for a third time when his hand reconnected with your delicate flesh. You could only moan in response as you felt yourself get wetter with every slap, hand gripping onto the bench for dear life while you let your boyfriend have his way with you. 

Only after the tenth slap or so, when Seokmin noticed your legs were close to giving out on you, he released the wrist he was holding and allowed you to take a breather while he rushed to shove his shorts and underwear down his legs, finally freeing the raging boner he’d been neglecting for the past twenty minutes.

The man didn’t waste any time as he grabbed onto your waist with one hand, lining up his engorged tip with your dripping cunt with the other. 

A shudder ripped through him when he pushed forward, greedy eyes fixed on his cock disappearing between your ass cheeks, slowly getting enveloped by your tight walls as they made room for him. 

It was unlike any feeling Seokmin had ever experienced. Although he was barely halfway inside, he was sure he wasn’t going to last as long as he usually would have. Without the usual barrier in the way, he was able to feel it all, every little sensation — the warmth radiating off your walls as he slid in further, your creamy slick drenching his cock from head to base — it took everything in him to stop himself from bursting as he imagined how good you’d look with your ripe cunt stuffed full of his seed. 

Seokmin’s pupils were fully blown by the time your ass connected with his pelvis, his jaw clenched and the grip on your waist bordering on bruising as he momentarily stilled to let you both get used to the new feeling. 

You weren’t doing much better, trying to deal with the blissful ache whirling in your stomach as you tried to accommodate the familiar stretch. Only this time, you were able to actually feel the bulging veins forking along his length as they throbbed against your inner walls in the most intoxicating way. 

“Shit, Min,” you moaned, tightening your grip on the bench, “Just fuck me already. Feels so damn good like this.”

At your plea, Seokmin pulled his hips back slightly, slowly dragging his throbbing tip along your sensitive walls before abruptly burying his entire girth back inside your warm cunt with a loud groan.

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Yes… harder,” you whined, impatiently wiggling your ass in search of more of that delicious friction. 

“Fucking gladly,” he muttered, moving one of his hands to your shoulder before repeating the motion again, only this time with a lot more force and speed, which earned him a series of salacious moans that went straight down to his pulsing cock.  

It didn't take long for Seokmin to completely lose every bit of sanity he possessed as he vigorously drove his hips into your ass, your pussy squelching loudly every time his cock slammed back inside your slippery hole. 

He’d never felt like this before… fully overtaken by this primal need to breed you like the good girl you were, completely set on ruining you with his cock and stuffing load after load of cum inside your hot cunt until you couldn’t fit anymore. 

The regular Seokmin, aka the sweet man who made you breakfast every day and made sure you had absolutely everything you could wish for, would have been a messy blushing puddle with all these nasty thoughts running through his mind. But this Seokmin, the pussy drunk, sex-crazed man who was fucking you as if his life depended on it, only felt himself get more riled up with every new lewd thought that entered his mind, not feeling bashful in the slightest. 

You honestly didn’t know where the hell this Seokmin had come from, but you hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of him. His rough thrusts had you feeling like a complete wreck in the best sense of the word, causing you to release an obscene number of sounds you didn’t even know you could make. It was no doubt the best dicking your boyfriend had ever given you, but too much for your body to keep up — you discovered that when your legs suddenly decided to give out on you mid-thrust. 

Fortunately, your boyfriend was prepared and caught you just in time, firmly wrapping one of his beefy arms around your tits to press you against his bare chest, while his free hand clamped around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head up to the clear blue sky as he continued to pound into your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, gonna fill this pussy,” Seokmin growled into your ear, his breath hot against the side of your face. “Gonna fill it with my cum, fucking show the world you’re mine… get your pretty belly round with my baby,” he continued, never slowing down his unrelenting pace.

“God, yes!” you moaned, eyes once again rolling to the back of your head as your walls fluttered in response to the filth rolling off your boyfriend’s tongue. 

“Dirty girl. You like the thought of me fucking a baby into you?”

”Y-yes, fuck… want it, want your baby!” 

You didn’t think it was possible but Seokmin’s hips sped up even more after you’d said that, making you cry out loud as you clung onto his forearm to center yourself.

“Gonna fill you up like you deserve, stuff you full till you can’t walk. This pussy is fucking mine… mine to claim.” Seokmin had fully lost himself at this point, spewing all the filth he could think of, completely and utterly enthralled by your sweet raw cunt sucking him in so deliciously.

“Oh god, Min, need you to cum in me,” you rasped, feeling the coil in your stomach start to wind and tighten as your boyfriend continuously battered against your sweet spot. 

“So fucking desperate. Such a good girl.” That was the moment Seokmin released your throat and lowered his hand to attach his fingers to your clit, rubbing sloppy figure eights into it while his dick continued to stretch you out.

“Faster… faster,” you urged, feeling your body tense at the sudden surge of pleasure shooting through you. 

Seokmin listened to your pleas and sped up his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you whined, feeling like you couldn’t hold it anymore. “Gonna cum… gonna cum!”

White briefly flashed before your eyes as you came with a choked gargle of your boyfriend’s name, your cunt clenching around his cock as your body shook violently from the overwhelming sensations. 

Seokmin didn’t stop at that, feeling like he was seconds away from reaching his own high. With your fluttering cunt continuing to hold his dick in a chokehold, and you begging for his cum in his ear, it didn’t take him long to get there. 

With one last well-timed thrust, Seokmin buried himself all the way inside you, letting his own orgasm wash over him as he felt the first spurts of cum coat your inner walls. Both of you groaned in delight at the unfamiliar but arousing feeling of Seokmin’s cum filling you up for the first time. 

Heat bloomed inside you as your boyfriend continued to spill inside you, holding tightly onto you as he rode out the remainder of his climax. 

“Fuck, Min, so much cum,” you whimpered when you felt his seed begin to drip out of your swollen cunt and down your thighs. That’s how much there was. It felt like there was no end to it. 

“Pussy feels so fucking good, can’t stop cumming,” he panted against your neck, moving his hands to rest on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You smirked, tightening your walls momentarily to pull a little whine from your boyfriend.

“Well, let’s say that I’m not complaining.”

Only when Seokmin’s cock had fully softened and there really was no more cum to give, he reluctantly pulled out of you, not being able to stop himself from gawking at the big globs of cum dripping out of your pussy with his cock no longer holding it in. 

“Min?”

”Huh?” 

Despite your extremely wobbly legs, you managed to turn around and threw yourself at the man in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes with a cheeky smile on your face. 

“I love you, you know that? You’re a fucking freak!” 

Seokmin’s cheeks began to flush at your exclamation, his eyes quickly averting yours in an attempt to escape your intense gaze. 

“Oh…. uh, that? Well…” he stammered, one of hands coming up to rub at his neck.

“Are you seriously acting all shy on me now when you just fucked my brains out?” You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Well, when you put it like that…” He chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Promise me you’re gonna show this side of you more often.”

Seokmin raised his brows in surprise. “You sure? It wasn’t too much?”

“Fuck no.” You shook your head. “It was definitely some of the best dick you’ve given me.”

“I guess I have no choice then, do I?” He smiled widely.

“Nope. Besides,” You leaned in to kiss him softly before whispering seductively, “if you wanna give me a baby, we better do that many more times, just to be sure.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Then your boyfriend scooped you up without another word, your surprised shriek echoing through the garden as he hurried to rush you inside the house, eager to do it all over again.

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[skyrigel]

Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖

You are in love 1 || B.B

Part 2 of " you are in love"

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin

Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut

Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.

" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.

Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.

" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."

You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.

" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.

" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.

" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.

" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.

" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.

Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.

" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.

" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.

" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.

" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.

" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.

"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.

" I called you cute too." He squabbled.

" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.

" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.

" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.

" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.

" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."

" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.

You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.

" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.

" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.

" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.

" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.

" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.

" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.

" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.

" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.

" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.

" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.

" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.

" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.

" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.

" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.

" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.

" Well, someone's gotta teach you."

" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.

" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.

" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.

" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.

" He kissed her already ? "

" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.

" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.

" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.

Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.

" —then you can tell me about love."

Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.

" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.

" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.

You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.

" Love," he began," is like music."

" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.

Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.

" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.

" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.

" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.

" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.

" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.

" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."

" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.

" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.

" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.

Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.

" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.

You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.

" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.

" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.

" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.

" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."

You can hear it in the silence.

It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.

If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.

Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.

" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.

" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.

you can feel it with the light's out.

He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.

He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.

The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.

And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.

And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.

You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.

He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?

More than anything.

His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.

You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.

Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.

Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?

You are my best friend.

Part 2

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Happy Tuesday🐵.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Marta still insists she isn’t responsible for ordering the toner...” you shrug and sigh. You shake your head at the petty office argument. 

Before you can laugh, the guard calls time up. You blink, brought back to the present. Your account of the printer tirade seems even more silly now. 

Your eyes come into focus and you find Steve’s entirely on you. He might not admit it, but you suspect he is lonely. In some way. He’s all but confirmed that he doesn’t get any other visitors. It makes you think of Vaughn. How he must look forward to those days. They might not be the same but they both drew the same lot. 

You go to get up as the guard signals with a tap on his watch. 

“Wait,” he pulls away defiantly, keeping hold of the receiver. You keep yours by your ear. “Will you come back, sweetheart?” 

Your lips part. You’re surprised by the question. The man knows how to keep people off-balance. “What?” 

“You already gotta come all the way here for your brother so why not? I mean, if you really wanna thank me for saving his neck. I’m sure he’ll find a dozen other ways to get himself in a bind,” he shrugs. 

“Rogers,” the guard warns. 

You weigh the hint of a threat in his tone. You don’t think he’s serious but he’ll never say aloud the truth. He’s all by himself in there, even if he moves the rest of them like chess pieces. The urgency of the guard makes you sputter. 

“Sure, uh okay, I’ll try,” you say. 

“Alright,” he surrenders, a glimmer of disappointment, as if he expected more. “See ya next time, then.” 

He hangs up and the guard unhooks his cuffs from the loop. He stands, dwarfing his keeper easily, and follows him away. You’re grateful for the barrier for the first time. 

You get up and you’re led out yourself. What did you just do? You don’t have to see him again. Now you do. You made a promise and a man like that won’t take kindly to breaking it. Shoot. Why did you do this? He’s a criminal and you still have no idea what kind. 

Your heart clenches as you get to the counter and fill out your form. 

“If you really wanna thank me...” his words echo. 

You ask for another form. You don’t want to take the chance that you made things worse for Vaughn. The novelty will wear off. He’ll lose interest and hopefully, he also forgets about your brother. 

You sign the forms and pass them over. It’s a different guard. They don’t react as they read it over. They merely dismiss you as the pit deepens in your stomach. 

⛓️‍💥

You don’t tell Vaughn. If you do, he might be mad. Not just at you, but Steve. If he lashes out at someone like that, you might never see him again. That’s your worst fear. 

The thing about your brother is he might know exactly how things go, what to expect, but it doesn’t keep him from messing up. Even if Steve is watching him back, it wouldn’t stop him from feeling slighted and turning around and breaking his own spine.  

You can only imagine his reaction to your chatting with his fellow inmates. Vaughn only listens to what fits his own narrative. He wouldn’t hear you out, he’d just go off and get himself hurt. 

You attend your usual sibling commiseration. He’s looking better. You’re mostly quiet. You wait for any mention of Steve. Dread it even. He only tells you how the other guys are scared of him. You’re not so sure it’s him making them stay away. 

You say your usual good byes and love yous and you stay put. You wait. Steve appears sooner than the last time. He takes his seat and lifts the receiver. He’s just as stony as before. 

The glimmer in his eye has you reaching for the phone on your side. You gulp. You don’t know anything about him. Only the one thing that should’ve kept you away. He’s a criminal. 

“Hey,” you eke out. 

“Sweetheart,” he greets evenly. 

“It’s... your turn." You state shakily. He lifts a brow and he chuckles. You clear your throat. “I told you about me, now I wanna know about you.” 

“Oh?” He tweaks his head. 

“Look, I’m not going to keep talking to you if--” 

“You’re threatening me?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I just--” 

He laughs again, “oh, sweetheart, you’ve been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you? You miss me already?” 

You frown, “don’t call me that. I didn’t come to be laughed at.” 

“Uh huh, so why did you come?” 

You don’t know how to answer. He knows. He wants to hear you say it. 

“We both know why. That brother of yours is reckless. I can barely keep him on a leash.” He looks you up and down, “does he know you’re here, huh? I don’t think so. Think if he did, he’s be at my cell door getting his neck broke.” 

“Hey, don’t--” 

“No, you don’t, sweetheart. Don’t tell me what to do. And calm down.” He waves away your distress. He glances over towards the guard then back to you. “You’re funny when you get all worked up but don’t go ruining this. For baby brother’s sake and yours.” 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you murmur softly. “Please.” 

He snickers and rests a hand on the desk, the other on the receiver. He pushes and leans back, his chest puffing out. “Fine, what do you wanna know? I have mess at eight with all the other bums in here and I do about two hundred pushups after dinner.” 

You rub your lips together. His gaze follows the movement. “How long have you been here?” You stare at him, gripping the phone for courage. 

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his lip and shifts the receiver in his hand. He crosses his other arm over his chest, gripping his large bicep. 

“Six years.” 

“How long do you have left?” You follow-up quickly. 

“Ah, is that it? You’re anxious to get rid of all this,” he eyes the glass. “That’s sweet--” 

“I just want to know,” you blurt out. Six years isn’t too much but fifteen or more says it all. 

“A long time. The rest of my life unless the board has a change of heart.” 

You watch him, waiting. For a crack, for a tell. He didn’t flinch at all as he tells you he’s stuck there forever. Whatever he did must be bad. 

“For what?” You breath, running your fingers up and down your throat. He watches the nervous gesture before he meets your eye.  

He prickles and sets his shoulders, “You really wanna know? You gotta do something for me first.” 

You blink, “just tell me.” 

“No, that’s not how it works. You do me a favour and I’ll tell you,” he retorts. 

“What? What could I possibly do for you?” 

“You add your number to my roll on your way out.” 

“My... number?” You echo. 

“Lot of time between visits. I get antsy. When I get antsy, I do stupid things. Start fights... so?” He leans forward. He knows he’s won. 

“Fine, you tell me and I’ll do it.” 

“Deal,” he points at you, his elbow on the table. “And don’t test me. I don’t like people who go back on their word. Not even sweet things like you.” 

“I said yes,” you sniff. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he smirks. “But what they say I did...” he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “murder. Court’s a joke, you know? Lawyers only steal your money. They’ll make more on the appeal. So they let me go down when the other guys say I killed my wife. The interviews for TV pay them better.” He snorts. “Far be it from me to go against the verdict. Especially in here. Better to let people thing I’m a stone-cold killer.” 

You chew on the answer, mulling it with his expression. You can’t tell if he’s lying. Does it matter? He’s still in this place and according to Vaughn, dangerous regardless. If he wasn’t before, he is now. 

