#could also have been sitting in a chair tbh

[mono-dot-jpeg]

your strongest potions, shopkeeper! - blue lock

summary; in which you (the reader, not y/n) learn of the tales of rafta

genre/extra tags; scenarios?, heavily inspired by potionomics (great game), characters as potionomics characters, fluff, comedy, modern fantasy au (technically), lots of potionomics references and fantasy talk, y/n a little stupid but it's fine.

a/n; hi, i've been playing potionomics nonstop lately and it's been on my mind and I already miss my silly baptiste. he's so babygirl. and naturally, why not smush my current interests together now since I got the idea in my mind already. i wont be discussing all the characters in the game and matching them with bllk boys unfortunately as im having a hard time wondering who would be who. tbh, a lot of them could probably apply to one character KHDJDKDJ

the ingredient merchant is a teasing one. he's dry, calculating, and more than willing to add fuel to a fire during a heated conversation. but he would never do that with you. but he does live to tease you with his dry remarks and his smug grin. but he's the one who helps supply your potion ingredients, though. you don’t really know how... but you decide not to question it.

karasu tabito is a clairvoyant. he has his large all-seeing orb, which he's told you that it's how he finds all his connections to get all these ingredients. and then he's got his little chest mimic. maybe not that little.. it's bigger than a chair. and he can sit on it like a large ottoman.

he's kind of mysterious despite being one of your first friends you've made in rafta. he doesn't talk a lot of his past, and he appreciates that you don't press hard about it.

he's probably been by your side since the start, watching your growth to defeat the competition in the potion-making industry.

you fell for him first, but he totally fell harder.

"you know i've been getting a lot of visions of a person lately. from my orb." he started. "i see your...stupid face in them." he looks away from you, the large brim of his warlock hat covering the subtle blush on his cheeks. he curls in on himself slightly, resting against his floating all-seeing orb. "you.. see me? wait, does that mean i'm gonna die soon?!" you panic, flinching back at the possible implications of him seeing you in his visions. "god, you're such an idiot. i mean, yeah, we all die someday, but this.. is different. it means.. that i like you." he grumbled. "so, what are you gonna do about it?" "hm.. can i kiss you then?"

the guild master is a man of the people... despite being born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he means well. he strives to make the blue lock guild thrive! he wants to support the amazing adventurers who supply and give their recent monster loot to the potion makers who keep them alive with their adventure commissions. but it's been hard for him, really. he's been so disconnected from the normal life that he doesn't understand low class or middle-class struggles as well as most would.

mikage reo is a man who wishes to experience what most people already have. he's sick of the cushy rich life of having everything (though his mother still sends him a care package of out-of-your-budget hair care). he's a sight for sore eyes, catching plenty of attention from anyone and everyone. he's a gentleman whilst being a little.. passionate (is passionate the right word?) about his experiences and his goal to improve the guild to its rightful peak. he's also the announcer for the potion contests in rafta! he's never biased in those. i promise. (/gen)

like how he's watched you grow to be a masterwork potion maker, you've watched slowly shed free of his insecurities of the past and worrying over not being a great guild master.

he's sweet, a little eccentric, and more than an open book than he realizes. he's loyal to his goal even if the seasoned adventurers give him side eye about his past and lack of proper qualifications to handle a guild.

you fell for each other just as hard as the other.

"lately, i've been going through quite a lot as i learn how to navigate this new life. it's been stormy skies and rough seas..." he said with a sad smile, but it turns into something more softer and happier, "but you've been there for me and had so much faith in my plans." "some days i want nothing more than to go back to luxury. to relax and be free from work." he said with an annoyed frown. "luxury and riches are nice." you nodded. "but you helped me and showed me things i have never experienced." he smiled brightly. "and for that, i found myself falling for you." he pulls out a bright red rose, handing it to you. "do you want to hear the love my heart has to offer to you?" you gently take the rose with your fingertips, "i already hear it loud and clear."

the excitable new hero that was part of the guild was a fun one! he was a hero enthusiast, wanting to become a hero himself because of it. and he made it all the way to rafta! and now he helps gather new ingredients for you, ready for any dangerous adventure. he's absolutely an excited puppy. he loves doing anything as long as it was adventurous! sometimes if he was feeling really crazy, he would try the flavor of the day in the local ice cream parlor. (he cried the day he got his least favorite flavor, mozuku)

he's been kind of hung up on wanting a trophy or large weapon. so many heroes had them, so he should get one! he has to be a great hero after all! but in your eyes, he was already rather great at what he did. he's swifter than a bee and stung like one too. he seemed to have this innate talent for fighting and being adventurous. he just didn't seem to believe it when he was surrounded by hero legends or higher ranked heroes.

he's been your most supportive customer, often visited for plenty of potions or maybe a quick large order. sometimes he gives you a discount for his commissioned work out on the field.

you didn't fall for him at least, but boy, did he fall for you hard.

"it's silly, wanting to have a trophy or weapon to show off for your success." he said softly. "but i really did want one. i wanted to show that i was a great hero, you know?" he laughed sheepishly. "you might not have found one, but you really did prove yourself along the way. you're pretty high ranked, aren't you?" "yeah, it just feels weird to not have anything to show for it.." he smiled wistfully before it melts into a softer grin. "but hearing you say that i proved myself, it makes me feel so much better!" he groaned childishly, "but still! believing in yourself is hard." "well, it's easy for me to believe in you. it's probably the easiest thing i could do." he goes quiet, looking at you with adoration before blurting out, "can i kiss you?"

the succubus currently living in your literal hell of a basement is certainly a character. you had beat him in the potion-making competition and he outed himself as a demon. which wasn't much of a shocker to you, considering his less than savory scams he did with his potions. but even so, he was considerably skilled in charms and illusions more than potions. he just needed some cash.

but now that he's lost, he had found solace in your unfinished cave basement.. that had a whole river of lava running through?! you curse your uncle ego for having such an odd home that's left for you to handle. so, you unwillingly take in the damn demon before he runs amok ruining other poor souls. he's charming. you'll give him that much. he often sells you illusions and charms that would help your potions sell better. and he even gives you some pointers on how to charm the customers into letting their guard down for a great profit. he's been looking for a place to belong in a while, and your home seems to fit that bill as much as he hates to admit. he's rowdy, flirty, invasive, most things that you don't really want to have around (especially since he unsealed the magic barrier that was keeping you safe from the heat of the lava).

but overtime, you seem to find yourself liking the odd presence of him. or maybe he had unintentionally put a charm on you. you may never know.

you fell first, he fell right after.

"you know i really saw you as a threat to my business and all." he said. "it really wasn't love at first sight." he laughed. "but you're still you, even after all your big decisions to change. still the same wrecking ball that crashed into my shop and right into my basement." "i was petty about a lot of things for a long time. many many years probably. when my own home got destroyed. i was just surviving to the next day." he said, frowning slightly. "but i changed. i changed to find my way to you." "now, you're thriving." "i really am thriving. and now, whatever i decide to do with my life. i want you by my side." "i want that too." "then show me, dear."

[ohsilverplease]

I vent a lot about C on here but I have really super appreciated him lately and I want to document that too. Earlier this year he tore down my old shed (at my request) and cut down some trees for me, and he is helping me get my yard and garden in order. Which is great bc I am getting the new shed this week! My aunt and uncle and parents are coming up on Tuesday to install it, uncle J has already built all the walls they just have to assemble it. Unfortunately I can’t be there because I’m still required to be in the office for another month, but I should see them in the afternoon before they go home. And I’ll see them at the end of the month bc mom’s family is all getting together.

But C has been good about nudging me when i need to do something, and helping me when something needs doing but I don’t have the physical or mental energy, and I am getting better at communicating my needs to him. I wish I could return the favor and help him get his ducks in a row but I will say I am easy to help bc I admit I know nothing about anything and he is hard to help bc he knows a little about everything. Idk. I am very go-with-the-flow, especially on projects like this, and he is very perfectionist procrastinator, so it tends to be one-sided support.

Anyway because they’ll all be in my house all day Tuesday I’m trying to clean and organize today. Unfortunately the kitchen is one again infested with ants (not koala bears) but I hope it’ll clear up by tomorrow night so I can give everything another good scrub. I’m going to get lunch stuff and snacks for them for them and then I’ll get dinner for everyone Tuesday night. I need to clean both bathrooms (I think I said this last weekend, hm) and vacuum everything and load up all my clothes to donate into the car so at least they are out of the way.

We are off Wednesday and I am maybe gonna go to the pool and get a cookout milkshake as a reward for making it through the next two days.

[hiddenworldofmary]

saw “joker: folie à deux” with my parents earlier today and they brought me my new hobonichi for next year and some consolation trinkets 🤍 (i ordered from a local reseller instead of the japanese website due to international shipping costs being astronomical so i got myself some extras to balance the lack of the tricolour pen and little notebook)

[ratatoastwrites]

Victoria’s secret

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

nsfw, 18+ MDNI

a/n: munch spencer, we all say in unison 😫 i wrote this cuz i was bored at the mall lol, does that count as public indecency? haha jk, but that is lowkey what this blurb is about ✨😮‍💨 also special challenge, take a shot every time i use the word lace lol

cw: oral (f receiving), tiny bit of fingering, bit of rough kissing yum, lingerie (obvi), umm kinda public indecency tbh lol, borderline exhibitionism ig but it isn’t really mentioned just subtext ig, uhhh what else, oh yea friends to lovers kinda (or fwb if u fancy, it is kinda vague), no written aftercare cuz again i just couldn’t be bothered, also this is an unedited & no beta & english is my second language mess as per usual mwah 🧚‍♀️

also also special shout out to @apple-pie-and-impala for never getting annoyed with me about the way that 90% of our text msgs revolve around this man 🤭 love ya, my little enabler 🫶

When you first asked Spencer to go lingerie shopping with you, he didn’t think much of it

He honestly believed that it was just going to be a normal hangout between two friends, because really, there wasn’t anything inherently sexual about the prospect of an adult person wearing underwear

Well, that thought lasted until about five seconds after he stepped into the store with you

It was hard not to let his thoughts wander as he watched you running your fingers across the lace fabric of a matching lilac set, his breath catching in his throat as he imagined you actually wearing it

He watched you pick out a few sets, his heart hammering in his chest as his head filled with more and more sinful thoughts

So when you coyly asked him if he wanted to accompany you to the back (your excuse being that you didn’t want to get bored all alone back there), he didn’t even hesitate before nodding vigorously

As he sat in one of the chairs just outside the fitting room you were in, he contemplated that this might be his purgatory

He could hear the rustling of your clothes, and he knew that you were wearing those torturous sets of lace, and yet he couldn’t do anything about it, forced to sit tight and listen to your chatter through the curtain, trying to will away the painful hardness in his pants

“Spence, could you come in here for a second? The straps are a little loose, and I can’t quite reach the clips.”

