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jesuistrestriste · 1 year ago

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♡ Nice Guys Finish Last; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: soft dom!art donaldson, sub!reader, afab/fem reader, porn w/ a little plot, penetrative sex, unsafe sex/pullout method, slight edging (reader!receiving), equal desperation, praise, general filth, art is a softie until he's not

wc: 4.2 k

*does not include challengers spoilers!*

prev. art donaldson fic : <3 here <3

It was currently 11 PM in the state of New York, and Art Donaldson was in your hotel room.

Earlier today, you had competed in a long singles tennis tournament for a cash prize, and had beat every other girl in the bracket. You walked away from it with five-hundred more dollars in your pocket than you had walked in with, and a smug grin on your glossy lips.

Art Donaldson had competed in a similar tournament at the same venue, except it involved doubles teams playing against one another. He had played with his typical partner, Patrick Zweig, and they, too, had beat everyone in their bracket.

Tomorrow, they would be playing against one another to determine the ultimate winner.

You had watched them play, and they had watched you play too.

After the venue had shut down for the night, you had begun to wander back to your hotel a few blocks away and coincidentally bumped into the two boys heading back to the same building.

You three talked—or rather, they had buttered you up with compliments as you all went up the elevator, and suddenly you were in their hotel room drinking cheap beer from cold metal cans.

They both flirted relentlessly with you for about an hour or two, before Patrick had called it a night (and had given up on trying to woo you) and told you and Art that he was going to sleep.

Art had given you a look and nodded towards their room's door with a small smile, silently suggesting something. Thirty seconds later the both of you were standing alone in the hotel hallway. He chatted you up and praised your tennis-playing for about ten more minutes, his blue eyes staring into yours with an earnest desire to hold your attention. You had laughed and flushed with a nervous heat while he sang your praises, and then a bout of silence came over the two of you. He looked down to his shoes, letting out a soft chuckle, and then back up to your eyes.. and then down to your lips. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above made the silence seem more tense than it already was.

After tossing the reality of this interaction around in your head, you had realized that his kind, sensitive, charming persona was effectively rendering you weak in the knees..

"You're really pretty, by the way.. i don't know if i've said that yet, but you are," he had spoken in the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the wall as a lock of his strawberry-blonde curls hung in the center of his forehead.

And that was it.

Five minutes later he was in your hotel room.

The both of you kicked your shoes off in the doorway, and then moved to sit on the edge of your hotel room bed. Your chest and hands felt strangely hot as the young, talented tennis player sat there next to you. After a few moments of shared bashful glances, you started to notice things about him that you hadn't before.

Sometimes when he smiled, only one corner of his lips would lift up. When that happened, it looked more like he was smirking than he was smiling, which made him seem either disingenuous or disinterested -- even though it seemed that neither of those things were true.

He smelled like generic aftershave, faint sweat, and warm skin, which was a pleasant contrast to the smell of the hotel room. While the hotel was clean, it was also old, which made the permeating scent of the carpet akin to something like the stale basement of a childhood home.

He fidgeted subtly with his hands, staring into your eyes before averting them to look around at your luggage and tennis bag on the floor.

"So.. you said you're going to Stanford this fall, right?" you say, leaning back on your palms.

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, turning his head to look back to you again with a sheepish smile, “and you’re going to Harvard?”

“Mhm,” you hum, smiling back at him, “is Patrick going with you?”

He laughs a little, his brows furrowing, “Patrick? Hell no.”

You shake your head, “why not?”

“Patrick isn’t the college type. He wants to go pro immediately.”

“Ohh.. right, I forgot he mentioned that.”

“Yeah,” Art shrugs, still giving you a soft look as he shifts a little in his spot on the end of the mattress.

“I think you’re better off at Stanford without him,” you tease slightly, a playful smirk on your face.

He smiles wider, “Why?”

“I think he’d just get you into trouble,” you chuckle.

Art laughs again, a tiny bit harder than he did before, and you’re not sure if it’s because he genuinely likes your playfulness or if it’s because he’s a little nervous.

"You don't think I can cause trouble?" he asks with a small smile.

You shake your head after letting a soft giggle bubble up and out of your chest in response.

"Nah, not really."

"Why's that?"

"You're just so.. so nice."

He scoffs lightly and gently rolls his eyes, reaching up to tuck some of his messy hair behind one of his ears. He chews a little on the inside of his cheek.

"What?" you laugh.

"Everyone me and Patrick meet thinks he's this cool 'bad-boy' and I'm just this.. meek little 'nice guy'," he chuckles, matching your body language now by also leaning back on his palms.

Your smile falters slightly when he does this, but only because now the sleeve of his gray tee shirt was brushing against your bare shoulder, and your faces were a short distance apart. If you tried, you could probably just lean in and kiss him..

"It's not a bad thing to be a nice guy," you smirk, continuing your guys' little back-and-forth.

"Yeah, but there's, like, connotations behind that idea of a guy."

"What 'connotations'?"