“You believe me?” He asks. You don’t answer. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter either way. We got lots of time for you to figure it out.” 

A frown tugs at your lips, “yeah...” you rub your neck and once more he stares at the movement of your hand. He’s so stoic, you can’t read whether he’s bored or annoyed. 

“I’ve banked lots of phone time,” he swirls his fingers on the desk. “I look forward to our little chats. Be a nice after dinner treat, won’t it?” 

You bit down and twist the phone cord, “why do you want to talk to me?” 

“I’ve been in here six years with stinky men. A nice little bird like you singing to me, that’s something to wake up for. It'll make the time pass,” he says. “See, I’m being honest.” 

You nod and inhale slowly. You drag your hand off the desk and wipe your sweaty palm on your jeans. You’re too far in now. There’s not going back. 

⛓️‍💥

“...so this guy tells me it’s his turn at the bench but I just got on. He didn’t appreciate me testing his strength when I dropped the weight on his jaw,” Steve laughs as you chop celery, his voice crackling from the speaker of your phone. The prison lines are fuzzy at times. He stops and silence rises. You almost think the call cut off. “Why’re you so quiet, sweetheart?” 

“I’m just making dinner,” you answer. “Listening.” 

You don’t like his stories. They’re always violent and you can’t always tell when he’s telling the truth or just trying to scare you. Vaughn said he has other guys do his dirty work. 

“Oh? What are we having?” Steve asks. 

“Stuffed chicken breast with rice,” you reply as you pour the celery off the cutting board. 

“What’s wrong?” He intones. 

“Nothing,” you lie.” 

“What? You don’t seem impressed.” 

“Well, Steve, I’m not a very violent person. I guess I don’t see much to laugh at.” 

He scoffs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was a bad boy.” 

“Steve,” you say. “I just... I don’t like to hear that stuff.” 

“Oh, you worried about me? I can take care of myself.” 

“It’s just not very nice,” you mutter. 

“Not nice? That’s how the yard works. I can’t help that. I don’t like it either but you gotta do that stuff. To survive.” He explains, “but Vaughn, well, we both know he’s no good with change. That’s why he needs someone like me--” 

“I asked you nicely not to mention him,” you say. “How much time do you have left?” 

“Couple minutes,” he drones. “Didn’t mean to get you worked up.” 

“I’m not worked up. I just... I worry.” 

“I know you do, sweetheart. Look, I’ve been here a while. Don’t you worry about me or the baby boy,” he drawls; you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Mm,” you hum. 

He mimics the noise, “you’re not amused? Sweetheart, tell me what you want to hear. How can I make you happy?” 

You cluck, “it’s just... I don’t like it... when you put on a front like that. I’m not an inmate. I... I’d rather you just be honest. I never liked men who can only talk about violence.” 

“Oh, and what kinda man do you like?” 

You look at the phone, “I don’t have a type. Not that it matters.” 

“I can be your type,” he purrs. 

You pause as you reach into the bag of bread. You’re taken aback by his statement. You shake your head. 

“Steve, I should get this in the oven.” 

“Right, time’s running out,” he exhales. “Well, good night sweetheart.” 

“Good night, Steve,” you say pointedly and reach to hang up with your knuckle. 

You sigh and tear up the bread. You can’t believe how far this has gone. He calls every night and you dread it every night. No matter what you do, he doesn’t let up. When you’re quiet, he makes you speak. When you’re curt, he makes you gentle. He demands it and you have no way to deny him. 

It’s hard at times to stomach. He can be patronizing when he wants to. When you don’t perform for him. He always mentions your brother at exactly the right time. To remind you of his power over you or to remind you of your own guilt for lying to your own family. 

Well, he has a whole life sentence ahead of him. He has to get bored eventually. Besides, Vaughn will be out in another two years on good behaviour. 

[vettelsvee]

Hello! I hope this is the correct way to request..., can you write a lewis story for prompt 28? It can be something like, reader is a new wag and there is some online hate, and lewis comforts them. It's completely fine if you don't wanna do this story, Thank you!! 💞

DON'T LET THEM SAY THAT. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL | Lewis Hamilton

Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader

SUMMARY: Lewis and you decided to make your relationship public in Maranello before 2025 Formula 1 season starts. However, love from fans isn't there as you expected ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 2043

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader is on her early 20s and Lewis is 40), fans acting like crazy, hate towards Y/N

VEE'S NOTES: I received this prompt on the inbox today and I don't know how I wrote, corrected, translated and corrected once again it today. Also, first ever Ferrari!Lewis fic I'm so emotional right now. Not really happy with the result since like Y/N in this fic, I have many intrusive thoughts about my writing and I didn't have the best of the weekends, but hope you enjoy it anyways! Remember that I appreciate your comments, feedback, as well as reblogs, thank you so much! :)

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced since your relationship with Lewis Hamilton became public has been unimaginable... and that’s putting it lightly.  

Although you were somewhat used to the spotlight thanks to your rising career as an actress, flashes from cameras, crowds shouting for you to turn around so they could get a picture, and the occasional fan asking for a photo or autograph, the world of Formula 1 was completely new to you.  

You couldn’t deny that you were unhappy with how drastically your life had changed. The man who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari had become everything you had ever imagined in a partner. kind, undeniably caring, and, most importantly, empathetic enough to understand how overwhelming this sudden rise in fame was for you.  

Lewis had noticed how down you’d been ever since he decided to post those photos of you both in Maranello. You had both agreed to go together so he could test one of those legendary red cars for the first time, fully aware that people would inevitably start talking. That day, you decided to make your relationship public after keeping it a secret for about six months, agreeing that it was best to do so before the 2025 season began.  

Despite it all, despite how much you had started closing yourself off in the following weeks, Lewis remained by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the world. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when all you did was act like everything was fine on the outside while you were slowly destroying yourself inside.  

The nightmare began with small comments on the photo Lewis had uploaded to Instagram, just you, posing timidly in front of the Ferrari while he held you around the waist, smiling like never before. At first, the comments didn’t seem like a big deal, with people just wanting to know more about your relationship or if it was serious. But soon, the messages started pouring in, insults and threats far worse than you had ever imagined, many of them coming from underage girls. Eventually, you had to disable comments on every single one of your photos, no matter how old they were.

However, what truly became a living nightmare for you were the Twitter threads and, especially, the accounts dedicated exclusively to Formula 1 wags. They were relentless, tearing you apart, analyzing your every move as if dating one of the 20 drivers on the grid was equivalent to committing first-degree murder.

“She’s just looking for fame now that her acting career is taking off.”

“She doesn’t deserve someone like Lewis.”

“She’s too young for him.”

“And let’s not even talk about how ugly she is… have you seen her?”

You sighed, throwing your phone onto the couch with such force that it ended up crashing onto the floor. But you didn’t even bother to check if it was broken. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t read any more comments, wouldn’t even open your Instagram account, yet you couldn’t resist. After all, you were human, and the weight of it all was becoming too much to bear, even more than you were willing to admit to Lewis, to whom you hadn’t fully opened up yet.

The hotel room in Tokyo, where you and Lewis had decided to stay for one of your last vacations before the season began, fell into complete silence. The only sound that filled the space was your muffled sobs.

“And who even is she? Nobody knows her.”

“Lewis deserves someone better, that’s for sure.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

You couldn’t understand it. It felt so unfair... Why were you being treated this way just for loving someone? Why did people throw venomous words at you without even knowing you, without even trying to? Did being a fan of Lewis automatically mean they had to hate you?

You tried to relax, to break free from the spiral of thoughts that only led you to overthink, but it was impossible. Once your mind started down that path, the only thing it knew how to do was tear you apart from the inside.

As you tried to steady your breathing and quickly wiped away your tears, a knock echoed at the door.

You pulled yourself together as fast as you could, forcing a smile while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything possible to pretend that everything was fine, that you were fine.

But the moment you opened the door and saw Lewis, drenched in sweat from his gym session and pulling out his earbuds, you immediately turned around and rushed into the nearest room, the bathroom, locking yourself inside to keep him from seeing you like this.

“Come on, Y/N...”

Lewis knew you too well by now. No matter how hard you tried to convince him otherwise, he could see right through you, he knew you were struggling, and struggling pretty badly.

He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said or did might only make things worse, might make you shut down even more. Instead, he rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling defeated, thinking of ways to make you feel worthy enough to stop torturing yourself over what strangers were saying online, people who knew nothing about your relationship and even less about you.

Eventually, you decided to come out. Lewis saw you, completely defeated, and he cursed himself for letting things get to this point. What had he done wrong to make you feel this way? God, you were just a girl in your early twenties who had recently made the leap to Hollywood stardom after moving to Los Angeles at sixteen, waiting tables in a run-down bar, and facing countless failed auditions until you finally landed the role that changed everything.

“Hey, love,” Lewis spoke as gently as possible, his eyes scanning your red-rimmed ones and your tangled hair. “What’s wrong?”

He knew exactly what was wrong, but he wanted you to be the one to speak, to let it all out.

You took a deep breath and pointed at your phone, still lying on the floor. A nervous knot tightened in your stomach, and your hands began to fidget anxiously. As if on cue, tears started streaming down your face once more.

“I just… I don’t understand why they have to be like this. What did I do to deserve this? Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough for you?”

Lewis sighed. He had known from the beginning that not everyone would accept your relationship, but the amount of hate you were facing was beyond excessive. He was exhausted by the senseless comments and social media accounts created solely to spew hate at you. And even more, he was tired of becoming tabloid fodder, followed everywhere by paparazzi eager to capture any moment they could.

Seeing you like this hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and it made him feel miserable.

“Hey, Y/N… look at me.”

Despite speaking to you firmly and holding your hand, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb to calm you down, you didn’t respond. Lewis then cupped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at him.

“I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I also know that with how stubborn you are, you probably won’t listen to me, but don’t let what they say about you bother you,” he wanted to say, but all he really cared about was you. “What matters is that I love you, okay?”

“But... why does it have to affect me? Why did I used to not care about anything, and now I care so much about the opinion of strangers?” you asked, hesitantly, biting your lip in an attempt to relax.

Lewis moved even closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. He hated seeing you like this, especially when before all of this started, you were a light in his life, and it was him who used to lean on you when race weekends got overwhelming.

“Because you’re human, babe,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. “Even though we sometimes say the opposite, we all care about what others think of us, especially when all they want to do is bring us down.”

“But... what if they’re right? What if I’m not what you deserve?”

“Do I need to remind you again that they’re wrong?” Lewis said, pulling you slightly away so your gazes met. “You need to remember how much you mean to me, but more than that, you need to remember who you are and all that you’re worth. That’s all that matters.”

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, once again crying quietly to avoid him seeing you like this.

“I’m ugly, Lew. Really ugly,” you confessed without lifting your head. “I don’t even know how you love me, or how you agreed to be with me after all those months we spent talking and hanging out as friends, or…”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t let them say that. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, and you’ve always been, alright? Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”

You laughed, and Lewis felt that as a small victory.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. For the first time in a long while, you pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, the destructive comments you saw daily on social media, and allowed yourself the luxury of, for just a moment, trying to stop torturing yourself and accepting that there were things you couldn’t change.

Lewis’s words, while brief and somewhat familiar to you, brought a peace you hadn’t felt in days. You did your best to let the tension in your shoulders melt away, slowly separating from him and moving your arms bit by bit.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lew,” you whispered, once again wrapping your arms around his waist, wishing you could never let go of him.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lewis chuckled, planting kisses on your forehead. “I’m never going to leave you, and I hope you’ll never leave me either.”

Neither of you said anything more. Your bodies remained close, exchanging shy kisses, making promises that everything would get better as you both talked about the changes you’d face in 2025. That was enough for you both to know things were going to be okay.

You both understood that the big, risky changes you were taking, especially your relationship, were going to be difficult, just like what was happening with you and the wave of hate you were receiving. But once you stopped giving it too much importance, or rather, no importance at all, no one would stop you as the newest couple in Formula 1.

“Hey, listen to me, please... I’ve been thinking about something.”

Lewis’s words caught your attention as you were starting to drift off to sleep in bed. You straightened up, your hand still intertwined with his.

“How about we take a walk, and you can get to know the city a bit?” he suggested. “You know… we could go eat out, hit up an arcade, or maybe…”

“Can you get me a stuffed animal from one of those weird claw machines?!” you interrupted him, excited, which made Lewis burst out laughing.

“Of course, I can get you a stuffed animal, or buy you all the ones you want.”

You smiled, and as Lewis went to the bathroom for a shower, you began to prepare for the day. That moment was exactly when you realized you needed to trust yourself more and, specially, just as Lewis valued you. Because if there was one thing you’d learned from him in the short time you’d been together, it was that, no matter what you did, you’d always be the envy of others, so you just needed to remind yourself that you didn’t need to feel worse for living the life you’d always dreamed of and, moreover, you worked hard to have.

[hedwig221b]

I recently realized that I’ve literally never read a teen wolf ff despite being a huge fan of the show and sterek. So now I’m on the hunt for a rlly good one to start with but I’m having a bit of trouble finding one that not only fits what I’m looking for but actually has good writing (no offense to the authors I just want my first one to be a good one that hooks me like Crimson Rivers hooked me into the marauders fandom😅)

so could you recommend me some that aren’t aus, not necessarily canon but canon is okay, werewolf or human stiles, with sterek (I do love a slow burn but doesn’t have to be), maybe some of your favorites?

What an honor to introduce you to sterek fanfiction omg! Here is a list of what I consider sterek classics (the canon kind), my beloved 💖

Hide Of A Life War by Etharei

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...” The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

Home by TheTypewriterGirl

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death. The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was. So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles finds a baby on the porch. It looks exactly like him. Well, this is awkward.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf. Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks. Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody. And it’s about time somebody told him that.

Pale Horses by Jana_C 

Being bitten had never been on his to-do list, but he could deal with that. Helping Derek Hale become a competent Alpha, though, that was so not in his job description.

A Similar String by snarkatthemoon 

Strong bonds made for a strong pack, and he needed a strong pack. They spent a long time in silence, Derek thinking hard about how he was going to cement the bonds. It needed to be done, and not just because they had the threat of the witch hanging over them, but for the good of the pack. It felt like hours had passed by the time he came around; he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Stiles moving around on the couch so that his head was resting on Derek’s thigh, his long legs hanging over the arm on the far end. He wasn’t sleeping, but his eyes were closed and his heartbeat wasn’t as fast as it usually was, as if he was just on the edge of sleep. It should have felt weird, having Stiles in such close contact, but Derek found that it really didn’t feel weird at all. His head was a comforting weight in Derek’s lap, another anchor tethering him and keeping him calm and in control. . Or, the one where Derek meets a witch, gets his betas back, and seemingly develops a sense of humour. Also, Stiles is totally magic, manages to accidentally join a werewolf pack, and asks too many goddamn questions. What could possibly go wrong?