He froze for a moment at your seemingly innocent request, before standing up on shaky legs and pulling the curtain to the side just enough for him to slip inside the small, closed space next to you

When he finally turned to look at you, he almost collapsed on the spot

You were wearing a white set with intricate lacing that left hardly anything to the imagination, your hands cupping your breasts to keep the bralette from slipping down, the straps hanging loosely over your shoulders

As soon as your eyes locked together, the air seemed to crackle between you, and he wasted no time pushing you against the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it

He was a needy mess in just a few seconds as his hands glided across your skin, mapping every inch of your body that he could reach, while he familiarised himself with your taste

Your hands pulled on his hair as he sunk to his knees in front of you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip as you watched him pull the dainty panties you were wearing to the side, his puppy eyed gaze making you weak in the knees

You gasped as you felt him press a tentative kiss on your clit, having to slap a hand over your mouth as he immediately followed it up by lapping at your wet folds enthusiastically

He had you shaking in a matter of minutes, eating you out like your pussy was his ambrosia and he had been starving for years

You had to balance yourself on the wall as he put one of your legs over his shoulder, his tongue exploring your insides, the new angle making his nose nudge against your clit with every move

He replaced his tongue with two of his fingers, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it like it was his favourite dessert in the world

You gripped his hair tightly as you came with a loud gasp of his name, rutting against his face, the vibrations of his whimpers making your eyes roll back in immense pleasure

His tongue worked you through it all, licking up your juices languidly, until you had to push his head away when your eyes started tearing up from overstimulation

It was safe to say that you ended up buying that set, walking out of the store hand in hand with Spencer, before leaving the mall to go back to his place, eager to return the favour

[cherryredstars]

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you. 

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  

“Miguel!” 

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

[reidmoony-toast]

could you maybe do like a one shot of Spencer x Supermodel!fem reader? Like she does runways for super popular brands like Versace and Victoria’s Secret?

Radiant. ౨ৎ5

Spencer reid x fem supermodel!reader

content: established relationship, no use of y/n, spencer being down bad tbh, fluff

cw: Victoria's Secret show, so underwear yk (but no sexualising or anything)

wc: 2.3k

an: This is so exciting, hi first anon req!! I love you so much! Anyways this idea is amazing and I hope this is what you envisioned <3 This isn't my best work, but I tried 😭 Also I based the outfit off Karolina Kurkova's in a 2003 show, but its set in early season 7 soo forget that!

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“Is that her?” Penelope whispers for the hundredth time.

“No.” He huffs, tired of answering the same question for the past ten minutes.

“Patience, babygirl.” Derek chuckles from Spencer's other side. “He'll tell us when she's here. Maybe not with his words, but definitely with his eyes.” Derek flutters his lashes in Spencer's direction, clearly making fun of him.

“Both of you leave me alone, please?” He pleads, sick of their antics. They haven't stopped talking, and it's putting him on edge. He wants to appreciate today. Appreciate you. 

You had been desperately hoping to get this job with Victoria's Secret for months, and you were ecstatic when news of your hire reached you through your manager. You'd been raving excitedly about it ever since, and had begged him to finally come to a show.

He obliged, of course. Partly, because he can't say no to you, and mostly because he has been eager to see you in your element ever since you two had started dating.

Now, he is buzzing in anticipation, which is definitely not helped by Morgan and Garcia's constant remarks.

It wouldn't have been his personal preference to invite them, but you'd insisted, saying it was about time you met Spencer's friends, anyways. 

The show continues, scantily clad girls strutting down the catwalk, angel wings attached to their backs and sequins blinding, but still, you were nowhere to be seen. Spencer fidgets, waiting with baited breath. 

A figure emerges from the side of the stage, turning to strut down the walkway. He freezes, shooting up in his chair from where he was previously slumped. It was you. Undeniably. He could pick you in a sea of people from a mile off, if it came to it. 

His breath hitches. He takes you in. 

There you stand, in all of your glory. He can't quite believe what he’s seeing. Sure, you're self-assured in your everyday life, but this is on a whole new level.

You radiate confidence, striding down the catwalk like you own it. Spencer is utterly captivated by this different side of you that he has never seen in person before.

Sure, he's seen endless pictures—and even some videos—of your modelling, as well as the shows that take place in the comfort of your home; when you put on outfits and strut down the long hallway of your apartment, to loud enthusiasm from Spencer.

These particular one-on-one shows usually end in you dressing in progressively more atrocious outfits, until you’re both prone from uncontrollable laughter.

But this. This was real. It all hits him then—that you are a supermodel, that you do this for a living. That this is your life. 

His chest swells with immense pride at all you have accomplished. You've worked so hard, built your career from the ground up, and it has paid off. Your dreams have finally come true, and now, you're modelling in a Victoria's Secret show, which he is told (by you, of course) is world-renowned. 

“That's her.” Derek concludes smugly, no uncertainty in his tone. Spencer shushes him loudly, eyes fixed solely on you.

You don't falter for a single step as you glide down the stage. You're clad in a sparkly silver bra that glints off the bright lights, sequined mesh sitting below the bra's edge. 

A small pair of matching silver underwear sit below your hips, a glittering garter to match. And, of course, the wings. They protrude from your back, spanning above your head, magnificent and ethereal. Spencer thinks you ought to have a halo to match. 

The feathered angel wings trail down your back, sweeping across the floor behind you as you make your way to the end of the catwalk. 

Garcia and Morgan are saying something across him—most likely about you—but he pays them no mind, not caring for anything else but you, in front of him.

As you near the end of the perilously long stage, Spencer's smile only grows, until he is beaming uncontrollably when you slow to strike your pose. 

Spencer and his company have VIP tickets, courtesy of you, so he has an unobstructed view of you, directly in front of where he is sitting. 

Your hands rest on your hips as you lock eyes with the sea of cameras frantically snapping pictures. 

You look fierce, fiery, and Spencer somehow grins harder. 

As your eyes scan the room, they easily lock on Spencer's, not even ten feet away. His eyes are wide, smile larger than life. 

His lips move, mouthing words to you that you instantly understand, and you light up, a warm glow from within. 

‘I love you’

The luminous smile remains, even when you remember your surroundings. You pose again, grinning all the while and the crowd claps while shutters click incessantly. You pivot, sashaying off, but not before looking back over your shoulder to blow a cheeky kiss in Spencer's direction, winking.

It might just be Spencer's perception, but you seem to shimmer with incandescent light, like your very soul was set aflame with a soft fire. You are radiantly gorgeous—utterly perfect in the eyes of Spencer Reid.

The wink you sent over your shoulder makes him duck his head, face and ears bright red. He is the luckiest man in the world. To have you, all to himself. 

He is still grinning, even as you disappear around the corner. Maybe he is biassed (most certainly), but you were by far the most captivating model up there. Your every move seemed effortless—practised and perfected. 

You drew the attention of everyone, and you kept it. It felt as if the whole room had held its breath as you passed, too busy watching to remember how to breathe. 

Maybe that was just his singular experience. He wouldn't know, and he doesn't particularly care. 

As the show wraps up, Garcia and Morgan are raving—about you. 

“Spencer, I can't believe she is your girlfriend! She is absolutely stunning!” Penny gushes.

The first statement hurts him a little, like everyone thinks he can't possibly be dating a pretty model—but it's definitely true. The second statement, however, is the truest thing he's ever heard in his 29 years of life. 

Spencer chooses not to respond to Penelope, instead heading for the exit. They follow, and Morgan claps him on the back. “You're one lucky man, pretty boy.” He whistles suggestively, and Spencer brushes off his hand, mumbling something under his breath as he is suddenly interested in the craftsmanship of the venue floor. 

He found this hard. Blending his work and home life, introducing you to his family. It's not that he's worried they won't like you—that’s impossible, when it comes to you—it's more that he has trouble combining the two sides of his life in his head, given the fact that he is almost two different people in each. 

He doesn't bring his work home, and he doesn't bring his home to work—mostly. He does, sometimes (too often), ramble on about you and how downright amazing you are. He's only human, after all. 

Mostly, he's scared that it will be a mistake, that the two sides will end up being better off separate, that mixing the two now will have irreparable consequences. 

But, you wanted to, so he’s taking the plunge. For you. Always for you. 

~☆~

Spencer feels like he shouldn't be here. They're in the very depths of the building; models, designers and beauticians alike flit past them, paying them no mind as they go about their business.

He glances over his shoulder at the ajar door that leads to the dressing rooms every couple of seconds, in case you come through and save him from this place—which is the polar opposite to everything that makes him comfortable.

He's here for you, though, and he would endure this for you. Only for you. 

Morgan and Penelope stand a few feet away, at ease and chatting like this is the most normal situation in the world, like they've been backstage at thousands of Victoria's Secret shows.