He lets out a stiff chuckle, averting his eyes down to his legs before he returns your eye contact once again as he speaks, "I don't know.. that I'm 'shy', or that i 'cant be assertive'.."

You smile, feeling another wave of warmth creep over your stomach just from the way he was looking at you. His eyes were soft but steadily looking into yours, and each second felt like three years.

"So you're saying that those assumptions aren't true?" you tease gently, subtly moving to lean your shoulder against his. He noticed this immediately.

"God!" he laughs, slightly offended but still playing along, "do they seem true?"

"No," you say a bit softer with a smile, your eyes unintentionally drifting down to his pink lips. He noticed this too.

"Okay, good," he leans in a little more, your lips only a handful of inches apart now ".. 'cause they're definitely not."

"Really?" you chuckle, still teasing him.

He nods, "Really, really."

You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your ribcage, and then you started to wonder if he could hear it. Your lips part, little breaths being let out as you lean in an extra two inches. He smirks, and then you feel him move his right hand off of the bed and over your thigh. Its gentle and almost hesitant; giving you the opportunity to say 'no' if you wanted to.. but you didn't. you definitely didn't want to say no.

Your breathing hitches a little and your thighs shift slightly to capture his fingers between your limbs, and he looks steadily into your eyes as his digits squeeze your flesh softly.

"I'm not that shy," he murmurs lowly.

And then his lips are on yours, hot and hungry and eager to please. Your brows furrow as you kiss him back with equal ferocity, and his other hand moves to gently cup your cheek.

His tongue lathes over your bottom lip, and you open your mouth wider so that he can slide it in and taste you better. He groans softly against your smooth, parted lips, his hand between your thighs sliding up to press his palm against your clothed heat. A shaky, barely audible moan escapes your lips as this happens, and he swallows it down as he kisses you harder.

Art's hands then move to slide under your athletic tank top, and he pulls away with lidded eyes to mumble lowly and warmly against your jaw, "can I take this off?"

You nod feverishly, breathing heavily, as you lift your arms above your head while he pulls your shirt up and over. He tosses it aside once it's off like it's trash to him, and then he's diving back in to kiss and suck and nip at your neck. You're sure that he'll leave marks, but you can't find the strength or willpower to deny how hot it would be to look in the mirror later and see all of the little red blotches that his pretty mouth left behind. A few soft "ahh"s and "oh"s slip from your parted lips as his tongue flicks over your pulse point like it’s a clit, and you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. Without further warning, both of his hands slide up to grope your breasts over your sports bra, and your back arches instantly.

"I want to see more of you," Art whispers against your neck, one of his hands moving back to gently grope your thigh right under the hem of your shorts, while his other starts to hook one of his fingers under the elastic band of your bra.

"Yeah, yes," you mumble and nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel his silky tongue lap gently over the sensitive spot on your lower neck again.

He pulls back, his lips shiny with his own saliva, and he lets out a small huff of air as he stands up from the bed and shifts to stand in front of where you're trembling on the edge of it.

Your eyes meet his, and you now fully realize that his whole "nice guy" thing was a facade.. maybe it was just a protective cloak he put on until he got comfortable..

Regardless, he looked different now as he stood in front of you, breathing heavily as his gaze drank in the sight of your body. He takes a step closer, his knees touching the end of the bed as his legs stood steadily between yours. He looks down, shifting his left knee to push your legs farther apart, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a whine.

Not a moment later, he's reaching down to pull your tight sports bra over your head. It drops from his grasp onto the floor, his breathing hitches as he looks down at your exposed chest, and then his hands are moving to roughly knead and squeeze at your soft flesh underneath his palms. You shudder and bite your lip. He thumbs your nipples.

His eyes move back up to return your gaze, and he leans down and starts to crawl on top of you, his body gently coaxing yours to lay back flat over the patterned comforter. You don't need a verbal cue from him to know what he wants and what his goal is; his body did all the talking -- just like it did when he played tennis.

"Fuck," he breathes out, his erection straining against the inside of his boxers as it presses against your bare abdomen. A lift of your hips is all the indication he needs from you to tell him that you're as desperate for this as he is right now, and so he gingerly begins to slide one of his hands down the front of your shorts. His touch dips under the waistband, and then before you can process the sensation, you realize that he's moving down into your panties too. One thing that you are painfully aware of, though, is the fact that he never tries to break eye contact while he does all this..

"Ahh.." you moan, your brows pinching up as you feel his warm fingertips brush over your throbbing, sensitive nub. He was hardly touching you, but it was enough to get the fire roaring in your guts. It was more than enough. He knew all the right ways to touch you.. and all the right spots to squeeze and caress.. which seemed crazy considering you two had never spoken to one another until about three or so hours ago.

He smiles gently, his eyes now moving to gaze down at your lips. The pads of Art's fingers begin to play with your clit, rubbing soft and incessant circles over the ball of nerves as you start to squirm on the bed. His head leans back down to kiss your neck and your hands shakily grab onto his shoulders. A laugh escapes him, coating your flesh in a bath of warm air, while he feels your nails dig into him. Even over the fabric of his cotton tee shirt he can feel this, and he winces slightly before the sting of your grip dissolves into pleasure and he starts to moan along with you.