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

Hold Me Close (I'm Falling Apart) by ajeepandleather

“Wolves without an emissary are naturally turbulent because their instincts are wild. Subconsciously, you’ve been balancing them, but you aren’t tied to the pack so you aren’t getting a balance in return.” “So, they’re bleeding me dry. Always knew they were parasites.” Stiles smiled dryly. “You’ll need to attach yourself to an alpha soon. There are risks for an unbalanced druid.” “Like?” “Well, a disruption in balance may show itself in several ways. It’s a disruption in nature, so nature will twist and alter in an attempt to right itself.” “What does that mean?” Stiles was getting anxious. The vet was avoiding giving direct answers and that never meant anything good. “You’re magic is heavily entwined with your will, and your will is parallel to your mind.” “I’ll go insane.”

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

spiderweb of lies by pineneedlepants

Derek gets a chance to gain his alpha powers back. The only one throwing a wrench in those plans is Scott.

Sparks and shadows by Nival_Vixen 

Stiles has to figure out a way to maintain a balance between his spark and the darkness inside of him.

The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW

Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek. Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.

It’s Not Pretend When It’s Real by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.” “Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.” “Hey!” Scott insisted. “He’s like, my second best friend,” Stiles amended. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Right?” He turned to grin at Derek, who was scowling at him.

Running Up That Hill by maypoison

“Even before the pack joined together, Scott was trying to protect you. And he still is trying to protect you, even if it means leaving you out of all this.” Stiles does roll his eyes at that. “Yeah, but it didn’t work did it. I was still involved, and so was my Dad. We were nearly killed by Matt, and then Gerard.” “My point is, people change. Relationships aren’t always perfect. Scott's tried to kill me before." Stiles raises an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying that someone trying to kill you is just a small flaw in a relationship?" “We’re werewolves.” Derek answers with a shrug, as if that was a perfectly good explanation.

It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?” Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping. Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death. “Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least. “Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?” “Yes.” “Why?” “How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

Wolf Cub by moodwriter

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist. Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope. He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles. “I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

I know you mentioned no aus, but it would be a crime for me not to mention these absolute treasures that are staples in sterek fanfiction experience. The characters are on point, and the writing is magnificent

Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange. Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 

“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” “It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

Cloaked in Gold by kaistrex (weishen)

Stiles' world tilts, the bed dipping as a weight settles over him, caging him in. Growling. His eyes flutter open in distant confusion as hot air sweeps over his throat and he stares up at twin beams of gold shining inches from his face. Werewolf. Stiles does the only thing he can. “DAD!” The werewolf jumps at the sudden shout, blanketing him tighter, and it’s only seconds until his dad is in his bedroom doorway with Melissa close behind, flicking on the light. Stiles' mouth drops open as he stares up at the thick eyebrows, sharp nose and perfectly groomed stubble of a golden-eyed and fanged Derek Hale. - When son of the Alpha, Derek Hale, ends up in his bed in heat, Stiles decides to use it to his advantage and secure the Bite for his sick stepbrother. As he and his family are welcomed into the Hale pack, Stiles grows closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, but with the fanged Soulbite of a born wolf on Derek's neck, he knows he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. Derek has a Soulmate out there, and it definitely isn't Stiles.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

[masterlist link]

[latenighttalkinqwp]

tiktok trends with paige! ( pt. 5 )

based off of this tiktok trend !

“we listen and we don’t judge.. my first time going to a uconn game was only because of the edits on my tiktok..”

“you literally go to school here!”

“that dosent change anything!”

“okay then. we listen and we don’t judge, the first time i came over and i asked to use the bathroom..i brushed my teeth with a toothbrush in there because i was scared that my breath stank after dinner..”

“PAIGE-”

“WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE, BABE.”

“righttt. so sometimes if i think you stink after practice, ill keep bringing up a random smell and ask you if you smell it until you figure out it’s you.”

“bro. you literally did that earlier-”

“no judging!”

“we listen and we don’t judge, if you still have my hoodies that i need for a fit, i’ll bring you a different one and hide it in your closet.”

“that’s just- okay.”

“anyways, we listen and we don’t judge, i always wear shoes in your dorm shower because im scared of getting athletes foot.”

“you think we dirty or something?”

“babe, 5 athletes live there. i’m not taking chances.”

“yeah, that’s it. we finished with this.”

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! likes and reblogs are appreciated! click here to see my masterlist 💖

- something short n sweet 🙌🏾 but this trend is actually hilarious so i had to do something

[theredharlotybf]

Hi! I just read your post, If your requests are open then I’d love to ask for anything with Toby! I’m absolutely starved for any SFW content about him—but NSFW is also very appreciated if that’s your vibe 👀

Honestly, I just want to give you full creative freedom, but I’m also super curious about your headcanons for him. So really, anything at all would totally make my day 💖 Thanks either way!

AN: Hi everyone! Hope no one minds how long this is, my first time writing headcannons, not a professional yet but hopefully i get there soon.

Ticci Toby Headcannons

Disclaimer: Blood, Violence, Gore, Bullying, Seccual content, I make these up as I go, don't judge me.

PERSONAL HEADCANONS

Toby, Toby, Toby. Where do we start with Toby?

I know a lot of people see a hyperactive and silly goofy guy so, not a lot of people really take him seriously.But he is so much more than that.

Born with all those mental disorders does a number on you, especially at such a young age. He never learned how to interact with other people his age- his tourette syndrome which led others to call him ‘Ticci Toby? He never had a real friend in his life.

Of course, there was his older sister Lyra who always did her best to protect him. What with their abusive father screaming abuse at him, Lyra and the mother- taking his rage out on Toby by beating him while in a drunken frenzy. Even in those times, Lyra came to his defense- taking some of those punches even though she knew he couldn’t feel pain due to his CIPA.

I imagine their mother at the time would dissociate whenever their father was like this, just pretend it didn't happen and put herself somewhere else. A lot of people do this when in situations concerning domestic violence- but since she was too focused on protecting her own mental state- she completely forgot about the safety and wellbeing of both Toby and Lyra.

Then came the accident. Both Toby and Lyra were driving home one night after going to see a movie when all of sudden- a drunk driver is carelessly carousing on the wet and slippery backroad to their house and crashes into them. Lyra is killed on Impact and Toby- thanks to his CIPA is unfazed- but is forced to watch his sister die right before him. His safe space and only friend. But even after her funeral, his mother kept on dissociating and his father just got worse- the beatings, the verbal abuse…..the voices.

He was angry-he was depressed, he was losing his sanity.

How do you help a boy like Toby who is diagnosed with Schizophrenia, Bipolar disorder, ADHD and to top it all off- PTSD, who lost his sister in a gruesome way- his father abusing him in every way he knows and his mother- playing blind to all of it.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair. Why did it have to be Lyra who died and not their dad? Hell- their mother can die too for all he cares- if she did- neither him nor Lyra would be in this mess. But running away wouldn’t have solved anything- he was still a minor. If he ran away from home- police would simply find him and drag him right back.

That is…. If he had a home to return to…

The solution was staring him right in the face- they told him the answer- yet he didn’t want to see it. But the minute he picked up those hatchets, gripping the handles in both hands, he no longer felt afraid.

He never knew killing could be so cathartic before swinging those hatchets down into his father- the beautiful smell of metal coating his skin as his father’s blood squirted onto him as if it were a geyser. The look of terror in his eyes that looked far too much like his sisters. He plucked them out and squished them under his boots. His screams rang throughout the garage and ironic as it is, his mother finally snapped out of it when she realised her son was murdering her husband.

While his mother called the police- he took a canister of gasoline and a match, setting fire to the neighborhood. He wouldn’t let the police take him- for something that was his right and yet- when the fires set in around him- the only thing he could think about was Lyra.

If he died, he knew there was a chance he might see her again- but he knew there was only one place he was going and it surely wasn’t heaven.

“Toby….. My child….”

The voices in his head had come again, his strength- had come in the form of an eight foot tall man with no eyes, no nose or mouth. A faceless being who stood among the burning trees, looking down at his helpless figure as he struggled to breathe

“This is not the end for you…. Your work has only begun…”

Before he blacked out, a searing burn was felt on his back, Toby had become the Slendermans’s proxy- and yet…. He didn’t hate it.

Toby felt as though he had ascended from the frightened and helpless boy he once was to a man- a servant of the Operator with the duty to murder any and all his Master deems as a target. He was strong, he was powerful and he had the backing of the most dangerous entity in the world.

Strangely enough- his master had other Proxies working for him. Two men called Tim and Brain, a bit older than Toby but more or less on the saner side. Tim was quite irritant and cranky while Brain was silent but sarcastic when he wanted to be. They clearly had some baggage but Toby wasn’t all that interested in knowing- both Tim and Brian- or rather, Masky and Hoodie were simply co-workers. One of them would always go for the kill, and the other would always film it.

Then came Kate, a new Proxy for their master. She never spoke a word and yet everyone could sense her bloodlust every time she walked into a room. She was not to be fucked with and Toby could respect that. Everyone just left everyone the fuck alone, get the jobs done and be done with it.

Though, a lot had changed in terms of his lifestyle. ((Realistically, there is no Slender Mansion ;-;))

Slenderman’s domain was spread out within the forest of the countryside, along with plenty of abandoned cabins ((Squatting in some or killing the original owners and taking it for themselves)). Even though Toby was a man now- he had to adapt to being an adult quickly- sure he could murder people and take their money- but it wasn’t as steady of an occupation as you would imagine, I mean, not every victim they come across is swimming in money so- they had to get jobs.

Toby has multiple jobs, working as a farmhand, a lumberjack, he even picked up some mechanical work after wrapping his head around it- guess it did help that his dad was a mechanic.

Now he fixes Masky’s car and Hoodies’s truck and they pay him back with either cash, cigarettes- alcohol. All the same to him.

He only wears his mouth guard when hunting- when he’s out in public, he puts a gauze over his cheek where he chewed through.

Sleeper build for days- yet has such an unhealthy diet of take out, microwave dinners and tinned food. This boy can’t cook to save his life.

MEETING TOBY

How would you meet Toby? He is quite the solitary creature, he won’t leave the forest if he can help it- the only times he ventures into the city is when he has a target there or when it's his turn to shop for supplies.

He won’t go to you so you go to him.

You live a stressful life with your own shit to deal with- a breakdown was imminent and when you crashed out, you realized this lifestyle wasn’t for you and getting away from the hustle and bustle of the city was just what you needed.

You bought an old Cabin nearly twenty years old, the owner went missing years ago and presumed dead, since then, it's just been sitting on the market place- waiting to be bought. You jumped at the opportunity, taking your pets and moving to the countryside. 

When you get there with the real estate agent- you notice some belongings, men's clothes, old food in the fridge- the agent tells you its most likely squatters but judging by the rotting food in the fridge, the squatters haven’t been here in a while and called up a locksmith to come and change all the locks in the house free of charge since no one knew the residence was being lived in.

Though, you did feel bad about whoever was living here, you understood times could get tough, hence why after scrubbing the fridge clean, you threw the old clothes in the wash, hanging them up to dry and then folding them neatly and leaving them in a box.

The previous owner of the cabin was an older man who enjoyed hunting, the house was decorated in taxidermied animals and it wasn’t really for you, preferring to put all of them up for auction instead. Over the next few weeks, you got to cleaning up the cabin, replacing old furniture with new ones and stuff from your old home. You brightened up the place with fresh coats of paint, new curtains and carpet, replacing the broken windows and fixing all the creaky doors yourself. Even installing an automatic dog door for your pets so they can come in and out themselves.

You planted flowers at the front of the cabin while starting your own little vegetable garden. The old smell of tobacco and musk was replaced with scented candles and the smell of your new hobby, baking. You had completely transformed the old cabin and it had become more like home.

Little did you know- this little home of yours was one of the less frequently used hideouts for Ticci Toby.

And when he first laid eyes upon it, he was shocked. Sure, he has his main cabin deeper in the woods- but this hideout was one that none of the other proxies knew about- and it pissed him off. Who the hell moved into his place? Was the previous owner not warning enough?

He walked up to the front door and- “Oh! Hello!”

He didn’t notice the comfy swing seat at the end of the porch, there you were, your knees tucked to your chest, a book in hand, your pet cuddled up to and by your seat was a small table with a glass of lemonade. You were careful not to bother your snoozing baby as you placed your book down and stood up. “Can I help you sir?”

Toby’s mind went completely blank. He couldn’t put words into what he was feeling but something about you just looked….. Sweet. You didn’t look like a bad person, you were wearing blue slippers with cartoon animals, a large sweater over some leggings.

“I…. left some stuff here…” He muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. You just nodded your head. “Ah, just wait one second then.” You opened the front door and headed inside the house, he peeked inside and noticed that the once yellow walls were gone, a fresh white coat brightened up the home, new furniture, a new flat screen t.v. to replace the old one with the big fat back. He could even smell something sweet and tasty cooking.

You re-emerged from the home, carrying a box full of his clothes, clean and folded. He didn’t remember cleaning them when he last left. “I have some cherry pie in the oven, would you like some?”

“Oh- I don’t think…” He couldn’t talk anymore where you got your oven mitts and took the pie out of the oven, the delicious smell making his stomach growl. You packed him up a slice of pie in some tupperware. He was confused, surely you would have realised he was the one previously squatting in your home, yet you washed his clothes and gave him some dessert?

“You take care of yourself…. Mr?”

“Toby… Just Toby…” He muttered.

“Toby… that's a good name, you looked after yourself Toby, and enjoy that pie!”

He went back to his main hideout, wiping off a dirty spoon on his trousers before using it to eat your cherry pie. It was good. Very good. He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed a homemade pie. Actually, now that he thinks about it- he can’t seem to remember any positive memories of having dinner. Mom just made dinner, no starters, mains or… desserts. She just just made everyone a plate and that was it.

He went back to see you, he had to see you again.

But only this time, you weren’t aware he was there.

It was annoying at first because you always got up super early and he wasn’t exactly a morning person. You would get up and water your plants, refill the bird feeder and you made breakfast that looked way too healthy and some type of tea he knew wasn’t that good. You also went for a walk with your pet which gave him time to sneak into the cabin. He found out your name, your age, your birthday, even your blood type. He even managed to get access to your laptop since you didn’t turn it off. He went through your emails and a bit more digging- he found out about your breakdown after someone continuously harassed you at your last home and that your doctor advised you to ease your stress levels and live a more relaxed life, a new place where no one knew where you lived but it wasn’t what he would call a relaxed life, seeing as you liked to keep yourself busy.

You worked from home now and only went to work if there was an important meeting. But you mostly kept to yourself, alone in that cabin with your pets- he wanted to talk to you again- he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to find out what it was about you that drew him in.

So, he kidnapped your pet.

Yes, dick move, he knows- but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you and after a day of watching you run about, crying your eyes out, yelling for your baby to come home- he reappears, with your pet- saying he found them by his home nearby.

You wept for joy, taking your pet into your arms, smothering them with love and affection, vowing to never let them leave your sight again while taking Toby for bringing them back to you.