Just as he's about to go into a nervous breakdown, he sees a flash of movement appear from behind the door. 

“Spence!” A shriek sounds as he turns to see you, bounding towards him. You throw your arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek.

His hands come up to steady you, curling under the hem of your sweater. He feels instantly less overwhelmed, breathing you in like you're the oxygen he needs to live—like he can’t breathe properly when you’re not near.

You're draped in an oversized knit and comfortable track pants that engulf your frame. The irony wasn't lost on him—you were wearing nothing but showy undergarments not even half an hour ago. 

He loves that about you. That you aren't entirely defined by your job, that you have a part of your life and sense of self cordoned off; a part that isn't affected by the insane world of modelling. He loves that you can be yourself in so many different ways, that you have all these different facets. Just like a diamond, whose sides are all different, but every single one shines just as brightly all the same.

It inspires him to do the same for himself, to have a true self outside of his chaotic job that takes over most of his life. You’ve helped him see that life can be varied, diverse; that there are so many different things—other than one's job—that can make you feel fulfilled. Content. Happy. 

He's happy; truely and vibrantly happy with you. And that is the way he wishes it to stay. 

He chuckles amusedly at your strong display of affection. “Hello to you too, lovely.” 

You pull back to grin at him, albeit a little sheepishly. “Sorry. I'm just so happy you're actually here.” 

His gaze softens impossibly more. “It was long overdue.” He cups your cheeks and leans down to press a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “You were phenomenal.” 

You beam, and draw him closer.

The clearing of a throat brings you out of your reverie, out of the world where there is only the two of you. 

You pull away, detaching yourself from Spencer, eyes flashing with delight. “Hi!” You wave at a shocked-yet-amused Derek Morgan, and an exuberant Penelope Garcia. 

Derek raises his eyebrow at Spencer, probably surprised by how little he cared about your public display of affection. He usually doesn’t even let Garcia hug him unless it’s important. But, like with everything else, you’re different—special. He simply shrugs back. 

“You must be the friends Spence has told me so much about.” She reaches out a hand to shake Morgan's hand. “Derek, right?” 

Derek smirks, “In the flesh.” He grasps your hand, grip firm. “The show was amazing, by the way.” 

“Thank you!” You chirp, brightening further, and Morgan huffs out a laugh.

You pull away, turning to the eclectic women next to him. “And you, must be the famous Penelope.” 

You reach out your hand once more, but Garcia has other ideas. She dives in for a hug, bypassing the formalities immediately.

She pulls away abruptly as you squeak in surprise. “Oh- sorry! I'm sorry.” She blurts out. “I'm just so happy to meet you, finally! Reid has told us so much about you, I just couldn't wait any longer!” She grins broadly. “And you're even prettier than he described, which I don't understand how that's humanly possible, because boy genius over there won't stop talking about how gorgeous you-”

“Woah there, baby girl, slow your roll.” Derek interrupts, patting Garcia gently on the shoulder. You stifle a laugh, glancing at Spencer. He ducks his head, avoiding your eye and shuffling from one foot to another as his face turns pink.

“Sorry!” Penelope flushes scarlet red. “Uhm… what I meant was ‘nice to meet you’.” She cringes at her outburst. 

“No need to say sorry. It's an absolute pleasure to meet the both of you, Spence speaks so highly of you two.” You beam, and Garcia deflates in relief. Spencer’s arm snakes around your waist and under the hem of your sweater once again, smoothing patterns on your bare skin. You lean into his side, a contented sigh escaping your lips. 

“You know, when boy genius here told me he was dating a supermodel, I didn't believe him.” He raises eyebrows, smirking. “But, here you are.” 

“In the flesh.” You flash him a grin, parroting back his own words. He lets out a chuckle. 

“Why is it so unbelievable?” Spencer complains incredulously.

They all laugh at his words, and he hangs his head, sighing dejectedly. You pat him on the chest in consolation.

All of Spencer’s fears are quickly doused as a lively conversation starts up between you and his friends. He doesn’t know why he worried, like if they met everyone would self-combust. No, this was going fine. More than fine, even. 

His breathing slows, sure and steady, and he just watches. Watches you speak animatedly, with a delighted glint in your eye, clearly enjoying Penelope and Derek’s presence. And his friends, his family, seemed to be enjoying her just as much, which he obviously isn’t surprised about, but still fills him with relief. It was okay. It was all going to be perfectly okay.

“How does some dinner sound?” You ask the group, just as Spencer tunes back in.

Penelope claps her hands together, “Yes! I have the perfect place.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Derek replies. “If lover boy is coming, of course. I can't wait to tell lover girl, here, all the embarrassing stories at his expense.” 

Spencer groans, but follows Garcia as she heads towards the door. You just laugh. 

Spencer pinches your side from where you're still tucked under his arm and you yelp. This time, he's the one letting out a quiet chuckle, and you roll your eyes. 

“Come on genius, lead the way.” You look up expectedly from under his arm.

“Anything for you.” He simply replies, wrapping himself around you tighter, before guiding the both of you towards the door.

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appriciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania <3 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[murdrdocs]

just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[jnnul]

falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

[daisymbin]

do you hate me? (no, i don't, princess.) - choi seungcheol

warnings: mentions of alcohol (slightly intoxicated reader)

pairings: choi seungcheol x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: i know i did best friends to lovers for wonwoo already but this has been sitting in my drafts for quite awhile and also, tbh this is probably one of my fav tropes hahaha enjoy!

check out my masterlist!

seungcheol's pov

''cheol-ah...do you hate me?''

''no, my love, i dont.'' i watch as a small smile flashes across her flushed cheeks. im not sure why i even responded to her at all seeing how drunk she was. she probably wont remember any of this in the morning when she wakes up anyway.

''who the hell gave her this much to drink? you guys know she can't hold her liquor well! you should have stopped her!'' i was honestly no where near as upset as i sounded. while a part of me is slightly upset, im also rather glad and relieved. glad that i can be here to take care of her and relieved because...its me who gets the privilege of taking care of her.

''im sorry hyung, i didnt expect her to drink so much and so quickly as well. soonyoung hyung and i were just getting dinner after work together but we ran into her so we went together. i swear i tried stopping her but im no match for the two of them! i couldnt even stop soonyoung hyung.'' dino said with a pout. ''i wanted to send her back home but she kept insisting that she wont leave with anyone else but you. i dont think she even recognises me right now. she kept calling me a stranger and said if i dont stop pestering her, her best friend would come fight me... i didnt have a choice hyung...'' dino looks almost terrified and its funny. i was trying so hard to fight a smile from coming out.

dino thought that i was mad at him for calling me out this late at night on my day off but truth be told, if this is what you call a disturbance then this would be the best kind. i love her. not that i would ever admit that to anyone. although, i don't think i need to. i know that the boys can tell. ''oh hyung...you're here?'' soonyoung finally spoke out. i shook my head in slight disapproval as i watch soonyoung slouch on the chair, almost losing his balance and falling over. ''chan-ah, i think you should bring soonyoung home. he's wasted.''

''i will hyung. im sorry again for calling you but you're her best friend afterall and she was asking for you.'' yeah, best friend indeed.

i watched as dino hauled soonyoung towards an incoming cab before i finally sat down beside her. ''how are you feeling?'' i asked as i gently helped her get up to walk towards my car that was parked just by the side of the road. ''just a little dizzy and fuzzy.'' i chuckled at that. fuzzy? cute.

i opened the door to the passenger seat and helped her in. i buckled her seatbelt for her and stepped back. ''where are you going?'' she looked at me with a slight sadness to it. i chuckled as i gently patted the side of her head. ''to the driver's seat, princess. we've gotta get you home somehow, dont we?'' she smiles at my response and i finally manage to close her side of the door.

''cheol-ah, can you hold my hand? it feels empty..'' her hand comes up to where mine is and held it in place before i could even answer. i could feel my heart beating so loud. how does she do it with such ease? i wonder if she knows how nervous she makes me feel. ''cheol-ah, do you hate me?'' she asked as she tried to keep her eyes open. probably fighting sleep. ''no, i dont, princess. i thought i already told you that just now.'' i said with a smile.

''i just wanted to make sure.'' she said as she let out a deep breath.

''why would i hate you?'' and this time, she closes her eyes. ''i just feel like...if you knew how i really felt about you, you would hate me.''

''i could never hate you no matter what, and besides, you know you can tell me anything, right? i'll always be by your side.'' i tried to reassure her.

''you can't say that when you dont know anything.''

''tell me then.''

''i can't cheol.''

''why not? i thought we promised each other not to keep any secrets between us?'' i immediately bit my tongue as soon as i said that; knowing full well that im keeping my biggest secret from her as well.

''but if i tell you....can you promise me not to get mad?''

''i promise.''

''theres someone i like...no no..theres someone im in love with for the past 2 years but i dont think he feels the same way..i thought it was just a stupid crush at first and that it would go away but it never did and my crush only grew bigger...i thought i would be able to handle it and pretend like it doesnt affect me but it does and i cant take it anymore.''

and there it was. that churning feeling in the pit of my stomach. my hands start to get clammy and my throat starts to feel dry. ''for 2 years?'' i start to think back to when that time period was. was it 2022? i had already been in love with her for 2 years by 2022. was i a fool to not have noticed that she had her eyes on someone else while i had mine on her?

''yeah..2 years..isnt that so pathetic?'' pathetic? i've been in love with you for 4 years..who is the pathetic one here? but instead i said ''no, its not. i've been worse.'' i am worse. i let out a deep sigh as i felt my heart slowly breaking. i felt like my heart was hard candy and a kid is just throwing me onto the ground and stomping on my heart with no regards whatsoever other than to smash this piece of candy into broken bits for the fun of it.