A few more minutes of this go on, and the band in your stomach is stretched more and more until it feels like it's about to snap, and then-

"I really want to fuck you right now," Art murmurs against your skin, his fingers coming to a pause as he pulls his face from the crook of your neck to look down into your dazed eyes.

You blink a few times, feeling the numbing pressure in your pussy start to fade as he unintentionally edges you.

"yes, please.. I want you to.." you softly whimper, your hands reaching up to needily tug at his shirt.

"I don't have a condom," he whispers breathlessly, shaking his head softly as his gaze falls onto your lips now.

"I.." you pause, taking a second to breathe as you attempt to think over the predicament you're now in, "uhm.. I- well, I don't really care.. as long as you pull out.."

It's almost as if just the idea of him being able to be inside of you—skin to skin; raw—sets him off, because the moment the words leave your mouth, he's letting out soft breathy moans and grinding his clothed pelvis against your thigh. You can feel him throbbing through the fabric, and now you're certain you can't wait much longer. Neither can he.

Your hands pull on his shirt again, forcing his face back down close to yours, "I want you inside of me.."

A groan and a grunt later, he's scrambling to pull his shirt off, and then his shorts, and then his strong calloused hands are gently tugging yours down as well. Art doesn't want to waste time on the act of undressing. Sure, he liked being tender and going slow most times, but this occasion was different. The more that he felt himself leaking into his underwear, the more he needed to feel your silky cunt grip around his cock. Maybe if he got your number after all this, he could go slow next time, but not now. Not when he's like this and you're like that.

When your panties are pulled down with your shorts, Art lets out a groan as he sees the fabric connecting with your delicate flesh via a glistening string of arousal from your heat.

"Jesus Christ," he huffs, his tongue moving to dip out over his bottom lip involuntarily. He pushes your shorts and panties down the rest of the way, and you urgently kick them off onto the room's carpet.

After he moves back up, one of his hands reaches down once again to your cunt. His fingers gently brush over your slicked-up folds, causing your body to jolt and shudder as you struggle to remain quiet. In the next instant, you feel his touch leave your body and you watch in awe as he brings his digits up to his lips and sucks your juices off of them. He rolls your wetness around over his tongue and his eyes roll back a little. He can't help it—you just taste so fuckin' good.

"Art," you whisper, your voice dissolving into a soft whine, "c'mon.. just- I want you to-"

You're cut off when the man hovering over your form moves his fingers from his mouth and down to yours, effectively shutting you up.

"Suck," he whispers.

You do as you're told instantly, parting your lips to engulf his middle and ring finger in wet heat; your drool pools over his fingertips as your tongue swirls around them and tastes the mix of his saliva and the remnants of your arousal.

He watches with bated breath as you do this, his eyes never leaving your face, and he can’t stop himself from pushing his hard, clothed dick against your bare cunt. Your eyes flutter. A string of whimpers echo out into the room from your chest, and you can feel more of your wetness slide down from your entrance.

Art keeps his fingers in your mouth as he uses his other hand to pull his hard-on out of his black boxer briefs, groaning as he taps your clit with the tip of it a few times. Each time his leaking cockhead touches your sensitive parts, your hips buck up. He didn't think it was physically possible to get as turned on as he was right then.

He shifts his pelvis back so that he can slide his dick over your sticky body, not pushing in quite yet, but just teasing your greedy hole. The feeling of your heady moans around his fingers cause them to vibrate, and he leans down close to your face on instinct.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your eyes blink open and you whimper as he uses his digits to gently force your lips to part so that he can shove his tongue past them. Art licks at the inside of your mouth, groaning while he subtly removes his fingers and brings them down to your clit once more. He slots your bundle of nerves between his index and middle finger, sliding them up and down to effectively stroke over your most sensitive area as you feel his cock prodding at your hole.

While his tongue laps over yours, his mouth eagerly swallowing the obscenely loud moans you're letting out as your climax approaches once again, he begins to slide his tip into you. Your eyes instantly open wide before your face scrunches up in pleasure and your hands desperately paw at his shoulders.

He slides in another inch.

And another.

And then two more.

And then he bottoms out completely, filling you wholly with his twitching length as he pulls his face back from your lips to gasp softly.

You look up at him as his brows furrow, and you wriggle underneath him as he lets out a soft growl.

"You're so tight.. shit, you feel so good," he murmurs lowly, his eyes on yours as he starts to slide himself slowly back out before thrusting back in. You can feel him hit your cervix. You'd let him bruise it if he wanted to.

And he wants to.

"Fuck me harder," you moan softly.

"Yeah?" he smirks, breathing heavily.

"Yeah."

He leans up so that his back is straight, and he gazes down at you while he slides his hands under your form to gingerly cup your lower back.. and then he's pounding into you without further warning.

Your back arches up from his hold, and every thrust of his thick cock into your cunt is sending explosions of numbing heat throughout your lower half.