You invite Toby back to your home and offer him something to drink. You make him and yourself some coffee while allowing your pet to snack on their favorite treats. You respectfully inquire about the gauze on Toby’s cheek and there he tells you he was born with CIPA and accidentally chewed through his own cheek- it freaks people out to see it and that he hides it.

You then get worried because you gave him some pie last time you saw him and imagined how hard it would be to eat with a missing cheek. He chuckled, telling you he mastered eating his food on the one side of his mouth. He thanks you for looking after his belongings- and didn’t realise he left them behind.

You safely assumed he was a squatter until he said that he and the man who lived in the house before you used to be ‘acquaintances’, that they would hunt together on occasion which made your cheeks light up in embarrassment for assuming he was living in your house illegally. Another lie of course but the last thing he wanted was for you to think he was homeless.

Speaking of appearance- he began to wash himself more frequently, snuck away to the laundromat at the dead of night and washed all his laundry while no one was there. Even stealing cologne from a victim’s house just so he’d smell nice around you and his efforts were not unnoticed.

He would make ‘weekly’ appearances just so he could have his opportunities to interact with you by offering to do some handy work like chopping up some firewood and repairing your car (which suddenly started breaking down all the time!) and finding your pet when they ran off, you would invite him in for conversations and a meal- you once tried to get his social media but when he told you he had no social media- you found that refreshing- but at the same time, he lives out in the boonies, most people in the countryside down need social media so you just acquired a basic phone number instead.

Although his visits are ‘weekly’. He comes by your house every day to…. Keep an eye on you.

And when I say keep an eye, I mean watching you through the bushes as you tend to your garden and looking through your window as you go about your chores at home.

He was once luckily enough one night to catch you in the act- your hands under your shorts….

He never had the chance to engage in such acts but seeing you in that position was enough to make him dizzy.

But it made him stop and think- what was it about you that made him keep coming back? Sure- he found you attractive- he wasn’t ashamed to admit that but it was something more than that- despite his ticks and inconsistent mood swings- you didn’t treat him like a freak like everyone else did. He wanted to chalk it up to you having your own mental breakdown but looking at your personal info, it was more or less stress and work related anxiety that caused you to feel from society. Not that he didn’t understand how shit society was but when he interacted with you…. You never faked it.

Your warmth and kindness, not the fake smiles or carefully worded comments given to him by others. It reminds him of…. her. And suddenly, he felt like he was at home again.

His one real human connection, someone who saw him as he was and not a freak-

What the hell was thinking?

He was a murderer, a killer, a Proxy of the Slenderman. He can’t ever be human again. You didn’t know the extent of who he was- if you did- you would have gone running for the hills and never looked back.

This realization hurt- because he was really starting to become attached to you but he knew he was already crossing the line, befriending you like this. You know who he is and that was dangerous enough, he was putting the other proxies at risk and it was only a matter of time before you learned of his true identity.

He made up his made and gathered his hatchets.

He walked towards you home, both blades in hand. He didn’t want you to suffer- which is why he would make it quick and painless.

That was….. Until he saw another car in front of your house and a pet hiding under the porch- notably terrified.

He ran up to your home and saw you.

Tied up to a chair, bound and gagged as tears streaming down your face as a man who he had never seen before circled the chair you sat in while twirling a knife in his hands.

“What made you run away… darling? I’ve been with alot of women but you have to be the most ungrateful one of all! I’ve bought you the best gifts money can buy- I’ve took you on all those extravagant dates- fuck- I left my damn wife for you and you dare reject me? ME!? After everything I’ve done for!”

Toby’s first began to shake with fury- how dare this prick treat you like this?! The files… this must be the guy who was harassing you.

The guy ripped the gag from your mouth to allow you to speak.

“You never told me you were married! You lied to me from the moment we met and you try to pin this on me?! You were the one who pursued me and destroyed your own marriage! If you could cheat on your own wife- what made me think I could expect any loyalty from you? I told you as much and you still wouldn’t leave me alone- despite all those protection orders I had on you!”

“But what you and I had was true love- my wife never made me feel as fulfilled as you did- I only wanted you to know the extent of my feelings for you… then you just had to get the police involved….”

Then he stabbed the knife into your thigh

“And now, because of you- I am ruined! Everyone thinks I’m a degenerate! I got fired and my wife won’t let me see my children! We could have been happy together and you had to go and fuck it all up- now… I’m going to take my time with you… slowly.. Intimately.. I’m going to break you in every way I know how and leave your body in a ditch-”

Toby didn’t say anything else before busting down the door-  his blood raced to his face- hidden by his mouth guard and orange goggles. You both looked over at his direction, his arrival unexpected. Your stalker’s face said it all, he was terrified. Toby clearly overshadowed him with his height and physique, those two blood stained hatchets in his hands stating his intentions clearly.

“H-Hey… wait a minute there bud- lets talk about this-”

Toby didn’t give him another second before launching one of his hatchets into his chest. He screamed like a little bitch before he sauntered over to him, looking down at him. His dilated pupils studying his form through his orange goggles.

“Wanna B-break her huh? All because your a disloyal f-faggot who wasn’t worthy of a decent relationship. It's people like you that make this world so u-ugh..unbearable to live in. I’m not even gonna take my time with you…. You're not worthy of all that attention… but you’re not gonna die a painless death- that I can assure you….!”

True to his word- he ripped out the hatchet from the stalker’s chest and brought them down on him again and again, relishing in their screams until they eventually died out.

And all he could hear was your cries.

When he finally snapped out of it, he realised what he had done- you lovely kitchen which was always so clean and tidy was now saturated in blood- you were covered in the blood splattered by Toby’s reckless abandon. You shivered, crying weakly as you shivered- you were so absolutely terrified and he knew he was the cause. He wanted to run out of that cabin- to never darken your doorstep again-

“Toby… is that you?” You whimpered.

You looked up at him- with a smile breaking out into tears ago.

What happened after that was quick. He untied you, stuck you in the bathtub and let the shower head soak you as he went to clean up your kitchen as best he could, getting rid of the body and the car he came in. He let your pet back inside which gave you a lot of comfort before you rejoined him in the kitchen, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. You had a towel placed on your thigh to stop the bleeding and Toby was able to sow up your leg- using his own experience from showing up his own wounds, and yet, after he finished tending to you, you had such an empty look in your eyes.

You wanted the truth from him, no more lies.

He spilled everything, he was a deluded murderer- he killed his father and set his neighborhood on fire, he came into the service of the operator where their sole purpose is to make sacrifices in his name- how… he was planning to kill you tonight. He couldn’t lie to you, not anymore.

You were clearly taken aback- sitting on your couch and staring into space, holding your pet close to you before asking him if any of your interactions were real- was he just trying to get close to you so she would kill you.

He remembers grabbing your hands, he would never hurt you, after tonight, seeing you like that killed him so much, he never wanted to see you hurt or scared again.

You ask him to leave your house and to give you a week to think.

He obeys but not without checking his phone every five minutes- he never wanted you to hate him but if you hated him- he couldn’t live with himself. To think the only girl he ever came to care about and he fucked it up for what?

He got sloppy with his missions- targets nearly escaped and he had to hunt them down and kill them before they got away. So much so, his master confronted him about his work. And what made things worse- Slender had known about you all along. Whiched confused Toby, but his master’s reply was simple.

“I care not for your relationships outside of work but it is your job to make sure those who know of your work are kept to be indiscretion. If indulging in the flesh and company of a female is what will keep you at the top of your game- then let it be so- but if she tells anyone about you or the others…. I will dispatch her myself.”

Finally a week went by before you called again, when he came to your home- the kitchen smelt of chemicals- fresh pain and cleaning materials to remove the stains and the smell. It irritated his nose but you looked more angry. You had been through all the motions over the past week.

He asks if you and him were over and you tell him it depends on what he says.

He felt as if he was walking on thin ice before he sat down across from you. You ask if it was always his intention to kill you. He refutes this- you were always more of a curiosity, he didn’t understand why you had treated him so nicely even though he was a stranger, someone who you didn’t know. That made you even angrier, claiming it was called basic decency- that not everyone is a horrible judgemental human being- you were nice and kind to him because that's how you were with everyone- despite his disfigurement. You were hurt because of how he automatically assumed the worst of you when you met.

You also bring up the fact that he was watching you which surprised him. But you reminded him that you had a stalker before you had come to the countryside so you had recognised when someone was watching you. He admitted to watching you from afar and to looking at your private information. You had to get up from your seat- your face red with anger, betrayed at the fact that the one friend you thought you had made would do something so underhanded. That it disgusted you.

Yet- you couldn’t completely dismiss the fact that he did save you from being raped and murdered.

He asked what that guy was about. You explained that you met him at a company dinner where he asked you out, you had no objections but he brought you on super expensive dinners and good gifts like jewellery and bouquets of flowers- practically showering you with affection. That's when you knew something was up. Because if something was too good to be true, it probably is, which is why you did a deep dive into your date’s background when you found out he was married with children.

You had urged him to go back to his wife and both of you forget your affair ever existed- even though you never slept with him thank god- but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He would show up at your house at ungodly hours and send gifts to your work. You made several complaints but no one ever took you seriously. You had a doorbell camera installed at your old residences and in one video- he left a dead bird at your door and only then people had started to take you seriously but by then- the bird was the last straw and you wanted out as fast as you could. 

You asked Toby what his angle was- you had been through enough shit as it was and if he was gonna do anything to disturb the peace you fought so hard for in your life.

He promised he had no desire to hurt you but you reminded him he came to your home that night armed and ready- if that man had not been there, torturing you- what would he have done?

He didn’t know how to answer- but he knew that no matter what, he couldn’t lose you, but what could he say? What could he say…?

“Toby… I think you should leave-”

“I l-love you.” 

His lips moved on their own, he couldn’t control his words, his voice- they forced themselves out of his mouth. You stared at him with disbelief in your eyes. “You love me? How can you say that- I don’t…”

“I screwed up…. But give me a chance… I will make it up to you for the rest of my life if that what it takes”

You didn’t want to believe him, he’s done a lot of terrible things in order to be close to you, how safe were you with him near and yet….. Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s never had a genuine relationship in his life. He was a sad….lonely…and miserable boy with not a hope in the world.

But…. you were just as alone as him. Both of you sat in that darkness- with only each other and no other person to support either of you.

SFW HEADCANONS

You wanted to start off your relationship slowly with him- if he really wanted to be with you, he would have to work to earn your trust back. Which is easier said than done, so you laid your ground rules. First and foremost- boundaries. No more was Toby going to sneak around your home nor snoop like a creep. He is to keep his nose out of your computer, phone, documents- anything confidential! If he wants to visit, he will do so during the day and he will text you beforehand and not show up randomly. 

When you found out he was the servant of this demon- god- whatever it was- you didn’t want to know. It was hard enough to stomach that he would come and go, after potentially hurting and murdering a lot of people. He would tell you these people were the scum of society- but it didn’t help to stomach it any easier. Toby could do as he pleases- just as long as he didn’t bring it to your home.

Also, he was no longer allowed anywhere near your pet after finding out he would take them just to gain your trust, and you were keeping an extra close eye on your engine. As much as Toby hated the fact he was now walking on eggshells around you- he would rather this never never speak to you again.

When he was allowed to come over- you never left his sight and you never left his. If you were gardening, he would do his best to help you- but he mostly stuck to cutting up your firewood and what not. You always made him a meal when he came over and he was always happy to eat what you made, in fact, he believed he had gained more muscle by eating your foods. But you would always make him something sweet as well.

You also did more research on his conditions as well- seeing what you could do to help better accommodate him- Toby wasn’t on any medication, he stopped any medication the day he killed his family. As worrying as that was, it wasn’t like you could make him take meds- but the specific meds he would need would have to be prescribed by a doctor and as far as anyone was concerned, Toby was dead.

You two would watch movies, play some games and sometimes, Toby would take you hiking. You visited many places where you two could sit and have lunch together- it was a nice peace.

Sooner or later, you two got to talking about each other’s past. Toby told you all about his childhood, how everyone would bully him because his tourette syndrome, how they used to beat him up but because of his CIPA, he could never feel anything, but he could feel shame because he knew they were hurting him- calling him names, like ‘Ticci’ Toby because of his ticks. And to reinforce that- sometimes he would flinch when you put your hand on him before you said anything.

To that end- you thought that physical touch was not something that he wanted, so you refrained from touching him for a while- but he hated that. He wanted you to touch him- because he would never feel comfortable with anyone else touching him. It started with you two holding hands, the rough skin of his fingers rubbing against your smooth ones.

He liked to be held and to hold you. Sometimes, when you're at the kitchen, he’ll come up behind you and loop his arms around your waist while burying his head between your neck. When you watch movies, he likes to lay his head on your lap while you run your soft fingers through his hair.

Your first kiss with him was not what you had expected- he and you had taken a trip down to a nearby lake where you rented a boat. He rowed you both out while the sun shone down on the pair of you, it was a lovely day. You decided to give Toby a peck on the cheek and he looked shocked.

For a moment, you thought you messed up before he grabbed your face and pulled his lips towards yours. You remember gasping his name as he sucked on your face as you both fell to the floor of the boat with Toby on top of you.

Toby didn’t have a lot of experience with kissing, so it was up to you to teach him how to kiss. It was awkward- teaching a guy to kiss- but Toby often gets carried away with his kisses. He kisses you everywhere that has skin exposed, your face, your neck, your fingers- your legs.

When you finally came back from the lake, your neck was full of bitemarks and hickies from Toby’s love attacks.

Toby became even bolder and bolder with his affections- he was a quick learner.

NSFW HEADCANONS 

Oooooh boy, figured we get here eventually.

Toby didn’t have kissing experience prior to meeting you, what makes you think he has any sexual experience?

He doubts masterbation counts. Fuck, he has alot of porn back at his main hideout- he has needs but no one to release them on. Sure- he's a proxy and there have been many female victims- but the thought of forcing himself on someone makes him sick- despite his twisted sense of morality.

Though, he is a bit of a voyeur if you're really asking. He stalks his victims, sometimes those victims will be busy knocking boots with one another- and you. 

He has tried to wipe that night from his mind- you were in the privacy of your bedroom, your curtains were closed but he was able to see all your actions through the crack of your curtain. He wanted to touch you down there as well and after a while of dating, you believed you were ready.

You told Toby to come over and when he was on his way, you got ready. You had a previous hunch he had seen you changing and massaging your sweet spot- although you had dealt with enough stalker business- the thought of Toby watching you? You would lie, it turned you on.

Imagine Toby’s face when he comes into your home and finds you on your bed, black lacy panties and bra, and when he stood there, you told him to stay. Spreading your legs, your fingers tracing your pussy through the thin silk of your underwear. You could hear his breath hitch before you snuck your fingers inside, playing with your clit as you stuck your fingers inside your heated walls.

Toby looked like a man in the desert, thirsty for water while you slipped a tit out of your bra, it pebbled at the cold air as you gave it a slight pinch, making your core tighten as you repeated a single word.

“Toby….Toby….oh Toby!”