''come on. we're here.'' i parked the car and got out of the driver's seat and walked over to open the door of the passenger seat. ''cheol-ah...can you carry me in? my legs are not working.'' i wanted to say: of course, princess. anything for you. but i held my tongue. without saying a word, i lifted her up and closed the car door.

i punched in the code to the door, kicked my shoes off and carried her straight to her bedroom. i laid her down gently on her bed before kneeling down beside her to take her shoes off. i walked towards the bathroom to look for some cotton pads and make up remover as i returned to her bed, to her. ''come on my love, let's get your make up cleaned off hmm? otherwise you'll have a fit tomorrow about sleeping with your make up on.'' i smiled as i recalled that one time she slept in with her make up on and had the biggest fit in the morning about forgetting to take them off, screaming about how her skin will become worse and she'll turn even uglier, but she could never. it was just not possible. she is beautiful, always have been and always will be regardless of anything.

''no one takes care of me the way you do.'' she said softly against my ear as i helped her sit up to wipe her face clean. ''yet, you're still in love with some guy who i don't even know for 2 years!'' i tried to mask my sadness with some fake laughter. i hope she can't tell.

''i can't tell you...i can't tell anyone.''

''why not? is it that bad? plase don't tell me its soonyoung.''

''what? soonie? don't be crazy, he's like a brother to me.''

''then who is it?''

''mhm..can't say...''

i sighed and said ''lets get you to bed now. you're tired.'' as i get up to head to the bathroom, i felt her tug the sleeve of my jacket. forcing me to look back at her.

''can you stay here with me tonight? sleep with me.'' how could i ever say no to her? i would be the biggest idiot if i ever did. i always want to be close to her.

i let out a breath as i took my jacket off and throwing it on her work chair. ''come here, princess.'' i mindlessly held my hand out to her as i laid in bed with her. she rolled over clumsily to my side, putting her head on my chest. i wonder if she can hear the sound of my heartbeat picking up as strongly as i can feel it beating against my chest.

she took a deep inhale before she said ''you smell so good cheol, you always do.'' i smiled lightly as i pulled her in closer and tigher. nothing ever feels more right than when i have her in my arms.

''goodnight princess, sleep tight.''

''i love you.'' she said, almost too casually for my liking. telling each other we love each other isn't anything new, but how can she possibly say that to me after telling me she's been in love with someone else for the past 2 years? my heart broke again at the remembrance of that.

''goodnight, princess.'' i couldn't tell her i love her back, not when we don't love each other the same way. not when she doesn't love me the same way.

''why don't you say it back?'' she sounded hurt and it made me regret not saying it back...i never want to hurt her.

''do you hate me?'' she asked again.

''no i don't, princess. i love you.'' i said as i felt my heart sink little by little.

i carelessly start stroking her hair, hoping to put her to sleep soon. ''i love you.'' i said again.

when will i ever get the chance to tell her i love her again without having to hide my romantic feelings for her? when will i ever get to tell her i love her again without having to worry if she's finally figured me out? its so much easier to do it in the dark like this..where she can't see me, where i can hide. where i can love her proudly and openly without being afraid.

''i'm in love with you'' she said as she snuggled closer.

''let's sleep now its- wait what?'''

this time, its her turn to sigh. ''i said im in love with you, choi seungcheol.''

''you're drunk.''

''maybe..but i'm still in love with you. it doesn't change anything.''

i look down at her on my chest, but she was already looking at me. ''don't joke with me like that, princess. you know i don't take jokes well.''

''but i'm not.''

''you're not thinking clearly, princess. we've been best friends for forever, there's no way you're suddenly in love with me.''

''but its not sudden.''

i averted my eyes away from her to look back at the ceiling. i cant even look at her now. not when she's looking at me like that. not when she's looking at me like she means it, because i know it can't be.

''don't you have that guy you say you're in love with for 2 years? how would he feel if he found out that you're suddenly in love with me? how can you say it so casually? did u ever think about how i would feel? you can't just-'' and there it was. i felt my whole world stop, i felt it freeze. am i the one thats intoxicated tonight? what is happening because it can't be. that can't be her lips on mine.

she took advantage of my lips being slightly open from shock to slip her tongue in mine. and i let her. the same way she lets me run my hand through her hair, the same way she lets me kiss her back, and the same way she lets me pull her in closer by her neck to deepen the kiss.

''you're so noisy cheol.'' were not the words i expected to come out of her mouth after that kiss. ''what do you-''

''can i love you cheol? can i love you like that? can i be in love with you?''

i wanted so badly to screamYES but nothing comes out no matter how i try. i was dumbfounded. instead, all i did was let out a shakey breath.

''cheol...why are you not saying anything? are you....are you mad at me? i'm sorry i didn't mean to, i don't know what came over me im so-'' i felt her slowly removing her hands from my waist and letting go of my hand. ''no no no god im not upset i'm just.. i don't know what to say i don't know how to respond i just...'' i sighed at myself as reach out to hold her hand again.

''i'm in love with you too, i have for as long as i can remember.''

''really?''

''yes, really, princess.''

and it goes silent for awhile before i finally picked up the courage to ask ''did you..did you mean me? i mean...the guy that you were in love with. is it..is it me? because i understand if its not me and if this was a mistake-''

''yes, dummy. its you.'' this time i get to see her shy smile.

''oh...i see...cool.'' oh. oh? OH. it's me. i'm yet again rendered speechless. can i be blamed if the girl i've been in love with for the past 4 years suddenly kissed me and told me she loves me? that she's in love with me. she loves me. what am i to do or say when this all feels so surreal?

''so.....'' she starts out.

''so..?''

''do you hate me?''

''no, i don't, princess. i told you, i love you. i'm in love with you.''

i finally let myself break into a smile. it'll be over my dead body if i ever let her feel like i don't love her.

''really?''

''yes, princess, really. although, you might forget all this when you wake up tomorrow.''

''no, i won't. i'll tell you i love you again in the morning.''

''now, how about we go to bed and talk about this tomorrow over breakfast? i'll make you blueberry pancakes.'' i said as i stroked her cheek with my thumb. i pray she won't forget.

''i'd love that. goodnight cheol.''

''goodnight, princess.'' i waited a beat before i added ''i love you.'' but this time, i don't get a response. this time, i hear a light snore from her instead as i smile to myself. but for once, its okay if she doesn't tell me she loves me back because she fell asleep again. for once, my heart is not aching over questioning what her i love yous mean because for once, i know i won't have to tell her i love her just to hear her say she loves me too, because i know she will tell me that herself in the morning when she wakes up.

for once, i finally know what she truly means when she tells me she loves me. and for once, she knows what i truly mean when i tell her i love her.

[haetrack]

did i hear mark request…

it’s late, you and mark have been spending the last week studying in the library every night for a big final. ur brain’s exhausted and u’ve been losing focus every now and again for the last hour but these last 15 mins, u’ve spent being distracted at how good mark looks next to u, extremely focused and determined to get through these practice papers. so u wanna see how long he can stay concentrated and quiet with ur hands all over him - he’s not quiet though this man is gonna moan and whine in ur ear like his life depends on it

(tbh i just wanna give this man a handjob in public and watch him finish)(he’s so hot)(i need him so bad)(maybe edge him a little too idk)

req 5: mark lee x afab!reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: smut (MDNI!), public sex in a library, handjob, edging (HOORAY)

a/n: THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL… HE SO… HES SONSNDMFK

-

you’ve been sitting at the library with mark for hours. the words of the article in front of you begin blurring together, none of it is really clicking, none of it bothering to stick in your head. you could recite the whole study guide and its answers by now. you just keep getting distracted. every time you look over at mark, you lose focus.

you can’t help but let your mind drift, can’t help but think about doing a little more than kissing with him.

you and mark have been together for five months. still a fairly new relationship, and you are happy to call him your boyfriend. he’s sweet, attentive, funny, and cute, but you can’t help but wish for one thing. since you’ve gotten in a relationship, you haven’t really done anything but kiss. which is fine, but it always leaves you on edge.

you can tell he gets needy too, his hands wandering, groping around as he licks into your mouth. you can feel him try not to subtly grind into you, keeping you firmly sat on his thighs as he kisses you. it’s not something you can complain about, but it’s been sitting in your mind for too long.

even now, late at night at your school’s library, your bored mind is not safe from these thoughts. you look at him through the corner of your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes focused on the practice problems he was given to by his professor. his bites down on his bottom lip, fingers messing with the corner of the page as he tries to remember what to do.

he’s not even doing anything crazy, but here you are lusting over mark while you two are studying. it’s been like this for a whole week, your boyfriend inviting you out to study with him for finals week. are you in the same class he’s in? no, but you will be there for him whenever he asks. you also get a bonus of seeing him like this.

during the first part of the week, you actually did study. you both focused on your own work, took small breaks with each other, then went back to studying. it eventually evolved to you staring at scans of your textbook, eyes occasionally glancing to mark. tonight is worse, you can’t stop staring at him.

you check the time, nearly midnight. you look around and find a few other students, either dozing off or intensely doing their work. none of them are aware of their surroundings, none would see you in the small secluded corner you both are in. you shift a little in your seat, squeezing your thighs together to calm yourself down.

you let out a long groan, which catches mark’s attention. he tears his eyes away from his paper, amusement in his eyes as he presses a kiss to your temple. it takes everything in you to not throw yourself in his lap right there. instead, you place a hand on his thigh as you kiss him back. he lets out a small sigh at the touch, eyes closing from the feeling.

you pull away from him, hand still on his thigh as you look at him. his eyes are still lingering on your lips, pretty and swollen from the kiss. a quiet laugh leaves you, “how much more do you have left?”

“not a lot,” he huffs, “it’s just, i legit don’t think i can do them anymore.”

you smile at him, scooting your chair close to his, leaning your head on his shoulder, “want me to take a look?”