Each movement of his hips results in a lewd squelch as his pelvis slaps into the underside of your ass, and every movement sends you closer and closer to the edge. He's groaning and moaning above you, watching your every move as you squirm around and take him properly. You want to be good for him; he can tell.

Whimpers and needy whines are forced out of you as he fucks you with abandon into the mattress, and your mind is forced back into reality once you feel his hands move from your back to your sensitive tits.

"Are you gonna cum? You're squeezing down on me," he breathes out, a loud groan cutting his words off as he tips his head back. His thrusts grow sloppier, "oh god, oh fff-u-uck.."

"Ye— Uhh- Ahh-!" you hoarsely and brokenly moan out, unable to fully give him an answer. Your hands fist the cool sheets under you as your legs start to involuntarily squeeze together with the onslaught of your impending orgasm.

Art brings his head back up to look down at you, and he shakes his head, sliding his hands down from your breasts to your legs to lift them up and spread them apart gently but forcefully.

"Keep them spread.. I know you're close," he says softly to you, "I promise I'll let you come.. just keep being good for me.. I'm almost there.."

Once his words fill your fuzzy head, you can't help but let out an obscenely loud—borderline-pornographic—moan as your thighs shake in his hold. His cock slams into you faster, but with less and less precision. He bites his lip before his jaw slacks and he lets out an equally loud moan to accompany your filthy noises.

"You're so fucking pretty... you're so— you feel so damn good," he babbles gruffly, his touch digging into your legs as his hips rashly thrust his throbbing length in and out of your sopping pussy.

You nod, unsure of what to say or how to even respond in the state that your body is in. You're somehow limp and tense at the same time, your body shivering as your back arches up again.

"I— I'm gonna—!" you gasp out in a shaky whimper.

He moans at your words, fucking you deeper and messier, before he leans down over you and you can feel his broad toned chest press against yours.

"Say it.." he breathes out against your ear in a soft groan.

You moan, shuddering under him as your cunt starts to rhythmically tighten around him.

"I'm gonna cum," you whine, nearly sobbing.

"Fuck," he groans, "yeah? Say it again for me."

"I'm gonna cummm-!"

"You wanna cum on my cock?"

You nod helplessly, your arms wrapped around his flushed upper back as his cock slides in and out of you; his tip constantly brushing up against that special spot in your velvety walls hidden just a couple inches inside.

"Yess-s-!" you moan, your body absolutely writhing on the bed under his heavy form.

"Okay.. alright," he breathes out hotly into your neck, "go on and cum for me."

Before you can process what's going on, your body is overwhelmed with an overpowering heat as the last thing you distinctly feel is one of Art's hands moving down your lower abdomen to then rub circles over your swollen bud with his thumb. And that's all it takes — you’re thrown over the edge.

"Fuck! OH MY GOD, OH—!" you cry out, your nails digging into his back as he fucks you through your climax.

He groans harshly and loudly against your warm skin before his hips stutter with the feeling of your hole pulsing around him. He keeps his digit rubbing incessant, soft circles over your clit to prolong your orgasm as he forces himself to pull out with a gasp.

His balls draw up and he reaches down quickly with his other hand to stroke over his length just as he feels his release start to rise up.

As you moan tremblingly and bask in your afterglow, you try to catch your breath as you shakily push yourself up onto your elbows just in time to watch Art squirt out a thick load over your torso. Rope after rope of sticky white fluid drips and gushes from his cock and between his fingers as he jerks himself off; shuddering deeply over you and letting out little "fuck"s and "oh my god"s and "yes"s.

After a few more shaky moments tick by, his thumb comes to a halt over your clit as he watches the last drops of his cum fall onto your stomach.

He breathes heavily, biting his lip as he watches your body shake. He loves the way his cum looks on your beautiful body.. it's like liquid pearl splattered all over you. He takes several mental pictures of the scene in front of him before he collapses on top of you with a soft grin.

You chuckle breathily, wrapping your arms around him as your warm bodies stick together in the aftermath, and he presses two soft kisses to your neck. One of your hands slides up from between his shoulder blades to run some of your fingers through his messy curls. He shivers and sighs, sliding his hands under your body to hold you closer to him.

A small period of comfortable silence is held between you two as you both work to catch your breaths, before Art is the one to break the quiet with a soft murmur into your shoulder.

"So.. can I get your number?"

"After round two," you whisper with a smile.

"Deal."

note; this is for everyone who voted for soft dom!art donaldson in that poll + the anons in my inbox asking for this sort of dynamic w/ art <3 much much much love !

divider credit: @benkeibear <3

#art donaldson the man that you are #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fanfic #dom!art donaldson #challengers movie #challengers film #challengers smut #mike faist #mike faist smut #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #sub!reader #dom!character #soft dom!art donaldson

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riddlesrose · 2 months ago

Note

Hi hi!! I recently read your HCs of “kissin him stupid” With the housewardens and I was wondering if it’s possible to request the same thing but with the vice housewardens + ruggie? If not then you can just ignore this, thanks in advance! <33

kissin him stupid pt. 2

w/ trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, & lilia

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

tysm for this request - i didnt know if i wanted to do a part two but if the audience seeks more i shall deliver, and i decided to take jamil's a slightly different route, it's all the same in the end

part one!

trey removes and folds his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. he falls back onto his bed with a defeated sigh.

the mattress dips as you sit beside him, mocking his sigh. he shuts his eyes and smiles, playfully swatting at you like a pestering fly in the summer heat.