You made him absolutely feral, he practically lunged at you, ripping your bra off your body as you went for your tits.

Toby loves your tits, if there were ever a perfect stress toy, if it would be them, they just fit so snuggly in his hands, he loves seeing the reactions you make as he pinches at your nipples, bites them, flicks at them with his tongue.

This boy has a lot of pent up energy, a lot of pent up libido, you were both each others’ first and you know how they say the first is the worst?  That couldn’t have been any more false. Toby had you dripping before sinking his cock inside you. Not only did you get super worked up after he bullied your titties- he wanted to taste your cunt. He always wondered what pussy tastes like.- he even said this to you as he pulled your hips up, his arms wrapped around your torso before going tongue first. He had your legs suspended in the air with the way he helped you and there was no escaping his grip. He was a man on a mission, his tongue wiggling around in your cunny like an alien object while you grabbed at your sheets.

Toby’s penis is a wonderful size and shape, six inches- a good width that curved upward, uncircumcised of course. Toby never thought much of his penis- he hated looking at it- there was a time where after gym class, the boys in the locker room stole his gym clothes and ripped his towel off him- he was a kid a time and he remember their jeers clearly- making fun of the size of his dick while some took photos. ((They’re dead now.))

He hesitated for a bit but when he finally started fucking you, he swore he saw stars in your eyes. “Yes Toby! Oh- fuck! Toby- you’re filling me up so good! Give me more Toby- please!”

He gained back a confidence he didn’t realise he had or needed.

Your first time was vanilla, just him on top of you while he fucked his cock back into your cunny over and over again as tears weld up in your eyes from the sheer fullness of him

With it, came a sort of dominance he displayed over you- he loved seeking you weak from pleasure- he loved your submission, the control he had over you.

“You're mine, do you understand… this little pussy belongs to me.” He would snarl in your ear while fingering your pussy. He can be quite mean, he likes to call you his slut while making you masterbate in front of him- you recently invested in a vibrator and you’ll sit there, legs spread and cum as many times as he wants- whether you're over stimulated or not, even go as far as to slap that pussy after its all red, swollen and dripping with yours and his spent.

When he comes to your home and you're doing ordinary things, you're the one incharge, he’s the one who can’t put a foot wrong, but in the bedroom, he’s in charge and you have to watch yourself. Speaking of submission, he loves seeing you tied up, he loves your tiny body against his. He’ll fuck you everywhere he can, on the bed, against the wall, on the floor, on the sick counter, in your shower. He even once got you outside of the grass where he fucked you into the dirt.

But he’s not entirely ruthless, he’ll run you a bath while you hydrate yourself with some water. Because of his CIPA, he doesn’t really feel hot or cold so one time, afterwards, he tried to put you in a bath- you screamed your head off because the water was too hot- but he’s gotten better at evening out the temperature. He’ll sit with you in the bath and wash your hair while your relax against his chest

He’ll change your sheets and dress you up in airy pajamas before tucking both himself and you into bed, big spooning you with his head buried in your neck.

“You're my home now (Y/n).... so please…. Don’t ever leave me.”

[deathbxnny]

Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)

I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!

The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader

I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33

Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.

You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.

And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.

》VI

"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.

It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.

Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.

Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.

She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.

"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."

You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.

》JINX

"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.

Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.

"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.

"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.

"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"

Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.

》CAITLYN

She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.

Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.

And this time she had finally succeeded.

Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.

"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.

"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.

You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."

You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.

Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.

A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.

[witchywithwhiskey]

🍬💖 Sweetheats Game 💖🍬

Ari Levinson

You Wish

I like how that could be sweet... or bitter.

better than the book

pairing: best friend's brother!ari levinson x female reader

summary: your best friend can't go with you to the romance bookstore having a post-Valentine's Day sale, so you end up on a day trip with her brother, who has plans to visit the hardware store in the same town. but when he crashes your book browsing and sees what you're interested in, he decides he needs to show you he's better than the book.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, protected sex, vaginal fingering, brief masturbation (m and f), nipple sucking, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, brief light degradation kink, aftercare, begging, teasing/banter, pet names (sunshine, gorgeous, baby), possessive behavior, feelings confessions, happy ending, referenced monsterfucking (it's in a book reader picks up/Ari buys for her)

word count: 9.0k

a/n: ahh Eralen, this was such a fun character and prompt combination, i hope it's ok the fic ended up being on the longer side 🫣 this was also partially inspired by a conversation i had with one of my coworkers (who i've known for 10 years and am friends with outside of work!) about the book Morning Glory Milking Farm by C.M. Nascosta, which makes a little guest appearance in this fic 🤭 anyway thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

“What’re ya reading, sunshine?”

The deep, delicious voice was familiar enough that you didn’t startle (much), but the honeyed tone of Ari Levinson definitely did distract you from the back of the book you’d been reading.

Glancing up at your best friend’s older brother, you found him wearing an easy grin. He was seemingly entirely at ease in the monster erotica section of the romance bookstore. 

For a moment, you could only look at Ari. 

His brown hair was swept back from his face, like he’d run his hands through it dozens of times already that day—which, you knew for a fact, he had. It was one of his habits, and you couldn’t say you minded, since it only served to highlight his handsomeness. 

Ari’s blue eyes were sparkling like the sun glinting off the sea, even in the unflattering fluorescents of the store, and his smile was as warm as a summer breeze. His beard was long and scruffy, like it had been for years, despite his mom and your best friend begging him to shave it. 

Secretly, you were glad he’d kept the beard. You liked it. It suited him somehow, and added to his already excessive amount of handsomeness and affable charm. 

Still, though Ari always seemed to be at ease no matter where he was, it was a bit surreal to see him in a romance bookstore, surrounded by everything from bodice rippers and dark mafia books to modern-set rom-coms and romantasy epics. Your brain couldn’t quite make sense of it.

But then, your brain couldn’t quite make sense of any of the events that had led to this moment. 

It had all started with a glass of wine at your best friend’s house (as most of the stories in you life did)…

Ari had been over at her house, fixing the sink, while you’d been catching up with your best friend over some wine and charcuterie. You’d already had a glass, so you might’ve been a little overexcited as you made a case for why she should join you on a day trip up the coast to the romance bookstore that was having a big post-Valentine’s Day sale.

Your friend had given you a sympathetic frown and told you she had plans. And then she’d turned to Ari and asked him if that was the same town that had a specialty hardware store he’d been wanting to go to. Ari had given his sister a strange look, but confirmed it was the same town.

Before you’d quite known what was happening, your best friend was finalizing the details for the day trip you were going to take with Ari, to the town with the romance bookstore and hardware store. 

You’d tried to stop her, you really had. You even tried appealing to Ari, telling him you were certain you could look at books much longer than he could look at hammers and screws and whatever else they had in a hardware store. 

You didn’t want him to get stuck waiting around for you.

“I’ll wait for you all day, sunshine,” Ari had said in his low, deep voice, that easy grin on his face.

Despite the fact that you were sitting in your best friend’s kitchen, hearing Ari say those words, in that voice, had butterflies fluttering in your belly, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little in your seat. It wasn’t until you’d looked away from Ari’s gorgeous blue eyes and taken a sip of wine that you’d been able to get yourself under control. 

But then your best friend had caught your eye, an ecstatic and triumphant look on her face, and you’d had to roll your eyes.

For years, your best friend had not-so-secretly been convinced that Ari was in love with you, and she’d spent half that time trying to convince you to marry him so that you could be sisters. But you just couldn’t see it. 

Sure, in your heart of hearts, you harbored feelings for your best friend’s older brother. He was charming and friendly and thoughtful and kind—and he was hotter than any other man you’d ever seen in real life. But you’d never gotten the impression he felt anything aside from platonic fondness for you. 

Even when he called you ‘sunshine’ and made comments about being willing to wait around for you all day, you didn’t put much stock in it. Ari was known for being a flirt, and you’d seen him make plenty of women swoon, only to go about his day as if he had no idea of the effect he had. 

Unfortunately for you, on that evening in your best friend’s kitchen, Ari had taken his sister’s side, and faced with the stubborn determination of both Levinson siblings, there was nothing you could do. 

So you’d woken up early that Saturday morning, donned a dress and a jacket to match the unseasonably warm February weather, and taken care to do your makeup and hair just the way you liked. Nerves jittered anxiously in your belly, and you’d had to keep reminding yourself that your day trip with Ari was not a date. 

But when he’d pulled up in front of your house in his old truck, he’d hopped out and rounded the front, helping you into the passenger seat. That had made your heart race enough, but then Ari had gotten back into the driver’s seat and handed you a to-go cup of coffee and a plain, white paper bag with breakfast inside.

Of course Ari Levinson had gotten your coffee and breakfast order exactly right. And all you could do was murmur a quick, “Thank you.”

For the rest of the drive north up the coast, Ari had remained pretty quiet, leaving you to your thoughts while soft rock played on the radio. 

You were grateful for the peace. You weren’t exactly the most talkative person, especially in the morning, and it was nice to enjoy the scenery and your coffee without any awkward conversation.

Somehow, you knew Ari had also known this about you, which had made your already tangled thoughts get even more snarled. 

Ari was going so far out of his way to be attentive and considerate, and though you’d never spent much time alone with him, it was getting harder and harder to think your best friend was totally delusional about him having feelings for you.

Once you’d reached your destination, Ari had parked along the main street and walked you to the bookstore. Before parting ways, he’d pointed out the hardware store where he’d be in case you needed him. Then you’d gone inside the bookstore and let yourself get lost in the shelves. 

At least, until Ari had snuck up on you in the moster erotica section.

You already had a sizable pile of books in one arm, and even you were hitting your limit of browsing, but you’d been considering adding another to the pile. One that had quite a tantalizing title and a provocative cover. 

Biting back a smirk, you responded to Ari’s question by lifting the book in your hand so he could see the front. 

Although you tried to act cool and collected, heat blazed in your cheeks as you thought about what he was seeing—a classic-style romance cover, but with one major difference to old-school bodice rippers. 

There was, of course, a woman wearing a dress, the neckline slipping low on her breasts. But instead of being joined on the cover by a man, she was clutched against the big, hulking chest of a minotaur.

“Morning Glory Milking—jesus christ, sunshine, what kinda shit are you reading?” Ari scoffed, but he snagged the book out of your hand, flipping it over so he could skim the summary on the back. 

When his eyes flicked up, catching yours in a way that you knew meant he expected an answer, you had a harder time holding in your smirk, but you managed to shrug carelessly.

“Minotaur porn, obviously,” you answered, deadpan. 

Shock flitted across Ari’s face, and you couldn’t help but toss your head back with a laugh. 

Your humor only served to make Ari mutter unhappily about the impossible mechanics of a woman fucking a minotaur. A dark look settled across his expression, like a cloud blotting out the sun. 

“I bet I could get you off better than this bullshit,” Ari grumbled a little louder as he finished reading the summary and handed the book back to you.

When his words registered, you froze. Your fingers, which had been curling around the edge of the book, stilled, and a gasp tumbled freely from your lips. 

For a brief, awful moment, you thought you might’ve misheard him. But then you forced your gaze up, meeting his eye.

Deep in the bright blue of Ari’s gaze, there was something you’d never seen before—something that caught your eye like the sun glinting off treasure beneath the sea. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked closer. The emotion swirling in Ari’s eyes was as dangerous as a rip tide, threatening to pull you under, but you found, for once, that you didn’t want to pull away and save yourself. You wanted to dive into whatever you were seeing in Ari’s gaze.

Laughter sounded closeby and the spell of the moment was broken. You took the book from Ari and added it to your pile, shaking out your shoulders and trying to brush off the intensity of the look the two of you had shared. 

If that look, that emotion, in Ari’s gaze had been a rip tide, you were running from it now. Cocking a hip, you settled your pile of books on top of it, giving Ari a doubtful look as you scoffed. 

“You wish.”

An almost predatory smirk curved Ari’s mouth and he took a step closer, then another. 

He moved slowly, and yet, before you knew what was happening, his big body was looming over yours, caging you in between his broad chest and the hard bookshelves at your back.

Lifting one hand, Ari settled it on a shelf above your head, ducking down so his eyes were level with yours. 

“Would you like me to prove it to you, sunshine?” His voice was a low, delicious rumble that trickled down your spine and settled heavily between your thighs. “Would you like me to show you just how good I can get you off?”

Your thoughts were nothing more than cotton candy clouds floating aimlessly across your mind, so all you could do was let your instincts take over and respond honestly. You nodded your head dazedly, blinking up at Ari like he was the sun and you were desperate to bask in his warmth.

That smirk on Ari’s face deepened, softening a little with an affection so tender, it felt like it could cut straight through all the walls around your heart if you let it. In that moment, you were eager to let it. 

“I’m gonna need words, sunshine, tell me what you want,” Ari murmured in his deep voice, his words encouraging. At some point, his other hand had slipped onto your hip, and he squeezed you gently, urging you to do as he said.

Although a part of you knew you were still in a decently crowded bookstore, surrounded by shoppers all looking to take advantage of the shop’s post-Valentine’s Day sale, a larger part felt like you and Ari were the only two people in the world. 

All you could focus on was him, his warmth and his closeness, the scent of him—salt and sunshine—surrounding you like the most perfect cozy blanket. 

Your heart yearned with the desire to lean into him, to revel in the comfort he offered, while another part of you ached with the hunger to take him up on his offer, to see just how good he could get you off.

One of those needs seemed easier to satisfy than the other, so you tipped your head back and let your hand rest on his chest. Curling your fingers in the soft fabric of Ari’s worn flannel shirt, you held his gaze as you spoke.

“I want you to show me, Ari, now—please,” you whispered, tacking on the last word desperately, as if you thought good manners would get you what you wanted. Thankfully, it seemed to do the trick. 

Ari’s eyes darkened, churning like the sea during a storm as they raked over your face. It was like he was searching for something, but whether it was doubt or hesitance or something else entirely, you didn’t know. 

After a moment, he nodded as if to himself, seeming satisfied by whatever he saw in your expression.

“You got it, sunshine.”

Then Ari was pulling away, taking the scent of salt and sun with him. You might’ve let out a little protesting whine if his big, calloused palm hadn’t skimmed down your arm and taken your hand in his, fingers tangling with yours as he began leading you toward the front of the store.

Your feet tripped happily after Ari, your mind wandering a couple dozen steps ahead and wondering what exactly you’d gotten yourself into with your best friend’s brother. Was he really going to prove he could get you off better than some fictional guy in a book? Why did he even care? 

Since you were in a daze of lust and questions, you didn’t notice Ari coming to an abrupt stop, and you crashed lightly into him. He chuckled softly and eased the stack of books from your arm. 

Before you could process what he was doing and protest, he’d pulled out his wallet and paid for all the books—even the minotaur one—then scooped them off the counter to skip the step of having the cashier bag them. 

Ari bid the bookseller a brisk, “Have a good day,” as his fingers tangled in yours once again and he tugged you toward the door. Your mouth opened and closed as you trailed along with him, trying to find the words for what you wanted to say.