“well, do you know how to do this?” he points to his paper, an equation that shouldn’t make sense to anyone currently being shown to you.

“i’m not as smart as you, but i will be your personal cheerleader.” you press a kiss to his neck, enjoying how he shivers at the contact. you press a few more kisses until you reach his jawline, your hand squeezing around his thigh. he doesn’t try moving, eyes fixed on how your thighs squeeze together.

when you move your hand higher, his hand shoots down to your wrist. you think he might move it away, telling you he doesn’t want to do this here. you’d apologize quickly, choosing to do your work as you hold his hand.

he doesn’t though, he keeps your wrist there, a tight hold around your skin.

you move to put your head on his shoulder again. your fingers trace light patterns over his sweats. his leg begins bobbing up and down, waiting to see what you might do next. you’re almost surprised to see mark letting you go this far. you can feel the heat from his face, and you can see how his chest rises quickly.

you’re not sure if you want to initiate this here, but as you see mark squirm in his seat, you realize you might have to do something. you want him to tell you that he wants this. under the guise of being tired, you shut your eyes, exhaling while your hand continues to warm his thigh. you don’t want to pressure him into this, giving him the option to ignore you if he wants.

he tries. he tries to look at his paper again, trying to recall what he’s supposed to do. maybe he’d be able to figure it out if it weren’t for how close your hand was to his hardening cock. he’s not sure if it’s because of how frustrated he is or it finally dawned on him how pent up he is, but he needs you.

he lets out a shaky breath, your hand not moving from his spot. he shifts a little in his seat, moving your hand a little further up. it’s not where he needs you, but the feeling of your fingers tracing along his sweats has his cock twitching. he’s about to ask you to do something, but you beat him to it.

“do you need help with that, mark?”

he feels your gaze on his now too tight sweats, hard and begging for your touch. he bites back a groan when your fingers trace over the outline of his cock, squeezing at the tip. this the most you’ve ever touched him, and it’s getting to his head too fast. he bites down on his bottom lip, too scared to open his mouth.

there was a reason to all the times he’s pushed you off of him. he was so embarrassed, every time you kissed him on his lap, he couldn’t help but get so close to cumming. you weren’t doing anything intentional, but the feeling of your lips on his, the softs sounds you made, and the feeling of you on top of him sent a rush to his head.

for you to be so close to him, yet not where he needs you is enough for him to buck his hips into your hand. he lets out the smallest gasp. your lips graze his ears, “tell me what you want mark, i’ll give you anything you need.”

“want you to touch me, want you to touch my…” you can hear him swallow, “t-touch my cock, please.”

your hand teases the band of his sweets, messing with the drawstrings, “anything for you, markie.”

your hand finally slips under his sweats and boxers, hand slowly wrapping around his hard cock. this is better than any of your fantasies, feeling how he throbs in your hold. you let him sit with the feeling for a bit, your grip tightening around his length. he lets out a hiss, quickly covering his mouth when he realizes he’s still at the library.

your fingers move to glide over his tip, spreading the precum around, “guess you’ll have to be quiet, right?”

he nods quickly, eyes shaking when he looks down to see your hand in his pants, right where he needs you. he tries not to seem too eager, tries not to look like he’s currently being touched in the middle of the library. his eyes scan the room, everyone else too busy to be looking at them.

when your hand starts moving along his length, he turns to look at his paper, trying to look busy. his hands are gripping onto the table, knuckles turning white as he feels you touch him for the first time. it’s not the most ideal place, but he’s too pent up too care at this point.

your hand feels nice around him. it’s not like he hasn’t gotten a handjob before, but you’re the one touching him this time. 

he’s not sure if it’s because he can see how affected you’re getting by watching him or how good your hand feels wrapped around his cock, but he’s close to cumming. it hasn’t even been that long, he swears that he usually isn’t like this. he bites down hard on his tongue, one of his hands wanting to cover his mouth to stop any moans from coming out.

you noticed how quiet he’s being, and you can’t have that. you know he must be close to cumming, his length throbbing in your hold. you slow your movements, whispering so only he can hear, “mark, won’t you tell me how good it feels? wanna hear how good you feel.”

he shakes his head, cheeks turning pink as he tries to figure out what to do. all he can think about is how close he is, how warm you feel as you lean against him. when he doesn’t answer, you tighten your grip around him, thumb teasing his tip. his whole body shakes, ready to fill his sweatpants with cum.

“mark,” you whine out, “are you close to cumming? aren’t you gonna tell me that you’re close?”

his mouth stays shut, his hips bucking up. his tip is heavily leaking, eyes closed as he fucks into your hand. you can’t believe you get to see him like this, get to see him try and hold back how good you make him feel. it’s when he lets out a small whine of your name when you pull your hand away from him.

he immediately turns to look at you, grabbing your wrist, trying to put together a sentence that makes sense. you let out a small laugh, swatting away his hands that reach for yours. you pout, “you didn’t wanna tell me that i was making you feel good.”

he whisper-shouts at you, “that’s it? i-i could’ve cum… please. just let me- let me try one more time.”

“hm… you still have work to do, right? focus on your work, mark.” you press a kiss to his cheek, leaning back against your chair.

mark stares hard at you, cock still hard in his sweats as he tries to see if you’ll touch him again. in fact, you gesture for him to keep working, eyes watching as he huffs. he turns back to the worksheets, mind too hazy to do any work now. he taps his pencil onto the page, nothing seems to come to mind.

a few minutes pass, mark calming down when he looks at his notes. the problem starts to make sense, slowly writing down the steps to the problem. he tries not to think of you too much, realizing just how quiet you’re being. he knows you can’t stay still for long, waiting for any move you might make.

before he knows it, your hand slithers down into his sweats, fingers lightly moving across his cock. he’s half-hard, beginning to twitch as you make a fist around his length. before he can turn all his attention, you grab him by the shoulder, “keep doing your work, mark. finish your work and i’ll let you cum.”

he nods, but you don’t start moving. you look at him in the eyes, your hand tightening around him, “need to hear you tell me. wanna hear you make some noise.”

he gulps, his whole body feeling hot, “i’ll… i’ll try.”

you make a small noise in excitement, hand finally touching him again. you watch as he puts all his focus on the paper in front of him, not writing anything down. he’s blankly staring at it, licking his lips as his eyes threaten to close. you move your hand faster, tightening your fist when you reach his tip. he’s losing himself quickly, letting out small noises at the feeling.

you push into his side, “do your work, mark. don’t want anyone looking over here and finding that mark lee is currently getting jerked off in the library.”

he lets out a gasp, hands shakily picking up his pencil. he can’t control himself, hips moving on their own as he tries to stop himself from making too much noise. he can feel your expectant stare, just waiting for him to make a sound. it’s when you tighten your fist around his base, slowly sliding up to his tip that he lets out a quiet moan of your name.

you sit up a little further, now fully watching his face as he tries to hide from you. his face is scrunched up, his hips now fucking your hand. he doesn’t care anymore, not when you’re making him feel so good, not when he can feel his orgasm quickly building up.

“f-fuck, your hand feels good. just-” he lets out a small whimper, “keep going, baby.”

happy with his response, your hand moves faster. you can hear the slight squelch of it, his precum helping you glide against his cock. mark looks fucked out, face red as he keeps moving. he can’t help but pretend he’s fucking your pussy, can’t help but wonder if this is how it feels to have you wrapped around him. once finals are over, he will definitely be having sex with you.

you can’t help but let out a whimper yourself, enjoying watching mark fall apart way too much. you bite down on his earlobe, “wanna feel you cum all over my hand. wanna make you feel good, mark.”

he leans back, whining in your ear, “y-yeah, gonna cum all over you. wanna- wanna show you how good you’re doing.”

one of his hands makes it to your thigh, squeezing it for support. he’s losing control, low groans leaving his mouth as you jerk him off. his hips lift off the chair, choosing to full-on fuck your hand. he looks so good right now, and you think he might finally deserve what he wants. you let out a whisper, “cum for me, mark. wanna see you cum.”

mark doesn’t need to be told twice. his hips buck into your hand, his hand around your thigh tightening as he lets out a fuck, a low groan filling the air around you. he feels so gross as he lets go in his sweats, cum shooting out into your hold.

when you feel his cum spurt into his hand, you wrap an arm around him, letting him lean into your touch. he shoves his head into your shoulder, not caring about the loud whines he lets out as he cums in your hand. there’s a lot, his thighs beginning to shake as you help him ride out his orgasm. 

he pushes your hand away at the feeling of overstimulation, you laugh as you slide your hand out. your hand is covered in his cum, and you bring it up to your mouth. mark watches with heavy eyes as you suck your cum-stained fingers, watches how you practically moan out at the taste of his cum. he almost gets hard again, his cock begging for your attention. 

you laugh at him, quite loud in the quiet space of the library. someone shoots you an ugly look before sticking their nose back to their laptop. you and mark giggle together, hushed in the secluded corner you’ve been in.

“out of all the noises you were making, they decided to get mad at me for laughing?”

mark has to slap a hand around his mouth to stop anymore laughs, “i wasn’t even being that loud! you looked like you were enjoying it more than i was!”

you shove at his shoulder in embarrassment, “that’s what happens when you run away from me when we make out!”

“i’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” he goes to hold your clean hand, “now, can i, uh- can you teach me how to…”

he makes some weird gestures, and by the looks of it, he wants to try to eat you out. you smile at him, “of course, mark.”