“long day?” you turn to sit more comfortably.

“you have no idea.”

“i think i do. you may go prematurely grey dealing with ace and deuce alone, i can imagine adding literally anyone else into the equation would probably drive anyone crazy.” you reach over, smoothing your thumb between his eyebrows, watching as they unfurrow under your touch. trey grabs your hand and kisses the palm.

he sighs again, and you think this is your chance to drive him a little more crazy. you feel for the lipstick in your pocket, and apply it as quietly as you can as you listen to trey recount his day.

you hum in agreement, shifting closer so you’re not awkwardly leaning around his head and grab both of his hands, caging them in one of your own. he could easily escape your makeshift prison but he doesn’t. as he attempts to open his eyes, you cover them with your free hand, rendering him more sightless than he was without his glasses.

you brush your lips slightly against trey’s, then move to kiss his cheek, down to his jaw, then up to his forehead. you remove your hand from his eyes, knowing he understands your goal. trey purses his lips, trying to hide the smile that threatens to break out.

you brush some hair off his forehead and kiss it again, then under his eye, and the other. you notice he’s wriggled his hands free of your hold when an arm wraps around you, pulling you inches closer.

trey leans his forehead against yours, transferring some of the lip marks onto you, “did you know you’re worse than the first years combined?”

you lean back, gasping dramatically. “how rude! for that,” you turn your back completely to him, “i think i’m done here.”

he grabs a handful of the back of your sweater, pulling you back, “hey now…”

“‘hey’ yourself,” you say, smiling stupidly at his somewhat messy appearance.

trey pulls you down further, kissing your cheek, “i surely wouldn’t let them do this, would i?”

you know he meant for that to be cute and meaningful, but you can’t help but drive him a little further towards the edge of insanity, “well, i would hope not? that would be a little awkward.” trey groans as you snicker.

you know he likes you.

ruggie will do just about anything for the right price, everyone knows that. you seem to think that you’ve got his code cracked as he stands in the middle of the ramshackle kitchen utterly speechless because you’ve got him to leave savanaclaw, come all the way here, just to open an already opened jar of olives.

well, you needed an excuse to try on your newest gift from grims grubby, thieving paws.

ruggie turns to place the jar down, still wondering why he needed to be the one to get it open. while he’s pondering to himself about your choices, you call out to him from just outside the door, “you done?”

“uh, yeah. why did i need-” he’s stopped by you as he passes through the door frame, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him to you.

he stumbles but regains himself swiftly, eyes narrowed in confusion. he doesn’t have time to question you again as you let his shirt go, and wrap an arm around his neck, bringing him to perfect height. you start pecking swift kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. ruggie hesitates momentarily, unsure of what’s going on, why you’re suddenly kissing him a lot, and were your lips always that red? no…

he grabs onto your shoulders and pushes back lightly, attaining new open inches between the two of you, and examines your face. he knew he wasn’t crazy. “where d’ya get the lipstick?”

you shrug, “grim, i guess?”

“you guess?” you nod, attempting to return to attacking showering ruggie with affection, but he stops you once again. “wait, wait. what is this?”

“i know you don’t do things for free, it’s reasonable! and i kind of just wanted a reason to kissalloveryourface.” you hide behind your hand by the end of your sentence, trying to make it as inaudible as possible, but with the flush that takes over ruggie’s cheeks, you know he’s heard you loud and clear.

“you’re… insufferable.”

“but you like me!”

jade’s bicoloured eyes follow from his desk chair as you walk circles around his room, talking his ear off about one thing or the other. you plunge your hand into your pocket and fiddle with the items you brought along, only to wing your arm out again to dramatically accentuate your sentence.

the cycle breaks when jade grabs your attention, motioning for you to come closer. you sputter, trying to focus your mind from your tangent back to calm. your hand finds the tube in your pocket once again.

when you’re close enough to arms length, jade reaches out, “what do you keep playing with?” he gently grasps the wrist of the hand in your pocket, revealing the black tube in your hand.

a smile creeps up onto your lips as you un-cap the lipstick and apply it swiftly before jade can fully process what it is. though he’s quick and observant, he’s taken slightly aback as he wasn’t expecting the rich red makeup. it’s not everyday either of you have reason to get dressed up, and as far as jade’s scary good memory goes, there’s nothing planned for tonight.

“it was a… gift of sorts. can i?”

jade narrows his eyes slightly, but nods nonetheless, trusting you’re not planning his imminent demise. you place a stabilizing hand on the arm of his desk chair and use the other to move aside the long black strand of hair the left side of his face. you place a kiss under the spot the strand covers, but you don’t stop. you trail across his forehead, down his nose and press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

you lean back slightly, and are met with jade’s features covered in a light, rosy flush. a sharp toothy grin spreads across his lips as he drags you back, stealing a red-stained kiss, making you gasp.