It wasn’t until the crisp February air hit your cheeks—still unseasonably warm for the winter month, but chilly compared to the warmth of the store—that your mind cleared a little. 

Ari was already striding down the street toward his truck, your books tucked under one of his thick arms while his fingers kept you tethered together. You took a few quick steps, catching up to Ari’s long gait, and curled your body around his arm, trying not to get distracted by the way his hard biceps flexed against your soft breasts. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Ari, I can pay for my own books,” you said, a little breathless as you fought to keep up with Ari’s long stride and quick pace. 

He tried to slow, glancing down at you with a little crease of worry between his dark brows, but you only pushed him on. You were just as eager to get back to his truck as he was, and it was only a little bit further down the block so you could keep up the fast pace.

Ari was silent, a serious look on his face, until the two of you got to his truck. There, he opened the passenger door, stowed your pile of books in the small backseat, and helped you up into the cab. Methodically, he secured your seatbelt across your lap. 

You were beginning to think he wouldn’t respond to your comment about buying your own books, but once you were settled in the passenger seat of his truck, Ari fixed you with a stubborn look you’d seen only a handful of times before—including when he’d decided he was taking you on this day trip.

Ari’s hands were braced on either side of you, one on the back of the seat and the other beside your hip, his body effectively caging you in against the leather seat. But just like in the bookstore, it only made you feel as if you were the only two people in the world, as if something might blossom between the two of you that became something real.

“When you’re my girl, you’re gonna have to get used to me buying you things,” Ari said, pausing to let his words sink in.

The breath in your lungs froze and your heart stuttered in your chest, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. 

But when he simply stared at you, that obstinate look in his eye, you knew he meant what he’d said. You knew he had every intention of asking you to be his girl. And the fact that he was so sure you’d say yes was intoxicatingly hot. 

It took you a long moment to realize Ari was waiting for you to respond, so you nodded mutely, showing your understanding. His eyes watched your face closely, taking your shock in stride, before leaning in so his breath brushed against your cheek. 

“Especially your filthy, smutty books,” Ari rumbled. The warmth of his beard was so close to your face, you wanted to close the distance and nuzzle into it even as your body burned from his dirty words. “Someone’s gonna have to take care’a ya when they get you all hot and bothered—and it’s going to be me.”

A soft, wanton moan slipped from your lips before you could bite it back, and Ari chuckled, the sound going straight between your thighs and making you squirm. You were seconds away from curling your fingers in his warm flannel shirt and pulling him into the truck on top of you, but before you could, he pulled away.

Ari’s beard rasped against your cheek as he moved back, and you knew he’d done it on purpose to tease you because of the entirely too self-satisfied smirk on his face as he straightened. You pouted up at him, but he only continued chuckling, closing the door of his truck with a firm snap. 

He left you squirming and practically panting in the passenger seat while he rounded the front of his truck and hopped in. The grin on his face was easy, and his movements were loose and relaxed, but there was a bulge in his jeans he couldn’t hide and you knew he was just as affected as you, which made him even more inexplicably hotter.

If it wasn’t for the seatbelt Ari had secured across your front, you would’ve slid across the leather bench seat of his truck and curled into his side. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself for long, your fingers pawing at the sizable bulge pressing against his zipper, teasing him while he drove…

In the long moments it took you to drag yourself from your lustful thoughts and find your tongue again, Ari maneuvered out of the parking spot along main street and merged into the light traffic of the quaint seaside town. 

He was driving north again, you noticed, not toward the town where you both lived, which was south along the coast. 

But you hardly had the capacity to wonder over where exactly he was taking you—you only hoped it was private enough for him to show you how much better than your book he could get you off—when you were still so stuck on the words he’d said and the surety in his voice when he’d said them.

“When I’m your girl?” you asked, your voice coming out small and hesitant in the quiet of the truck cab. You’d meant to sound accusatory, but it seemed your yearning heart was in control of your tongue, and she needed to know what exactly he wanted. “You want me to be your girl, Ari?” 

The truck came to a stop at one of the few stoplights in town, and Ari looked over at you, a series of emotions flitting across his face so fast, you could hardly recognize them all. There was surprise and skepticism, followed quickly by exasperation and warm affection.

“Yes, sunshine, I want you to be my girl,” Ari said plainly, his eyes holding yours so you could see the genuine honesty in his gaze. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The light changed, but Ari didn’t look away from you. He held your gaze as you processed his words, your mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out. 

What could you say? You’d assumed for years that Ari was just being nice to you, that he flirted with everyone, that he didn’t have any real feelings for you. But you’d been wrong, so very wrong. 

“I didn’t want to pressure you, or come between you and my sister,” Ari went on, a slight panicked look creeping into his eyes the longer you stayed quiet. “But I thought you knew—my sister has been anything but subtle about trying to set us up.” 

He gestured vaguely around the cab of the truck, and a sudden understanding crashed over you like a tidal wave. 

“Oh.” It was all you could manage. “Oh.”

Memories crashed through your mind like one wave breaking right after the other, and you were reminded of all the times your best friend had finagled you and Ari into the same setting. 

There was that birthday dinner she’d hosted for him, where you somehow ended up sitting next to him, despite the table being filled with his friends and family. And the summer barbecue when you and Ari had been assigned tasks that kept you in the kitchen away from the rest of the party.

Even the evening you’d spent with her when you’d mentioned the bookstore sale, she could’ve rescheduled to a night when Ari wasn’t fixing her sink. Or she could’ve changed the plans so you were hosting that night. 

There were dozens of other instances you could think of, all of which you’d thought nothing of at the time. But it was so obvious when you looked at it all together. You felt a little ashamed that you hadn’t noticed the extent of your best friend’s matchmaking. But Ari clearly had.

“She always insisted you felt the same,” Ari admitted, his body still turned toward you in the driver’s seat, the truck still stopped at the light, which had cycled back to red. “She told me I just needed to be patient, but I thought she was overestimating how you felt about me.”

“She wasn’t,” you said, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them. But you didn’t have a chance to feel embarrassed, because a wide, pleased grin spread across Ari’s face, brightening the small cab of his truck. 

“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about her being unhappy that her brother’s dating her best friend,” Ari joked, shooting you a wink before turning back to the wheel. 

The light switched over to green and he turned at the intersection, using one hand on the wheel. Ari lay his other hand on the middle of the bench seat, palm up. 

It was a clear invitation, and, with a sense of near-breathless freedom, you realized you didn’t have to feign disinterest in him anymore. You could take his hand because he liked you. He wanted you to be his girl. And you wanted him to be your guy.

The callouses on Ari’s hand were rough against the softness of your skin. He was a contractor, someone who worked with his hands, and you enjoyed the evidence of it. You liked how steady and strong his hand felt as your fingers twined with his, and how warm his palm was against yours.

For a long moment, you and Ari sat in silence, his truck cruising along a road that ran beside the rocky coast. With the ocean on one side, and Ari on the other, you felt a happy smile pull at your lips. 

You tugged Ari’s hand a little closer and sighed, wishing you could curl up against his side and watch the ocean. The only thing that could make the moment better was if you were surrounded by Ari’s warmth, instead of only feeling it through your joined hands.

Ari heard your sigh and squeezed your hand.

“You still up for this, sunshine?” he asked, drawing your attention away from the ocean and back to his handsome face. 

His hand was resting easily on the steering wheel, but his brows were pulled low over his eyes, a crease of concern between them. His gaze kept darting toward you, and you realized he must not’ve seen your smile with your head turned away, and he’d misread your sigh.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he said quickly. “I could take you home, take you out properly, then see where the night leads us…” Ari’s voice trailed off suggestively, though there was still an undercurrent of worry in his tone. 

You let a laugh fall from your lips, already shaking your head vehemently. “No, no, I want this now, please,” you said firmly, tugging Ari’s hand closer like you were worried he was going to pull away. Staring down at your joined hands on your thigh, you went on, your voice quieter, “I’ve wanted you for a long time, too, Ari.”

Ari squeezed your fingers in his, the gesture comforting and grateful all at once, as his shoulders relaxed and he drove on. The road began to curve away from the ocean, so you found yourself watching him, memorizing the profile of his face.  

A few minutes later, he pulled onto a street lined with beachside cottages and tall trees that would be lush with greenery in the summer, shading the sidewalks that led toward the ocean. At the end of the street, there was a narrow road that led between two large sand dunes cresting higher than the truck.

On the other side, there was a small, deserted parking lot overlooking the beach and the ocean. Faintly, you could hear the waves crashing on the near-distant shore, and their comforting rumble grew louder when Ari pulled the truck into a spot at the very edge of the lot and turned off the engine. 

For a moment, you got lost in staring out at the water, the golden afternoon sunlight sparkling off the whitewater of the crashing waves. You’d lived your whole life by the ocean, but its beauty never failed to enchant you. 

In fact, you were so transfixed by the view, you hardly noticed when Ari reached over and unbuckled your seatbelt. 

Your gaze was only pulled from the sight of the sea when Ari’s big hands grabbed your hips and he hauled you across the worn leather seat to press into his side. 

Instantly, you leaned into him, breathing in the scent of salt and sunshine that always clung to him.

Blinking slowly up at Ari from under your lashes, you took a moment to appreciate the handsomeness of his face up close. You could see the creases in his tanned skin, the evidence of aging that made him so much hotter, and the light dusting of freckles across his nose. 

His bright blue sparkling eyes were like tiny oceans, churning with lust and desire and affection—all for you—while his mouth was curved into a slight smile, nestled into his invitingly soft brown beard. Even his hair, streaked with golden blond, looked perfect in that moment. 

As you looked at him, Ari’s expression softened, his smile deepening and his blue eyes darkening. 

“Keep looking at me like that, sunshine,” Ari rumbled, his voice dipping low in a way that had your belly swooping and your core heating. His calloused palm smoothed over your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “And I’m liable to give you more than a few books and a couple orgasms—I’ll give you the whole sea.”

A soft laugh bubbled up your throat and spilled from your lips. You turned your head and pressed a kiss into Ari’s palm before looking back at him. Your hands reached for him, fingers sinking deep into his beard as you cupped his face.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you said somberly, feeling the corner of your mouth flutter as you tried to hold back a smile. “But it’s a sweet thought, Ari.”

“I’ll show you just how sweet I can be,” Ari grumbled a second before he ducked down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but sweet. 

The months and years Ari had been holding back, restraining himself from touching you, from kissing you, were unleashed all at once the moment his lips brushed against yours. His deep, guttural groan rumbled in his throat, sending sparks of pleasure cascading through your body as you opened for him, welcoming him in with just as much fervor.

Ari’s tongue plunged into your mouth as soon as your lips parted, scattering your thoughts on the ocean breeze, leaving you to revel in the pure, feral feeling of him. You were nothing but blazing desire, and a deep, throbbing ache needing to be filled—to be filled by Ari and only Ari.

Your hands couldn’t stay still, moving between carding through Ari’s hair, twisting your fingers in his beard and curling around the collar of his thick flannel shirt. You kissed him harder, just as greedy for him as he was for you, and pulled him closer, until you were bent so far backward, you were nearly laying down on the bench seat.

“Fuck, sunshine,” Ari cursed when he wrenched his mouth away from yours, nipping and kissing and sucking his way down your neck. His strong arms were wrapped around your back, holding you tight to his chest while you panted and squirmed. “I’ve wanted you for so long, I’m not gonna last, but I promise I’ll make it up to you—I’ll fuck you better than that fictional minotaur, I swear.”

An incredulous laugh burst from your lips before you could hold it back and you tugged on Ari’s hair until he lifted up enough that you could meet his eye and he could see the truth in yours when you said, “It’s already so much better, Ari, because it’s real and it’s you.”

Surprise and something tender flickered across Ari’s face a second before he closed the distance between you, slanting his mouth to yours for another breathtaking kiss, his lips working against yours so covetously, it stole the air from your lungs. 

When he pulled away, you were panting for breath, his chest heaving with his own need for air, and when you locked eyes, a frisson of lust passed between you. Your hands reached for one another, your fingers equally greedy as they tugged at the clothes that were suddenly grievously in the way of what you both wanted. 

“Need this off now, sunshine,” Ari rumbled as he pawed at your dress, his voice so deep and rough, it was nearly a growl. “Need to be inside you—fuck, c’mon gorgeous, help me out here.” His fingers were fumbling around the bodice, looking for a zipper and not realizing there wasn’t one.

Huffing a laugh, you shrugged out of your jacket, then grabbed the skirt of your dress and tugged it off over your head, Ari’s hands skimming up your sides, then your arms, and he helped you. You tossed the garment into the backseat and turned back to Ari, who was sitting there stunned by the sight of your bare body.

You felt his hungry gaze like a hot caress as it swept down your form, lingering on the way your tits bounced slightly in your bra from your heavy breathing, before continuing down over your soft tummy and settled on the spot where your thighs were pressed together.

Ari’s gaze lingered for a long, hot moment, the expression on his face contorting into something feral, the twisting of his mouth telling you he was seriously considering burying his face between your thighs and not coming up for air for a long, long time. 

But then you whined and reached for him, your fingers twisting in the front of his flannel shirt, and that seemed to snap him from whatever spell your body had put him under. His big hands skimmed up your thighs, groping your soft flesh with greedy fingers while he leaned in for another kiss.

It took some maneuvering in the tight quarters of his truck, but Ari helped you rearrange yourself on the bench seat so you could spread your thighs around his thick waist. As if he couldn’t control himself, his eyes dropped hungrily to the thin cotton panties covering your pussy, and he groaned loudly when he saw the wet spot you’d already left.

“Sunshine,” he rumbled, desire thick in his tone as he dragged his darkened blue eyes up to yours. “When I get ya in my bed, I’m going to feast on this pussy until you’re screaming my name so loud no one will ever question if you’re my girl again—least of all you.”

Ari’s eyes were dark pools of lust, his words so honest and filthy, you felt your breath catch in your throat, desperate arousal heating your blood. You were nodding your head before you even noticed yourself moving, your lips forming the words, “Yes, please,” and saying it in such a sweet tone that Ari chuckled in amusement.

“Always so polite, sunshine,” Ari teased lightly, ducking forward and sinking his teeth into your lip, biting down until you moaned loudly into his mouth. “Let’s see if you’re still so polite when your cunt is filled with my cock, huh?”

“Please, Ari, please,” you begged, his words driving your need impossibly higher, until you were clawing at the buttons of his flannel, half ripping them through the holes in your impatience to get the shirt off him. 

As soon as enough buttons were undone for his head to fit through, Ari grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it into the backseat. You had only a moment to admire Ari, thick and barrel-chested, filling out his white t-shirt, before he tugged that off too. 

Then his chest was bare in all its glory.

A soft sound of awe slipped from your lips, and your fingers pressed to his heated skin, tracing the ridges of his muscles and threading through the thick, dark hair dusted across his pecs. He had a thin layer of softness padding his muscles, and your fingertips sank into it greedily. 