[almostempty]

dieter's party (dieter x f!reader)

Dieter’s party (dieter bravo x f!reader) | wc: 3k | other fics 

summary: after fighting with your bf and reluctantly attending a party, you find yourself complaining to the host who offers to let you sleep off your emotional hangover headache in the pool house. when your boyfriend finally shows up, it’s a welcome surprise and you accept his apology in the form of sex. but, when you wake up in the morning you’re faced with another surprise. 

note: this is my other version of the accidental adultery trope, only it’s the involuntary cheating/wrong bed trope bc that’s what i thought the prompt was originally! other version is here with stalker!frankie. (this is like a month late for the actual challenge but time is an illusion idc; it’s for u bb @auteurdelabre) 

warnings/tags: explicit mdni, smut, this IS noncon– but it’s not dark vibes (like how the wrong bed trope in media is somehow played off as a ~hehe whoops~ ???), infidelity/cheating, oral sex, piv, prone bone, drugs mentioned at the party but reader and dieter are sober, boyfriend frankie, again, i repeat, this is noncon- but they’re not real and also they’re into it, REAL LOOSEY GOOSEY flimsy plot pls don’t poke at it there are already enough holes to drain ur pasta, kind of ooc dieter tbh  

standard warnings for me at this point: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes aka no beta and limited editing on this bish 

You sit sideways on the lounge chair, digging your toes into the sand and massaging your temples. The voices from the party behind you are easier to tune out as you look out over the water. The adrenaline rush of your anger has passed, and now you’re just left with a throbbing headache. 

It’s not a bad view. But you resent it anyway. You’ve been abandoned by your friend who dragged you to the party in the first place. She’d assured you that it would be low key, just some people on mushrooms having a bonfire on a private beach. The names and the drugs didn’t sell you on it, but the free night at a fancy beach house was appealing

You didn’t know anyone else, and she’d assured you she’d stick with you until your boyfriend showed up. But so far nothing had gone to plan. The cute little beach house is actually more like a mansion. There is technically a fire on the beach and people on some kind of hallucinogenics, but there’s also a party by the pool, and rooms filled with people on the main floor of the house. 

Your friend folded immediately–swooped up by the hot production assistant that told her about the party. You weren’t keen to follow them as they disappeared in search of a quieter room in the house to play tonsil hockey. 

You don’t really blame her. Your boyfriend was supposed to be meeting you anyway. Or, at least, he was before you’d got in another argument before he went to work. You’re miserable when the two of you are on bad terms. 

Frankie and you are both stubborn and can dig your heels in over the smallest arguments. Currently, you don’t actually know if he’s giving you the silent treatment or if he’s just working late. Either way, you figure you’re allowed to be a little pathetic over the situation. 

Yet, you can’t even slink off to have your moody moment watching the waves and the stars. Someone is walking up behind you causing you to sigh. Stiffening, you turn to address none other than the life of the party himself, Dieter Bravo. 

He’s undeniably nice to look at, but you’re still moping. Emotionally hungover and irritable. And stuck at loaded jagoff’s party full of nobody you particularly want to get to know. 

“Party is that way,” you point past him towards the pool surrounded by drunk people with shiny white veneers and ugly jewelry. He’s unfazed by your snark and sits down next to you. 

“Thought you could use some company.” His voice is low and sexy in a stupid movie star way that makes you roll your eyes. 

“That’s not even a clever line,” you chastise him. 

He flashes a grin at you that makes it hard to keep up the glum aura. 

Whatever they say about actors looking better in person rather than on camera is true, and even more so when they’re sitting so close you can smell their expensive cologne. He’s dressed more casually than the rest of the party, but you wonder if it’s part of the quiet luxury mystique with the four hundred dollar t-shirts or if you’re overestimating his net worth. 

Dieter likes a challenge. The more you try to shut him down, the more he turns on the charm and flirts with you brazenly. You aren’t immune. He’s fucking hot, and that builds up your ego. You figure it’s harmless to flirt. You’re busy complaining about the social climbers in attendance and how they must be inflating the ego of whichever rich asshole is throwing the party, when he cuts you off. 

“And which one are you? Social climber or rich asshole?” He asks, squinting at you like he’s going to take a guess. You play into it, making a few exaggerated model poses–framing your face with your hands and batting your lashes–for him to base his decision off of. 

He grins at you with a dazzling smile that makes you break character and laugh. But he doesn’t laugh with you. He just keeps his eyes on you, his sparkling dark brown eyes. Suddenly the moment feels charged, you didn’t realize you were so close, face to face. 

“Time’s up,” you say, “I’m neither.” But he’s looking at your lips now and you’re hyper aware of your heart beating faster. Until his hand slips onto your knee and you balk, turning away with a sharp inhale to recenter yourself. 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” you give him a glare and he frowns briefly. 

“Like that’s real,” he scoffs and turns to watch his pseudo-girlfriend flirting with someone by the pool whose hair gel shines under the string lights. 

“Oh.” You didn’t realize. “Sorry.” 

For a moment, there’s a vulnerability between the two of you that draws you in, wondering what’s behind the curtain with Dieter. His hand, still resting on your knee, squeezes you slightly, and you snap out of his spell. “Well, my boyfriend most certainly is real,” you say. “Unless he doesn’t show up tonight,” you mutter, “then maybe he won’t be much longer.” 

Dieter hesitates as if he might have something to add, but you grimace. You don’t want to answer any follow-up questions. He’s too close for you to think clearly. You stand, brushing off his hand, and give him a smile. “I’m going to do a lap. Maybe find my friend or my boyfriend before the sun comes up,” you sigh and give him a final look before you walk back towards the house. 

Eventually, Dieter follows. 

You go through the motions, introducing yourself to people, laughing along with whoever you find yourself standing next to, and always staying aware of Dieter’s presence. You avoid his path as the two of you mingle and socialize with different clusters of people. But you keep finding yourself catching his eye in every room you enter. 

You weave through the house, pilfering some snacks and avoiding anyone’s attempts to talk one on one. You catch a glimpse of your friend, still entangled with her work crush, and continue on your path. 

The later it gets, the less tolerance you have for the other partygoers. You find yourself back on the chair on the beach. Alternating between staring at your phone, debating composing a text to Frankie, and watching the waves break along the shore. 

It’s not long before your suitor returns, joining you on the lounge chair again. Just as close, if not closer, than earlier in the evening. 

“No luck?” he asks. 

“Avoiding you?” you quip, and he shakes his head. 

“Finding your friends.” 

“Friend or boyfriend,” you emphasize for both of your sake, but he only smiles in return. “What about you? No luck with… whatever your goal was?” you ask. 

He sighs deeply at that. “There’s no goal. I’m just the host.” 

“Oh,” you blink. “I didn’t know this was your…thing,” you wave your hand towards the party. 

“Would you have treated me differently if you knew?” 

“Worse, maybe?” you laugh genuinely. “I’ve got a few complaints to lodge. Too many people, too loud, nobody is any fun,” you list them off on your fingers, “honestly–” 

“Why are you here?” he cuts you off. 

“I don’t know,” you pause to think about the real answer. “Thought it would be better than being miserable at home, a friend convinced me, thought it would be fun to stay at a fancy beach house with my boyfriend. Some combination of those?” 

You pick at something invisible on your dress. Avoiding the heat of Dieter’s gaze. “Now, I’m just stuck outside with a headache. Why are you here?” you counter. 

“I just told you. Did you take something from the guy in the studded jacket?” 

“No. I mean, why are you outside with me? Aren’t there drugs you could be doing? Or there was that guy begging you to do body shots in the kitchen?” 

“Kind of bored of it all,” he muses, scratching thoughtfully at his bearded jaw. 

“Maybe you need a more intellectually stimulating scene,” you suggest. It was more a grumpy dig at the belligerent attendees, but he seems to be genuinely considering your suggestion. You let yourself ogle his handsome features as he thinks. Then his eyes light up and he snaps his head towards you.  

“Do you want to go to the pool house?” he asks. 

Your eyes narrow into a fierce glare and he raises his hands in surrender. “No, I mean there’s a bed. You said you have a headache. If you want to lie down.” 

“That’s not where the orgy is happening?” 

“No,” he snorts, “I think there’s a sex party across the street, though, if you’re interested,” he smirks at you. You roll your eyes at him exaggeratedly and give him a playful shove. “You wish, Bravo.” 

You take him up on the offer to lie down, though. There’s a code to unlock the pool house, giving you a private little escape. 

You decide to send the code to Frankie, letting him know you’ll be here all night. Hoping he still decides to show up. You enlist Dieter’s help. He repeats after you, “Broad, brooding, brown hair, brown eyes?” 

“Exactly,” you confirm. “If you see him, tell him where he can find me?” 

“Of course,” he agrees with a chuckle. 

You spring to your feet, eagerly seeking out your solitude. Halfway across the yard you look back over your shoulder to mouth thank you at your generous host. He gives you a nod and a wink that is criminally hot. 

You let yourself in and explore the space. It’s bigger than your apartment. You pass the living space and mini kitchen, down the hall to find the bedroom. It’s like a luxury hotel suite. You slip out of your shoes and crawl directly into the bed. 

Dieter is still dumbstruck by you. Your our smile, your prickly yet playful aura, your sexy confidence. He lingers outside, caught up in his daydream of you, before he resigns himself to circling back through the house. He shares a few stories, laughs at some jokes, and does his best to enjoy the rest of the night. But his eyes constantly wander back to the the pool house. 

He’s drawn to it like a moth. Except–it’s dark. The lights are off. 

You’re wrapped up in a down duvet and crisp, clean linens. The noise from outside is significantly dulled, most people filtered back into the main house or down to the beach. 

You drift into a hazy slumber, fading in and out. Unsure of the time, too stubborn to check your phone afraid of being disappointed the sun rises before you hear from your boyfriend. It’s still dark out whenever you peek at the windows though, so you keep drifting back off, hoping to wake up to your man. You’re rolling over to stretch, once again, when you hear a soft knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” you reply, not fully awake. 

The door swings open, and he can see you in the glow of the light from the hall. 

You’re luminous even in the near dark, and he pauses before the critical thinking skills come to life and he can see the scowl on your face. “Sorry,” he starts. 