“oh, no you don’t,” you mutter as you attempt to continue your kiss-ambush. jade throws his hands up in defeat, allowing you to smudge the red makeup all around his face.

jade’s eyes shut as you press your lips against him more and more, until he’s more kiss than eel.

he chuckles when he figures you’re not stopping, “okay, okay… i think i’m more red than i’ve ever been.”

you lean back again, ready to protest but you realize that he’s right. there’s more smudges and stains on his face than bare skin. you grab the tube and examine it, there’s got to be some warning on here that says ‘super, extremely smudging.’ or ‘not transfer proof’ because you now have first hand experience with its ability.

jamil runs a hand through his hair, lightly tugging out a tangle near the end as he watches you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. the delicate, white wooden desk was a gift from vil after the SDC and STYX affairs. he had planned to gift you something of the sorts but it was put on a… temporary hold after he was taken.

what vil didn’t disclose was that he’d left a tray of different makeup items in one of the drawers with a note, just in case you’d ever like to try your hand. many thanks, vil.

thanks to the sneaky housewarden, you have a fabulous idea for the unsuspecting serpentine vice sitting on your bed. you turn on the short bench seat to jamil, giving a small nod of approval. you assume it’s because of the red lipstick that you chose to show off.

you beckon him closer, across your decently sizable room. he raises a brow but complies anyways. once he’s within arms reach, you grab onto the front of his sweater, pulling him close enough to lean up and kiss his cheek, leaving a perfectly shaped mark.

heat instantly rushes to jamil’s face as he frees himself from your grasp and covers his face. he averts his eyes, looking anywhere but you, and it has you thinking what you did was wrong. he quickly notices your concern and starts to feel guilty for reacting how he did but it really caught him off guard.

while jamil’s turning gears in his head, you realize he’s flustered. extremely flustered. embarrassed, even.

you stand, taking a tentative step towards jamil as if he’s a skittish animal that may bolt if you move too quickly. when he makes no move to back away further, you remove the hands from his face, snickering.

you slowly press another kiss to his heated face, then another, and another one until his cheeks are covered and jamil’s attempting to hide himself inside the collar of his sweater.

he wants to hide himself away, to reach out and never let go, ask for more, and run away all at once, or none at the same time. jamil’s conflicted, but the one thing he does know is that he gets to be selfish, and he’ll take all he can get.

rook takes your face in his hands, gently examining the purple lipstick swatches over your lips. “i think this colour is the best one, so far!” he exclaims with excitement. you turn to face the mirror, the colour reminds you of the one vil usually wears.

“rook…” you face him again, he hums.“you’re not favouring this one because it’s the same as a certain housewarden, are you?”

colour instantly rushes to his face, “ah, non! i simply think it is a lovely colour.” suuuure.

“well,” you wipe the purple lipstick off and reach into your pocket. “i have a colour suggestion.” rook eyes the tube as you apply it evenly across your lips, a pleasant hum escapes as he takes in the velvety colour.

you wait a moment as he intently examines the red lipstick with a raised eyebrow, “so?” you question.

“c’est magnifique! where did you get it?” you shrug. rook begins to ramble off about… something you don’t quite understand. you reach over, taking a hold of his collar and bring him to your height, pressing a kiss to his lips, effectively halting his oncoming tangent.

rook falters for half of a second, and you take that opportunity to pull him back again, kissing his cheeks.

you feel his hand snake around your neck, urging you to continue the assault on his features, so you do. you kiss where you can reach, his forehead, nose, lips again, before rook’s practically falling backwards in a fit of childish giggles.

you have to hold onto the front of his shirt so he doesn’t actually fall back into his vanity.

rook calms himself enough to take in his disheveled reflection. he tilts his face around, and starts pointing out the spots you missed.

somewhat shocked, you press kisses where his finger lands, and he’s never been happier. what an odd guy, this rook hunt. but he’s your odd guy, who loves you and your lipstick kisses very, very much.

you lounge across lilia’s cluttered bed as he plays some first-person shooter game that looks unappealing. he strategically moves his little character around, avoiding enemies and wiping out the opposing team with practiced ease, while occasionally opening and replying to his online friend between kills or matches.

swiping on magicam has begun to get boring so you decide bothering lilia is a better idea.

it starts with throwing a pencil at him. then a random stone you found on the floor, then coming up behind him and pushing around his wheeled chair. he swats you away like you’re some fly, trying to pester him to death while he attempts to concentrate. you back away, acting as if you’ve gotten the hint to leave him to his game, but no.

you feel for the tube in your pocket and apply the lipstick quickly. you return to lilia’s side, innocently watching as he blasts through other players like they’re nothing. each time he eliminates someone you press a kiss to a new spot on his face. he’s too focused to realize you’re leaving red stains behind, which makes it funnier to you.

his concentration breaks when the round concludes, and he turns to you. only then does lilia realize you’ve been leaving lipstick marks over his face. he reaches up and wipes a finger across his cheek, examining the colour, with a defeated- yet smug- smile.

you continue as the next round starts but you stop just as his nose scrunches and the screen reads game over, “you really know how to get on an old man's nerves, don’t you?”