A smile curved your lips when your nails raked over his golden skin, delighting in his tortured groan.

“Panties off now, sunshine, or ‘m gonna blow in my briefs like a fucking teenager,” Ari growled, gently batting your hands away so he could work open the button of his jeans. There was a thick, hard bulge pushing against his zipper, and your body warmed as you watched him breathlessly.

With your gaze fixed on Ari’s nimble fingers, you quickly undid your bra and tugged it off, tossing it in the backseat. Then you gathered your knees to your chest and pulled your panties down and off your legs. Those, too, joined the pile of clothing in the backseat of Ari’s truck.

At the same time, Ari shoved his jeans and navy blue boxer briefs as far down his thick, hairy thighs as they could go. But you weren’t looking at his hands anymore. Not when his hard, heavy cock bounced free, stealing the breath from your lungs when you saw how big and thick he was.

Ari gripped his stiff length in his hand and pumped it slowly, his thumb brushing over the tip and gathering the precum there, smoothing it down his shaft in a practiced motion. 

It was mesmerizing, watching Ari jerk himself off slowly, making your slit grow even wetter. Unable to sit still, one of your hands trailed down your body, your fingers sliding between your drenched folds and finding the aching button of your clit.

A rough, rumbling sound came from Ari’s chest when you moaned at the brush of your finger against yoru clit, and you finally tore your eyes away from his cock. Glancing up at his face, your sucked in a gasp at the sheer, naked hunger in Ari’s expression. 

His blue eyes were as dark as the depths of the ocean, and he was looking at you so gluttonously, like he craved you from the bottom of his soul, that your heart thudded in your chest. You felt your own desire reflected in his expression, and it suddenly wasn’t good enough to simply look at him, you needed to feel him.

The fingers of your other hand reached for Ari, and that broke him from the enchantment your naked body had put on him. His fist squeezed around the base of his cock and he shook his head, his free hand pushing his hair back as it flew in his face. 

Ari snatched your hand from between your thighs, licking the taste of you from your skin, his eyes sliding closed briefly. Then he pressed soft kisses to your knuckles and fingertips, his heated eyes finding yours. 

“Just gimme a sec to find a condom,” he said in a husky voice, dropping your hand on your belly as he reached for the glove compartment of his truck. 

Instead of watching him fumble through the junk in there, your hands played idly with your tits, groping your soft flesh and teasing your nipples with flicks of your fingers. All the while, you watched Ari’s face, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth when his eyes kept drifting to your chest, the hand around his cock stroking himself again.

Ari cursed at himself and dragged his eyes away from your tits, rededicating himself to his task. After another brief moment of searching, he found an unopened box of condoms, tore it open and made quick work of the foil package before rolling the rubber down his hard length.

While he fisted the base of his cock, Ari slipped two fingers into your tight heat, your pussy so wet you took him easily. A moan tumbled from your lips and your spine arched up off the leather seat, your hips bearing down on his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you. 

“Ready for me, sunshine?” Ari asked in a deep, rumbling voice that was thick with his own desire. He added a third finger to your dripping hole, stretching you enough to take his thick girth. “Ready for the cock that’ll ruin you for your fictional minotaur?”

At his words, you let out a decidedly impolite snort, the sound devolving into helpless giggles at both Ari’s ridiculous question and your indelicate response. 

In retaliation, Ari thrust his fingers deeper inside you, stroking against a spot that had you moaning helplessly, squirming and writhing beneath him. Your thighs spread as wide was they could in his truck, while your hips wriggled greedily for more.

“Ari, please, I’m ready—I need you,” you cried, reaching for him and curling your fingers in his beard, pulling him down on top of you. Your mouth brushed against his in a teasing, breathless kiss, and then you were moaning and arching into him. “Please, ruin me with your big, fat cock, Ari—make forget all about that fictional minotaur.”

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a snicker, and Ari’s chest heaved with an answering chuckle. Laughter spilled from both of you, tumbling past each other’s lips and filling the truck with the sounds your amusement. 

When his laugh finally died out, Ari’s mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. Then he pressed his forehead to yours, the feeling of his warmth and the comfort of his familiar scent filling you with a happiness unlike any you’d ever known.

“You’re never going let me live this down, are you?” he asked on another laugh, his head ducking down so he could nuzzle your cheek with his beard, making you giggle as it tickled your skin.

“No, never,” you confirmed with a shake of your head, another peal of laughter spilling from your lips. “But I promise not to tell anyone you were jealous of a made-up minotaur in a smutty book.”

Ari huffed a reluctant laugh, distracting you momentarily when he pulled his fingers from your pussy, replacing them with the thick tip of his cock. He pressed against your dripping hole, making you moan helplessly.

“Guess I just have to make good on all my promises then,” he muttered, shunting his hips forward and pushing inside you a couple inches. “Gonna have to show you how good I can make you feel, huh, sunshine?” He pulled back and thrust forward, pressing deeper and splitting you open on his thick cock.

“Oh god, Ari,” you moaned, nails raking up his sides as you hooked your legs around his hips. The heels of your feet dug into the thick muscle of his thighs as you urged him on. “More, deeper, please, Ari, please!”

“You really are always so polite, aren’t you, sunshine?” Ari teased, his voice filled with laughter and desire, even as he gave you what you begged for. He pushed in to the hilt, burying himself so quickly in your cunt, it made you gasp.

He felt so good—so big and thick and stretching you so perfectly. It was all you could do to curl your fingers in his soft brown hair and cling to him, your pussy pulsing around his throbbing cock like your body never wanted to let him go.

Ari’s chest heaved against yours, the firm feeling of his muscles and the soft hair on his pecs teasing your nipples deliciously. He pressed down on top of you, his arms digging beneath your back and holding you tight in the cradle of his big, broad body. 

“S’good,” he slurred against your cheek, his breath hot as it fanned across your skin, making you shiver. He grunted when your pussy squeezed him tighter, sucking him deeper into your heat. “How’s m’cock feel, sunshine?”

“Sooo good, so big and thick, filling me up sooo good, Ari,” you babbled, your thighs squeezing his waist, fingers tugging impatiently on his hair. “Fuck me, Ari, please, I need it—make me feel good, please, Ari, Ari, Ari.” 

“Fuck yeah, gorgeous, you sound so pretty saying my name,” Ari groaned, pressing messy kisses along your jaw before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. “Gonna make you feel good, gonna give you everything you could ever dream of—I promise you, sunshine, promise you.”

Ari’s words trailed off as his mouth found yours again. He kissed you, deep and filthy, while he fucked you slow and sweet. He was pulling out until only the tip of his cock remained in your tight cunt before pushing inside you slowly, deliberately, making you feel every thick inch of him filling you up over and over again.

You could feel your release building deep inside you, the pleasurable tension coiling tight in your belly, but you needed more. You needed it harder and faster, you needed Ari pounding into you, fucking you rough enough that you’d be feeling him long after he’d made you cum.

“Ari, please, fuck me,” you whined in his ear, fingers twisting desperately in his hair, your hips lifting up off the leather bench seat to meet his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the truck. “I want it hard and rough—show me I’m yours, Ari, make me yours.”

“Fuck, sunshine, ya gotta filthy mouth on you, don’t ya?” Ari growled, picking up his pace until he was fucking you like a feral animal. “It’s all that dirty smut, isn’t it, turning you into a needy little slut, huh, gorgeous?”

Ari’s hands trailed down your back, grabbing your ass and digging his strong fingers into your soft flesh, holding you still while he rutted into you. Your fingers let go of his hair, reaching up and pushing against the inside of the passenger door, loud cries of pleasure and slutty moans falling from your lips unabashedly. 

“You want me to fuck this pretty pussy till she’s mine, baby?” Ari went on, his breath hot and heavy next to your ear as he kept up his relentless pace, sending you careening toward your release. “You want me to fuck you so good, you’ll never forget who you belong to?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh god, please, Ari,” you cried breathlessly, your voice high and keening, your body writhing beneath Ari’s broad form. You were barreling toward the edge of bliss, Ari’s hammering cock shoving you closer with every ruthless thrust. 

“Fuck yeah, sunshine, beg me to make you mine—you beg so pretty and polite for such a slut, baby.”

“Please, Ari, make me cum, please, make me cum all over your cock, make me yours, Ari, please, please, please,” you babbled, your words devolving into a sob as Ari fucked you harder, rougher, grinding his cock deep into your cunt until you were screaming in pleasure. 

“Cum for me, sunshine,” Ari growled, hilting his cock deep inside you and grinding his hips so your clit rubbed against the base of him. “You’re mine—all fucking mine—now cum all over my cock like my perfect, gorgeous girl.” 

The tension in your core snapped suddenly and you shattered apart, coming with a scream that was drowned out between the crashing ocean and cresting sand dunes of the deserted beach. Pleasure washed over you in unending waves, your body trembling beneath Ari’s rutting form.

He followed you over the edge a moment later, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muffling his grunting, pleasured groans in your skin as he thrust wildly into your spasming cunt. You felt him twitching and throbbing deep inside you, the feeling making you shiver with another wave of pleasure as he found his release in your body.

For long, delightful moments, you and Ari writhed together, your hips rocking idly while his were grinding deeper into you. His mouth kissed up your neck and along your jaw, finding your lips and drinking down your soft, pleasured cries like they were water in a barren desert. 

“Tell me, sunshine,” Ari rumbled into your mouth, his beard rasping against your cheeks and making the corners of your lips tip up in a smile. “Was that better than the book?”

You made a soft, questioning sound, nipping at Ari’s full lower lip before licking away whatever sting your teeth had left. He grunted his pleasure before responding to your unasked question.

“The minotaur book—did I get you off better than the minotaur book?” 

A surprised laugh tumbled from your lips, but when Ari didn’t join in on your mirth, you eased him away so you could look into your eyes. His gaze was serious and expectant, which only made you laugh again, incredulously.

“Yes, Ari, you were way better than the book, you impossible man,” you said, muttering the last three words with affectionate exasperation as you pulled him down for another kiss.

When he pulled away a moment later, Ari was grinning from ear to ear, looking entirely too pleased with himself. 

“Told ya I’d be better,” he quipped, making you tip your head back and laugh. Ari took the opportunity to bury his face in your neck, kissing your delicate skin until you were letting out breathy little moans.

Eventually, though, the chilly February air encroached on your blissful, post-orgasm haze, seeping into the truck cab and brushing against your damp, cooling skin. When you shivered from the cold more than his beard, Ari pushed up onto his knees, gently easing his softening length from your body and made quick work of disposing of the condom.

While you sat up, he grabbed his thick flannel shirt from the backseat and wrapped it around your shoulders, helping your arms into the sleeves and buttoning it up your chest—after giving each of your tits a quick farewell kiss and promising to pay them more attention next time. 

You giggled at his silly antics, but were grateful when he buttoned up the shirt almost to the top, encasing you in the warmth of the soft fabric, the scent of salt and sun still clinging to it. You turned your face into the collar, and breathed in deeply, humming happily when the smell of Ari filled your lungs.

Ari had paused to watch you, his expression a little dumbfounded, but when your eyes met his, he smiled that easy grin of his, though there was a warmth and a softness to it you’d never seen before. There was also a tenderness in his gaze you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of seeing.

Before you could get lost in each other again, Ari reached into the backseat and pulled out a pair of clean sweatpants, helping you into those as well before he redressed himself in his jeans and white t-shirt. From there, you both pulled on your shoes, and Ari got out, rounding the truck to help you down. 

While he jogged to the closest garbage can to throw out the condom, you made your way into the beach restroom off the parking lot, thanking the universe that it was open and clean, even during the offseason. You quickly went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up, finding Ari waiting outside to help you back into the truck.

When he hopped into the driver’s seat, you scooted across the bench seat and tucked yourself into his side, looking up at him with a stubborn expression on your face. 

Instead of trying to argue that you should sit in the passenger seat, Ari dug a seatbelt out from between the seat and the back. It was only a lap belt, but he insisted on buckling you in for your safety, then wrapped his arm around your shoulders and held you close while he pulled out of the beach parking lot.

The drive back down the coast was much different to the one you’d taken that morning. You and Ari never stopped talking, starting with you telling him about the books he’d bought for you, and him explaining what he’d wanted at the hardware store in town. 

By the time Ari’s truck neared your house, you were arguing good-naturedly about where to go on your first official date. 

The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting your little neighborhood in golden light as Ari pulled his truck to a stop in front of your house. You were happy to be home after so many hours spent in Ari’s truck, but you were reluctant to disentangle yourself from his warm, steady form.

“You can’t make a new home in my truck, sunshine,” Ari teased, putting his vehicle in park and tipping your face toward his. He brushed a devastatingly sweet kiss to your lips. “But if you ask me nicely, maybe I’ll come inside for a bit.”

You could feel his smirk pressed against the corner of your mouth and it made you hungry for him all over again. Still, you couldn’t help but tease him back.

“Oh please, Ari, won’t you come inside? It’d make me oh so happy,” you gushed in an exaggeratedly simpering voice. You were rewarded for your performance with a deep chuckle rumbling in Ari’s chest. 

“Anything for my girl,” Ari rumbled, his voice deep and delicious. Then he kissed you harder, deeper, wringing a moan from the depths of your throat. 

“Mm,” you murmured dazedly, chasing his lips for another kiss when he tried to pull away. “And you’re my guy, right, Ari?” you asked, you voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m yours, sunshine,” he promised without hesitation, sealing it with a kiss that you couldn’t help but get lost in.

It was a long while before the two of you extricated yourselves from each other and got out of the truck. Ari carried your clothes and books, while you dug in your bag for your keys. 

The two of you had barely gotten into the house and put your stuff down before you were kissing again, tumbling onto the couch in your living room and shedding your clothes. Thankfully, Ari had grabbed the box of condoms from his truck, and you made good use of another. 

After, the two of you threw together a quick dinner in your kitchen, then curled up on the couch under one of your warm throw blankets. 

You wanted to start reading one of the books you’d gotten that day, and when you suggested the two of you could read your minotaur book together, Ari had shot you a wicked grin. He agreed—on the condition that you sat on his lap, keeping his cock warm while you took turns reading it out loud to each other.

Although you’d expected to get through at least one chapter before one of you gave in and threw the book onto the coffee table, you were barely a few pages in when Ari plucked it from your hands and set it aside. 

But you couldn’t complain, not when he was spreading your thighs wider across his lap and bouncing you on his cock while he sucked your tits.