Dieter had been wavering since you walked away from him. Wondering if he was reading the right signals. If you looked back hoping he was following. If he was the brown eyed prince you were really waiting for. Now he worries that he waited too long in his indecision. 

You squint, eyes aching from the bright light in the hallway, only able to make out the silhouette of the broad shoulders in the doorway. 

“Sorry, I thought you might still be up,” he trails off, in that familiar gravelly voice. 

“Fucking finally,” you groan. “I thought you were going to just leave me here.” 

Finally? He was right. 

“Just get in here, please.” You toss the corner of the duvet back, inviting him in. 

He’s still smiling in the doorway, thinking of something perfect to say when you lose patience. 

“Look, you can either get in here and show me how sorry you are for making me wait for you all night, or you can fuck off–but don’t just stand in the doorway blinding me. Please.” You huff, covering your eyes and rolling onto your side to bury your face in the covers. 

You hear the door shut before you feel the familiar weight of his body slipping into the bed behind you, and it’s comforting to finally have Frankie here. You thought you’d be left tossing and turning until the sun came up. Wondering if he was upset or just late. 

He rests his hand on you, feather light but deliberate. You melt into his touch, stubborn words forgotten at the familiarity of his body heat. He moves slowly, tentatively caressing your shoulders as his nose grazes the back of your neck. 

“Finally,” you murmur sleepily, arching you back to press closer into him, moving on instinct. 

“Yeah?” his voice is low, husky and rich. Your favorite thing about him. 

“Mmhm,” you mumble, pushing back against him. “So late…” Your body responds to his presence, a heat stirring that’s impossible to ignore. 

Dieter’s ego flares. He knew there was something simmering behind your jabs. 

“You sure about this?” he whispers against your warm skin, hand sliding up your side. 

You assume he’s worried you’re still mad at him. Or maybe he thinks you’re too tired. You reassure him with whispered affirmations and a soft moan as your back arches instinctually, pressing closer to him, drawn to his warmth. 

It’s the breathy please that spears hot down his spine. Hearing you beg for him, it’s more permission than he needs. He kisses your neck, unhurried, letting his lips linger on your skin as his hands move along the dips and curves of your body. There’s a tenderness in his touch that surprises even him. 

He doesn’t rush, savoring the sounds you make, the way your body responds, and hoe pliant you are for him. Encouraged, he moves lower, rolling you onto your back, and settling between your legs. The sensations are overwhelming. Blurring the lines between dream and reality as he goes down on you with expert precision. 

He always knows how to make it up to you without needing words. You run a hand through his hair and when he groans against your soft, wet cunt it draws you to the edge. He’s greedy as you shudder and wriggle beneath him, eagerly sucking at your clit until it’s all too much. Lost in the moment, you’re floaty, murmuring praise between moans as you come undone beneath his skilled mouth. 

When you tell him to fuck you, he doesn’t hesitate. He rolls you onto your stomach, sliding his cock through your sopping folds, coating himself in the mix of your arousal and his saliva. 

“Oh, fuck,” his raw desire for you makes your tongue go numb. Unable to respond, until he starts to ease into you and the stretch, the angle, the intimacy of his body covering yours–it makes you both groan loudly. He fits against you so perfectly. You’re too drunk with the pleasure to question any unusual differences. 

Too lost in the heat of it all. He presses kisses into your spine while thrusting slowly, languidly, and deeply inside of you. When he lowers his chest against your back you can feel his heart beating loudly, like it’s calling to yours. With the heightened sensations and his velvety rich voice in your ear, he urges you closer and closer to a hypnotically intense, rolling orgasm. 

When your thighs tremble beneath him and you beg him to come for you, his body responds like he’s under your spell. Throbbing and pulsing inside of you until his weight collapses on you. He rolls you to you side with him, staying connected, limbs tangled like vines and he’s mesmerized by you. Listening to your breathing as you fall asleep in his arms, sated and secure. 

When you wake up in the morning, groggy and confused, the first thing you notice is the wrong smell. It’s not your boyfriend’s–it’s Dieter’s. Cold panic floods your body as you realize you’re in the wrong man’s arms. You try to pull away but Dieter’s still asleep, trapping you under his heavy arm. 

A dense, searing mix of guilt and arousal swirls within you like lava as you register his hard cock pressed against you and your recollection of the night starts to clarify. It makes you hesitate. 

Dieter, feeling your movement, tightens his grip around you and shifts. He’s hard and leaking against you and your traitorish pussy is slick between your legs, throbbing like a siren song for him to fill you up again. 

His body unconsciously grinds against you. Your heart races, mind scrambling to make sense of everything. Every kiss, every touch, the way he’d been so gentle and tender. It wasn’t your boyfriend at all. But he made you feel so desired, cherished. Things you haven’t felt in a long time. 

Your breath catches in your throat. The shock is dizzying, but there’s a quiet moment of mutual awareness as his breathing changes. You know he’s awake. Waiting on you before he dares to move again. 

Without thinking you press back against him, heart fluttering in your chest. It’s instantaneous. He flips you around and you’re finally facing him in the soft light. Barely able to take in his besotted expression before your lips are drawn together in an impassioned kiss. 

Your mutual arousal reignites like a blazing fire in the quiet early morning. It’s wrong. But in that moment, the connection between you feels inevitable. It’s as if it had always been building, a force of nature you couldn’t stop. 

The shock and guilt fall to the side. Regret doesn’t get enough light to grow. The anger at your boyfriend’s absence whispers convincingly in your ear. 

None of it matters when you lower yourself onto his cock, eyes fluttering shut, as his hands knead your thighs. None of it matters when you watch the lust cloud his eyes and his plush lips part as you start to move. None of it matters until you’re startled by the jarring sound of your phone buzzing on the night stand. 

You’re frozen in place as the buzzing continues. Dieter grabs the phone, reading the name on the screen. His other hand trails over your hip moving with purpose until his thumb draws a slow, firm circle around your clit. 

“You better answer,” he says, handing the phone to you, “think it’s your boyfriend.”

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

[sushis-wild-imagination]

the meeting the parents scoups fic is adorable! DONT LEAVE MEE HANGING I NEED A CRUISE PART

[bonus maybe meeting his brother cause is it just me or is meeting the siblings the most nerve-wracking part?]

YES FOR PART 2! tbh, I don't have any siblings so I don't completely get the dynamic of that relationship, so I'm not sure how authentically I'd be able to write it :(

here's meet the parents part 2 ! Hope you like it!

Im open for requests!

Meet the Parents Part 2 (Seungcheol x reader)

Seventeen Masterlist <3 Meet the Parents Part 1

It was 2 months after you meeting his parents for the first time. You had finally scored the discount from your aunt and immediately had informed Seungcheol's mom about the cruise. She in turn invited you and Seungcheol to go with them, it was an offer you couldn't refuse.

It was exciting and also very nerve wracking. Although his mom was friendly with you now, she would text you pictures from her cruise trip you spoke about last dinner. It was still the second time you were seeing them in person. You just hoped it was normal and not awkward. Heck you even prayed to god, that never happens.

"You're biting your lip, stop it" Seungcheol points out.

It's a bad habit you had developed, you were trying to get rid of it, you asked cheol to point it out for you every time you did, and he happily obliged.

"Don't be scared" he says and you thank him with a smile.

You were on the way to high tea on the cruise. You decided to meet directly for a high tea. You briefly said hi when you got on the cruise.

You made your way to the dining area and saw a shrimp snack table. Not just a plate, an entire table.

“Shrimp!” You squeal and walk a tad bit faster towards the dining area.

“It’s wet be care-”

Before he could finish the sentence or catch you, you have slipped and lost balance.

You squeal and fell straight down.

You were now sitting in your cabin, holding your sprained wrist. Cheol had got you a plate of food you quite literally fell for, a plate of shrimp appetisers.

"How did you manage to do this!" a worried voice echoes as cheol's mother walks into the cabin.

"I'm sorry I've ruined high tea" you say guilt wrapping your brain.

"It's not your fault, accidents happen, we're just worried about you" his dad says and his mom examines the huge bandage around your hand.

"Does it hurt a lot?" she asks making eye contact, as your wrist lies in her hand, every so lightly, like she'd hurt you If she held on too tightly.

"You should've been careful!" you get scolded, you liked it. No one cared for you enough to ever scold you. Even getting scolded felt good.

You just nod, partially embarrassed. Your hair kept falling on your face during this conversation and you try to tie it up with your one working hand, practically impossible for you unless you do some neck gymnastics.

"Let me help you" she says softly and takes the clip from you and sits on the bed next to you. She combs her hand through your hair and sets it in place to put the clutch.

"I've always wanted a daughter to do her hair and put her in cute dress, instead I got two boys who cling to me" she jokes.

Seungcheol whines from the chair. "You put me in dresses! isn't that enough living your dream"

The memory flashes in his mother's eyes and she laughs. "You made a cute girl, I put bows in your hair, until you grew up and wanted to be like your older brother" she playfully sneers at him.

She plays with your hair a little longer, fixing it to perfection. You don't remember the last time your mom did this for you, this moment made you wonder if your mom ever did this for you at all.

You shrug all that when his mom voice cuts through.

"You have very pretty hair" you smile.

You take your free hand to hold the plate of food cheol had got you to eat something, the shrimp looked delicious.

You saw Cheol get out of his seat to help you but his mom beat him to it cause she was closer anyway.

She quite literally fed you and all you could do was be grateful saying thank you after every bite, you didn't even like chives, but you ate them, without complains.

His mom had definitely taken a liking towards you and you could see that, it made you feel good. As if you were finally a part of something, a part of a family where you belonged.

----

“How are you feeling?” His dad asks you.

You and cheol were out with them for dinner, you rested all afternoon with some painkillers that knocked you out for a couple of hours.

“Much better” you respond smiling.