“oh, you’re not that old.”

lilia opens his mouth to retort, but you beat him to it, “in fae years.”

you both laugh as he shuts his monitor off, “now, where’s that lipstick?”

“no.”

self indulgent pt 2!!! (sorry for how long this took, anon, i actually don't know why. and ignore if there's any weird formatting problems, i fought with this post too much to care UGH)

masterlist

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crimsonnsstuff · 3 months ago

Note

I feel so nasty requesting this but can u make thanos x minsu and namgyu x reader where they fuck reader and minsu at the same time in the bathroom cuz they voted x? (Noncon, and if ur okay with it piss kink pretty please.. 🙏) Im so sorry if this is too nasty 😭😭😭

Don’t be, we all freaks around here, and I don’t kink shame <3

Tw: foursome, piss kink, dead dove do not eat, knife play, non con

You and Min-su wash your hands in the bathroom. Thanos and Namgyu wanted you and Min-us to vote to stay, but you guys being the scaredy cats you were, you didn’t.

“Do you think they’re gonna be mad..?” Min-su asks, looking down. You sigh, flicking the water off your hands. “No, of course not” you says. Min-us brings his eyes up to meet yours. “Really?” He asks. “No. They’re gonna be pissed.” You say.

Suddenly, the doors open and Namgyu and Thanos walk in. Your heart drops. You quickly stand in front of Min-su. “You fucking dumbasses.” Thanos says, backing you both into a wall.

“W-we..we just wanna go home!” Min-su shouts, tearing up. Namgyu smirks, running a hand through his hair, “don’t you dare raise that pretty little voice at us.” You grab Min-sus hand and try to make a run for it. But Thanos and Namgyu push you guys back against the wall.

“You guys are stupid as fuck. Now we have to punish you for that.” Thanos says. Next thing you know, you and Thanos were on the floor, naked, shaking and crying. “Kiss.” Thanos says. You go to protest but Namgyu pulls a pocket knife out of his pocket that he must’ve snuck in. “He said kiss!” He shouts, pointing the knife at you two.

You and Min-su flinch, Min-us quickly kisses you. You two sob softly into each others mouths. The two boys palm themselves through their pants.

Thanos grabs your hair, pulling you to him. “Fuck his ass.” Thanos says to Namgyu. Namgyu nods, going behind Min-su. Min-su sobs softly, eyes puffy. Namgyu slams into him, stretching his virgin ass and Min-su lets out a broken scream.

“Watch!” Thanos shouts at you, holding the knife up to your throat. You sob, watching as min-us gets fucked in the ass by Namgyu. Thanos spreads your legs apart and pulls you onto his lap so your back is pressed onto his chest. He flips the knife around, and rubs the handle along your slit.

You cry, throwing your head back against his shoulder. He growls and grabs your hair, forcing you to watch Min-su get fucked. You lock eyes with Min-su. His eyes flicker down to your pussy for a second and then squeeze shut, trying to keep himself up as Namgyu rams into him.

“So fucking tight.” Namgyu grunts, throwing his head back as he grips Min-sus hips tighter, pulling him back onto him. You were too busy watching Min-su to realize that Thanos was about to slam the knife handle onto you. You let out a broken moan.

Thanos thrusts the knife handle in and out of you, smirking sadistically. Your back arches and you whimper. “Kiss.” Thanos says, again. You lean forward as desperately kiss Min-su, life on the line and all. You gasp as the ridged knife handle scrapes your insides.

“Gonna piss in this ass.” Namgyu groans, slapping Min-sus ass so hard he flinches. You gasp and choke as you cum on the knife handle. Thanos smirks. “Such a slut. If you weren’t crying, I would think you actually liked this.” Thanos whispers in your ear.

Namgyu groans as he fills Min-sus ass up. He pulls out and Min-su falls foward, gasping for air, gaping. Thanos pulls the knife and wipes your own cum onto your face. Thanos and Namgyu stand up. Namgyu tucks himself back into his pants.

“Choose wisely next vote.” Thanos growls

#nam gyu smut #thanos squid game #squid game smut #thanos smut #nam gyu squid game #min su squid game #min su x reader #park minsu #thanos x nam gyu #cnc k!nk #cnc free use #tw noncon #p!ss k!nk #p!links #p!ss play #gayhot #gay men #gayboy

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sunkissedrafe · 1 year ago

Note

bffs w rafe and he’s obsessed w you. wakes you up by sneaking into your room and yall do stuff 🤭

Locked

summary: the request above!:)

word count: 3.3k

(SPOILERS) warnings: somnophilia(sleeping), dubcon, p in v, fingering, male masturbation, secretive photos, breaking and entering, unprotected sex. MDNI!