For the rest of the evening, Ari Levinson showed you just how much better than the book he was, making you forget all about the filthy smut you read and giving you the best, most earth-shattering orgasms of your life while cradling you in his arms like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

When you finally curled up in bed together, you had a smile on your face, ready to spend the rest of your life with your best friend’s brother, who also happened to be the love of your life.

sweethearts game masterlist

[eunnieboo]

IYHM ask replies! (2/3)

🌸 @csevet asked:

hi my copy of iyhm just came in and my fiancee and i snuggled up and read the whole thing cover to cover and CRIED!!! i love when lesbians 💕💞💝💗💝💗💘💞💖💗💝

AHHHHH thank you SO much!!! OMGGGGG 🥺 live laugh lesbian..... 💞💗💖💕💖💞💕💖💗

🌸 @chrysalis-the-butterfly asked:

I read If You'll Have Me a few months ago and I loved it! Your art is so pretty and Momo and PG are such cool characters! 🥰 If you're okay with sharing, I'd be interested to hear what inspired you during the creative process? Were there any pieces of media or any other characters which influenced the formation of Momo and PG? Or did you do your own thing?

oh my gosh! thank you!! i really love character interactions and relationship dynamics, so i wanted to depict two girls who seemed like opposites - one cool and laid-back, the other soft and sweet. after a while they started to take on a life of their own, and i thought it'd be wonderful if their story could evoke the feeling of a shoujo romance!

i had a lot of things on my mind when i wrote the script... friendship, intimacy, communication... communication can be so hard! sometimes it's harder with someone you're close to because their opinion is so important to you. and what happens when you've got a character who's non-confrontational and has low self-esteem + someone who prefers actions over words, and would rather burn bridges than admit to feeling vulnerable? how would they get past that? i wanted to write their flaws as believable, and how their life experiences have shaped the way they think about themselves / the way they respond to personal conflict... but also how they learn from each other and grow ❤️ tysm for the question!!

@bisexualgoof asked:

Hi Eunnie! I just finished reading “If You’ll Have Me” and let me tell you, it was spectacular! I saw it in a local bookstore the other day and it was a no brainer to grab. The characters are so fun, the story is beautiful and heartfelt, and honestly every character is attractive… I especially fell in love with the pages of the books without words, especially 312-313, it made me cry. Such beautiful art! I related to PG’s annoyance with her long hair, I felt very seen with her comments. I’ve definitely said “I’d like to forget” so many times myself, right to my butch heart haha. Thank you for sharing this story with the world, and thank you in particularly for your acknowledgment at the end of the book, it made me feel seen. What an amazing love story, hope to see more of this adorable couple in the future!

oh my goodness!! this is so lovely and wonderful and ahhh T_T thank you so very much. it's such a dream, having these girls be out in the world with their personalities and backstories revealed at last! and i'm so happy to hear about the cast and side characters, i love designing people hehe ♥ i'll definitely keep drawing this couple, alongside more sapphic couples that are to come 😍 thank you!!

🌸 @skittles-rainbow-cat asked:

HI HI HI!!! you’ve been one of my fave artists forever and i just got done with iyhm and it’s sooooo amazing im in love with it. also i think strawberry blonde by chloe moriondo fits mono and pg very well :] i hope you’re having a good day and thank you for all your art it heals me in many ways <3333

HIIII omg!!! thank you so much! this song is so cuteeee oh my gosh this line:

Takes my hand in hers when the lights aren’t on Smaller than mine and oh god I am gone

it's so sweet ;_; thank you forever, i hope you're having a wonderful day!! <3 <3 <3

🌸 @lord-of-the-froggies asked:

Howdy Eunnie! I know you're probably swamped with work right now, but I just wanna let you know that I got my copy of your book today!! I'm gonna start reading it right away, it looks and feels amazing. From a fellow Washington artist to another--congratulations on such a huge achievement!

yay hello fellow washingtonian! and fellow artist!! thank you so much for your kind words 🥺 and i'm so glad the book got to you safely! wishing you a happy read~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just found your art today and after scrolling through your stuff I went and pre-ordered your book. I'm so excited!!

omggg thank you that means so much!!! ;_; <3

🌸 @ddooyoung asked:

I got my (signed!) copy of the book, and I love it SO MUCH. It's everything I was hoping and more. I love finally getting to know them, especially Momo. Since the first time I saw them, I thought Momo was a lot like me and now I have confirmation 😆 Thank you so much for writing such a wonderful story!!! I'm excited for everything you do 💗

WAHH thank you so much!! yesss i'm so overjoyed to finally share their story after so long! i hope the signature turned out okay, i was very nervous signing books for the first time (shaky hand and everything) 😱 i think next time it would be fun to make a custom stamp and stamp a doodle next to my signature hehe. thank you again!!! 💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I somehow missed the news about your having created a whole damn book?? was just flipping through yu & me books's holiday gift guide and did a double take when I saw priscilla and momo!! zoomed in and sure enough, there was your name at the bottom! congrats on ihym and congrats on being featured on rec lists from shops as cool as yu & me 🎉😍

omggg thank you thank you!! 🥰 AHHH yu & me books looks so amazing! i've been to new york just once but if i ever get to go back i have to visit them... i'm always looking for indie bookstores to throw my money at 😤

🌸 Anonymous asked:

1. Will there be an “if you’ll have me” sequel? 2. Is Momo her full name or a Nick name? If it’s a Nick name what is her full name? Thank you i love your work! ❤️😊

ahh there's no sequel planned as of right now! but i'd love to make one if i get the chance... i have some ideas that i think would be fun <3 and momo gardner is her full name! i liked gardner because it made me think of flowers ☺️❤️ thank you so much!!

🌸 @upsidedown-shadow-dreamer asked:

Hello, long time fan here. If You'll Have Me was delivered an hour ago and I've already finished my first read. OMG it's AMAZING. I love the story, the beautiful art, the inner thoughts, the pacing, the page color changes for back story… Just major WOW. I hope you are so proud of this work. I'm already looking forward to reading it again. Thank you!!!

this is sooooo AHHHHH T_T i'm in tears. i can't tell you how happy and thrilled i am to hear this!!! it's so encouraging and uplifting and ahh!! i want to make more stories... and just knowing that this book will be read by the same person more than once, omg! it's truly the highest of praise. thank you from the bottom of my heart <333

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hello!! I just remembered I could borrow graphic novels as e-books from my local library, found IYHM, devoured the entire thing in one sitting, then went through your tags so I could look at all your other IYHM art, and I was wondering if you'll make more stories about Momo and PG because I can't get enough of them! Absolutely obsessed with these two and I love seeing them so happy together 💖💖💖💖

hello!! oh i'm absolutely over the moon about this! i can definitely see myself making a follow-up book if i'm so lucky 🙏 but i'll keep on drawing more minicomics and illustrations no matter what!! thank you so much for this wonderful message 💕💕💕💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

hi!! love love love your art!!! do you think we can expect to see another graphic novel about momo and priscilla in the future?

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I’ve read IYHM so many times already and I absolutely loved it!!!! Are you planning on writing another book with Momo and PG? Is is there a way we can buy more of your stories?

thank you both so much!!!! <3 a sequel is actually one of the ideas i pitched for my second book! my editor cautioned against it in case IYHM didn't perform well, so i ended up going in a different direction - but my fingers are crossed for future opportunities 😤 realistically, it will probably depend on sales... but for the record, i'd want to do one regardless of the numbers...

i have one more book coming out, which i'm working on right now! the timeline is a bit up in the air atm but i'll try to keep everyone posted. making a book is so slow but i'm so grateful to you all for waiting 🥺💛

🌸 @randomqueernoun asked:

Do you make webcomics for other apps/websites? If yes where can I find them and what do I search in them to find your comics?

ahh not at the moment! but thank you SO much for the interest! one of my biggest goals right now is to set up a website where i have all my work in one place, and that would definitely be the place where i post future webcomics 👀

also, just as an aside... i want to make webcomics so bad. i think after my next book, i might take a break from traditional publishing to do that. sometimes i can't believe i'm drawing hundreds of pages i can't post... i'm like, how are people supposed to read this if i can't show them? how will they know?! ahh it kills me... but yes... someday!!!

part 3 to come~

[king-candybug-backup]

Kill Switch: Part Fifteen

That’s when the realization hit him. She couldn’t glitch. They were alone, and she couldn’t glitch away. If she hadn’t been such a blatant fool, getting rid of her beacon detonator, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But she did get rid of her detonator. And now, he has been presented with an opportunity. One that, in all honesty, he didn’t want to think about. He wished it had never crossed his mind. But now that it had, the thought was quick to fester, to burrow its wretched way deeper into his head until he had no choice but to consider it. It was only when he realized how apprehensively Vanellope had been staring back at him that he came somewhat back to his senses. Had she seen the brief moment of contemplation that plagued his eyes? He certainly hoped not... Squashing those thoughts down as best that he could, he started to move towards the injured child. But, despite all her efforts, not even she could hide the glimmer of fear that’d passed through her gaze the second he stepped closer. That sight alone stopped him dead in his tracks. It was so brief, so fleeting, that Candy was sure it hadn’t even been a conscious thought on her part. But it was there, and he had seen it.  That was the reality. It always had been, hadn’t it? That was the simple truth she kept refusing to accept. They weren’t friends. They had never truly been friends. This had been transactional. Nothing more, nothing less. He always knew that, despite how much Vanellope tried to pretend it was anything else. He was nothing more to these people than a tool they could barely control, and they were nothing more to him than means to an end. This was it. His chance to escape from this whole charade, served up on a silver platter. If he were the one to take her glitching abilities for himself, the scales would tip drastically in his favour. Sinistar would hardly be a concern anymore. Vanellope’s idiotic family would never know what hit them. He would be a fool not to seize such a golden opportunity.  So why was he hesitating?

Read the full chapter on AO3!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen

FAN-ART APPRECIATION TIME, WHEEE!!! First up we have @melonseed11art who drew both this AMAZING art of chapter 14, and also this adorable drawing of Candybug and Vanellope hanging out!

Next up is this HILARIOUS video by @pepperoni-soda that makes me die laughing from how silly these two are HFGDGCFTVJG

Then we have the adorable + funny "Scary dog privileges" by @its-lara which is 10000000% accurate lmfaoooo

Then there is this super cool drawing from chapter 12 by @sonia-angel401!

And we also have this really funny text meme art from @confetti-smoker that fits WAYYY too well lmfao!

Next is this awesome and pretty art of chapter 8 by @deityofthestars! (Just realized how fitting your username is to have drawn the star-themed racetrack 😂)

Then we have this adorable comic of chapter 3 shenanigans by @my-pfp-is-my-current-intrest!

And last but certainly not least, we have this super cool gif fan-art inspired by fitting music by @robotwhoscreams!

(OK WAIT ONE MORE THING THAT JUST GOT POSTED AS I WAS FINISHING WRITING THIS LOL, there's also this cool video by @askthealexmulti-verse of a bunch of Turbo AUs!)

AS USUAL, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THIS, Y'ALL ARE TOO GOOD FOR ME 😭😭😭💖💖💖

[deerspherestudios]

LATE FEB ANNOUNCEMENTS! 💖

Mushroom Oasis is now one year old! 🎉

And belated Happy Birthday to the skrunkly himself, Mychael! 🎂

His birthday was on the 15th this month, but I didn't have the time to draw something for it so I'm posting these two celebrations in one go! Clean version without the shadows + dev rambles under the cut:

I'd just like to say thank you thank you thank you!! as always to the community of this small silly game I'm making. I genuinely didn't think it would grow the amount it did. Like, it blows my mind to even consider it having a fandom?? ;;v;; It feels like it grew so much in one year and for that I'm eternally grateful <3!!

All of the fanart, fanfics, messages and questions and comments, and even donations!!? just blows me away every single time. Seriously, I wouldn't enjoy making the game as much as I do if not for you all giving me encouragement along the way and being excited for the game ;v;

((I feel like I oughta give a personal thank you to donators as well, you have no idea how much it's helped support me throughout the months during my studies. Thank you <3 Even a dollar means a lot!))

I won't ramble too much but for those who's reading here's an update for the game! Day 3 script is already done, but of course I'll be refining it some more over the course of coding it into Ren'py. I can't wait for March to begin as I'll have much more spare time to manage the blog and continue development on the game! In between irl matters of course, haha!

Anyways, that's all for now. Take care, fireflies! ❤️🍄

[maidragoste]

A part 2 to Worry? Maybe one where the reader and Frank take the boys on beach vacation after he is clean and sober form rehab and became an attending in the ED. The reader could also tell Frank she is pregnant with a baby girl…

Hi Anon, thank you so much for your request!. I'm so happy that someone is interested in Frank and this reader. I hope you like it, even if it's shorter than the first part.

The Pitt Masterlist

As I always say, please don't hesitate to like, comment, and reblog. The interactions always motivate me to keep writing 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have any ideas, questions or headcanons you want to share, my inbox is always open 🤗💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I hope you have a good reading!

You were sitting under the umbrella, watching with a smile as Frank played with the boys, pretending to be a sea monster while they splashed water at him, trying to scare him away. Minutes earlier, you were also playing with them until you started feeling dizzy while picking up Luke, your youngest son, so you decided to take a break.

Your eyes met your husband's blue ones. You knew he was worried about you, so much so that he almost canceled the beach trip, but you insisted that you were feeling fine because you didn't want to miss this day. You had planned it after Frank had completed another month clean, besides the kids were too excited and you didn't want to miss the opportunity to go to the beach, with Frank's job who knows when you'd have time to do it again? So this morning, you did your best to calm your nausea and tiredness. Carrying baby number three is really tiring you out. You still haven't told your husband about your pregnancy so he thinks you're just going to contrast the same thing Tanner had a week ago when he got infected by one of his schoolmates.

Frank must have seen something on your face because it's not even a minute before he calls the boys seriously and speaks to them briefly. You assume he's telling them not to get too carried away and to stay where you two can see them, before starting to trot over to you. He sits down next to you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, hugging you. You can't help but smile when his hand rests on your belly. Maybe he subconsciously knows? Or does he know but is waiting for you to tell him yourself?

"I'm fine," you assure him, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

“Are you sure? Your face is lacking color, and you're still tired,” your husband insists, worried. “We can go back to the beach another time. Your health is more important to me. We can stop by the hospital for a quick checkup.”

You decided to nip your husband's concern in the bud. You didn't want him to start running through the worst-case scenarios. Today was supposed to be a fun, relaxing day.

“Frank,” you placed your hand over the one he had on your belly. “It's nothing serious, baby three is just making me tired.”

Your husband's eyes widened in surprise, and a moment later, a big smile appeared on his face before he launched into your kiss. You could feel in his kiss all the infinite love he had for you and the family you were forming. You felt happy.

"Fuck, I love you," Frank said, breaking away from your lips and resting his forehead against yours. "I love you. I'm so lucky to have you and the boys, and now you're going to make me a father again. Thank you for giving me everything. Thank you for choosing me." As he continued, both his eyes and yours glazed over with emotion.

"I'll always choose you," you gave him a quick kiss. "I love you."

"I love you more," he declared, caressing your belly. "I hope it's a girl this time," he admitted, imagining a mini you following him everywhere.

“I can already see you having tea parties with her,” you smiled at the image of a little girl with your husband’s blue eyes asking for a tea party.

“I can’t wait,” he kissed your forehead, and hearing the children’s laughter, his eyes returned to the sea. “Do you think they’ll accept the idea of ​​being older siblings?”

“Let’s hope so.”