“Im glad, be careful my child” his mom says and you turn red.

You end up getting a fun dinner and and Cheol insisted on getting on the dance floor and dancing. You happily obliged.

He sways you both to beat. You put your injured hand on his chest carefully, he puts his own hand over it softly. You could feel his hand on your bare back, it sends chills down your spine. He looked handsome. You wondered how you got this lucky. He’s perfect for you.

"Are you stealing my mother?" He asks you, his voice faking disbelief.

"She's literally the best, so yes"

"Don't you dare, Im already sharing her with my brother" he warns you playfully and sulks at the same time.

"I'm glad my parents love someone I love" he adds, tucking a hair behind your ears and pecking your forehead.

"I'm glad people that mean the most to you, like me" you say, fully relieved.

"Like you? They love you" he squished your cheeks.

"Im scared to push my luck" you smile.

Silence took over and you were both just looking at each other with love.

“What are you looking at?”

“Your handsome face”

“Why thank you, Im blinded by your beauty too”

“Why thank you kind sir” you chuckle at the odd compliment.

“Im sorry about high tea” you tell him.

“Don’t be, I just want you safe”

“Luckily, I’m the safest here” you say, cuddling into his chest. You could feel him giggle.

[quin-ns]

Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I’m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

[hughes86-43]

love confessions | N.Hischier

part 2 to this blurb!

note- tbh, I’m not good with angsty writing, so this probably didn’t turn out that good. I still hope you enjoy it!

warnings- not that I know of, but plz let me know if there are some!

Truthfully, you had no idea what day it was or what time it was. Everything had been blur since you left Nico’s house in Switzerland and flew right back to New Jersey, needing to leave before everything got much worse. Although, how much worse could it get when you showed up unannounced at your one-true loves house, told him how you felt, had no clue how he felt, and then his blonde hook up came down the steps. So yeah everything was a blur, and you had no intentions at the moment to fix it.

Currently, you’re laying in your bed, covered up in blankets, wearing the same pajamas that you threw on when you got home two days ago, and your hair up in a top knot. You had no one to see, so you didn’t put much thought into your appearance, that is until you hear a knock on the front door.

Rising up from the bed, you try to think who it could be, since your friend was at work it couldn’t have been her. You adjust a robe around your frame and try to settle down the crazy pieces of your hair. You also try to make your under eyes a bit more better since you had been staring at your phone for the whole day, but you knew there was no use.

Once again, the person at the door knocks again. You look into the peephole and see the one person who you never thought you would see again. Nico. You sigh and yell through the door, “Go away! I’m not home!”

He knocks again, “Y/N! Stop being an ass and open the door! We both know your home!”

You walk over and pull the door open, fed up with him, you reply, “Who do you get to tell to stop being an ass? Clearly, you should be telling yourself that!”

He winces, he expected that he thought. “Can we not do this in the doorway? I just want to talk and explain.” You sigh, contemplating. “Please, just hear me out and then you can decide if you want me to leave, and I’ll leave.”

Deciding to forgo an actual answer, you just turn from the doorway and walk deeper into the apartment, hoping he would get the hint to come on in. He does, and he shuts the door and kicks off his shoes.

You grab a water from the fridge, not bothering to ask him if he wants one. You point to the couch for him to sit while you choose to continue standing. “Well, go ahead,” you tell him as he hasn’t talked in about two minutes.

“Okay, one, I’m sorry about how I acted when you arrived at my doorstep. I was honestly just shocked and hadn’t expected you to show up.”

“Or hadn’t expected someone to interrupt your little hookup?” You let out a dry laugh.

“Stop, we’re not at that part yet.” Nico says as he fiddles with the couch cushion.

“Oh, then what part are we at then?” You ask, standing with your hands on your hips waiting for an answer. Although you’re still in your pajamas and robe, you honestly didn’t care.

He sighs and looks back up at you, “We’re at the part where I tell you that you’ve always been the one, and I just hadn’t realized it.”

You widen your eyes at his words, letting out another dry laugh, “Oh, really? How’d you come to that conclusion? Was the blonde not good enough for you, so you had to come running to me?”

“Listen to me, will you?” Nico says, standing up from his spot on the couch. “The blonde girl was one of my friends, she’s with one of my guy friends, and she was there because she waiting on him to get back. She heard most of the conversation and came downstairs, not expecting to see you there. So honestly, I’ve never hooked up with her, and I had no girl with me when you showed up.”

You wince a bit, “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Nico stands awkwardly there, trying to gauge how the rest of this conversation will go.

You run your fingers over your cheek, and walk to the chair by the couch to sit down. Leaning back into it, you ask, “Then, why did you let me leave? Why didn’t you even say anything?”

“Honestly, I was shocked you showed up at my door. I wasn’t expecting it, and I certainly wasn’t expecting you to tell me how you liked me.” He flops back down on the couch. “I know I should’ve stopped you, and I truly did feel bad, but I still let you go. I’m sorry, and if that isn’t good enough, then I’m still sorry.”

You nod, “It’s okay, honestly I shouldn’t have ran, I was just scared that I let out how I felt about you, and you didn’t feel the same way back, so I was scared that it would end whatever friendship we had.” You look down at your hands.

Nico gets up from the couch and kneels infront of you. He reached out to lift your chin up, “Hey, I know I was stupid for how I acted in that moment. However, I’m still glad that you came and told me how you felt. I’ve been wanting to tell you since forever, but I guess I thought you would realize how much better of a guy you could get than me. Someone that doesn’t have to travel all over the place, someone that would be constantly there for you.”

You move your hand to run it through his brown locks. “Nico, I could never be with a guy that is as good as you. So what you travel so much for hockey, it’s what you love to do, and I’m not going to take that from you. I love you, a lot actually.”

“You do?.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“Ha, yes! Didn’t the whole me coming to Switzerland and spilling my feelings for you, not convey that?” You laugh out.

Nico gives you a big smile, “Yeah. Yeah, it did.” He kisses your forehead.

“I guess we could’ve said this way sooner, if we just got out of our heads about it.” Nico laughs at that. He stands back up and offers a hand to help you up. You take it, and he pulls you into a hug.

Melting into his embrace, you say, “Come on, I’m tired, I haven’t slept in two days. You looked tired as well, so let’s go to my bed.”

“Lead the way, babe. I’m all yours,” he says as you drag him into your room.

[jasmines-library]

As a girl who listens to a lot of metal (all kinds, especially death tbh), I always try to find fics abt the batfams reaction to that, but there’s not a lot to find.

You think you could write that? <3 totally fine if you don’t want/can’t, it’s just such a small thing I think they’d be really interested in!!

Metalhead

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Note: As a metalhead, how could I refuse? Also Jason definitely listens to metal.

Word count: 0.7k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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You hadn’t really been paying much attention to what was happening around you. You had your headphones in and were tapping your hands and feet along to the drum of your music. It was turned up quite loud, so you didn’t notice Jason calling your name from across the Batcave as he returned from his patrol.

“Hello? Y/N?” Jason tried again but was still left with no answer as you continued to be absorbed in your music as you watched the screens.

Rolling his eyes, Jason moved closer, the sound of his footsteps resonated throughout the cave. As he approached you, he could hear the muffled sound of your music escaping your headphones. It was loud, with a distinct guitar sound playing overtop.

When Jason tapped you on the shoulder to gain your attention, you flinched slightly and turned around quickly to face him, hand reaching instinctively for the weapon at your hip. Though once you realised it was your only Jason you let your guard down and slipped your headphones off.

“Hey Jay. What’s up?” You asked him.

“I’ve been calling you.”

“Oh. Sorry.” You shrugged. “I was listening to my music. I guess it was louder than I thought it was. What can I do for you?”

“I was just going to ask you if you needed anything from upstairs.”

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment before shaking your head. “No, I’m all good thanks.”

Jason nodded.“What are you listening to anyway?”

You hesitated. It’s not as if you were ashamed of your music, it was just something you had never shared with them before. Between patrol and training, sitting and listening to music together wasn’t one of your priorities.

“...metal?”

“Metal?” Jason squinted. He hadn’t pegged you for being into metal.

“What?” You frowned, confused by his reaction. Worried what he was going to think.

“Nothing.” He hummed. “Just surprised me is all.”

Taking off your headphones from around your neck, you handed them to him. “Wanna listen?”

“Sure.” He placed them over his own ears and you pressed play on your phone. Soon enough he was humming along to the song.

“You know it?” You asked him as he tapped along to the drum solo on the chair.

“Oh yeah. They’re a great band.” Jay replied. “I wish you had told me you liked them sooner. We couldn’t have listened to them together.”

And you did. You and Jason began to listen to metal together quite frequently. Whether it was when you were training or if the two of you had some spare time in the evening. The both of you would sit and listen to it, sharing recommendations, seeing who could scream the loudest along to the vocalist or just jamming out together

It spread pretty quickly through the manor that you enjoyed metal. And although the others were less keen sometimes they would tap along.

Particularly Damian, who liked to imagine he was in some sort of dramatic fight from a movie whenever it played over the aux in the cave.

Dick and Tim were…less keen. They would listen to a few songs, but often would ask to change it to something a little less heavy.

Sometimes, you would catch Tim listening to it once in a while. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He even asked you once for recommendations ‘for a friend’.

Dick was an avid listener of rock music, so although he was not a huge fan of the heavier death metal, he found that sometimes his music strayed onto the cusp of metal but he wouldn’t listen purposefully to it.

Since they found out that you like metal, jamming sessions became a frequent, not just with Jay but with the rest of them too. And even Bruce would join in occasionally. Though, an effort was made to make sure that when Alfred was in the house it wasn’t too loud because none of you wanted to cross that bridge.

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BATFAM TAGLIST:

@hearts4robs @aestheticdaisies @hell-o-kittys @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @harleycao

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