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

You really don’t know how it all happened the way it did.

The way Rafe took you under his wing all those years ago. The way he’s constantly glued to your side, going as far as attending parties full of pogues, sticking out like a sore thumb while he marches around, grabbing you another beer when you need it or shooing away the belligerent drunk men trying to hit on you.

Things like this aren’t the norm.

Boys like him just aren’t friends with girls like you. He’s used to a life of luxury; boats, tropical vacations, the most expensive clothes made of materials you can’t even pronounce.

You consider yourself lucky if your water isn’t shut off when you got home after a long day of sweating and panting in the heat.

But the world works in crazy ways, and Rafe Cameron is your best friend.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The two of you sit on the edge of your bed, controllers in hand as you peer up at the screen with wide eyes.

“No, no… Rafey!” You squeal as the screen flashes, letting your head drop down, your hair falling across your face with a huff.

He chuckles smugly. “What, kid?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a sly grin written across his face and amusement laced into his voice.

“You said you’d let me win this round.” You mumble, dropping the controller onto the plush rug below your feet.

“What the point in that?” He laughs as he pushes himself to stand. “Like… how would that even be any fun?” He moves in front of you and nudges your forehead with his fingers so that you look up. You trail your gaze up to his own, his blonde wispy hair brushing his brows. “Quit bein’ a baby.” He gives your jaw a light, playful tap.

You flutter your eyes at him before giving him a scowl, falling onto your back and staring at the ceiling as his footsteps audibly trail across your room.

You hear him fumbling with something near your window and turn your head to the side, raising your brows as he turns around holding your planter with a cactus you’ve nearly killed from incorrectly watering it.

“Look at this poor thing,” he chuckles, turning the planter around and examining the plant. “You’ll never have a green thumb.” He laughs and sits the plant down where he found it, patting his pockets as he walks away from his spot.

You sit up and watch as he settles near your bedroom door and grabs his tennis shoes, bending down to pull them over his feet.

“Leaving already?” You ask meekly, already dreading the feeling of his absence though he still stands in the room with you.

“Yeah, gotta go.” He lets out a long sigh as he stands back up to his full height and leans against the door frame. “Got some shit to work through with my dad tonight. I’ll see you soon though.” He walks over to where you sit, grabbing your hands gingerly to help you to your feet. “There’s talks of a party this weekend, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Consider me your plus one.” He mumbles into your hair. His strong arms wrap around your waist and hold you flush against his body, his woody aroma flooding your senses.

You can feel his warm palms through the thin fabric of your shirt. They slide around your body as he pulls away from the embrace, taking home on your hips with a light squeeze. You glance up and his blue eyes are already locked onto yours, a grin pulling at the dimples of his cheeks.

“Maybe… practice the game a little bit until then, hm?” He speaks lowly.

“Rafe Cameron!” You shout, slapping at his chest as he puts his hands up in defense, chuckling as he steps back.

“Let me know when to pick you up.” He gives you one final grin before shutting your door gently.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you took Rafe’s advice to heart and stayed awake as long as your eyes would stay open- practicing that damn game.

You lay peacefully, breathing deep and smoothly atop your blankets with the controller still loosely in your right hand. Your headset is still somehow on your head, softly playing the background music from the loading screen as you hadn’t had a chance to shut it off before your eyes gave out.

You don’t even stir when Rafe slides your window open, being as careful as he can to avoid the glass planter on your windowsill as he creeps into the warmth of your room. He carefully slides the glass shut once more, bringing a shaky hand up and flipping the latch, locking the window that he had made sure was unlocked earlier unbeknownst to you.

I can’t be crazy, she definitely wants me too. Right?

He turns around with a breath held deep in his lungs, praying to any god he can that the floorboards won’t creak beneath his shoes and that his best friend wouldn’t be awake.

His gaze falls onto your sleeping body, soft and still, and he slowly lets out the breath he had been holding in. The light from the screen illuminates your skin, glowing with the different colored hues as it flashes. He takes discreet, soundless steps towards you as he allows his eyes to rake over your figure.

Your hair is beautifully messy, strewn around on the pillow that you lay back against. He pays close attention to your tiny fingers that lazily wrap around the handle of the controller, one arm draped above your head and the other laid out to the side. He peers at your stomach, watching it rise and fall as you breathe.

His eyes wander up. You’re clad in the same tank top you’d been in when he left, but the way your nipples strain against the thin fabric just begging to be touched leads him to the conclusion that you ditched the bra.

It’s like she wants me to look.

I’ll look. I won’t touch her. I’ll look and leave. And then we’ll never think or speak about this again.

He takes microscopic steps toward your bed, his heart pounding against his sternum. His knees graze the edge of the mattress as he closes in on you and he gasps lightly, backing up so he doesn’t cause the bed to dip.

His face turns red, veins protruding from his skin as he holds in every ounce of oxygen he can to lean down beside you, placing his ear next to the side of your headset. He smirks to himself when he hears the music in the speakers, standing back to his full height.

He shoves a hand into his back pocket, fishing around and digging for his phone. He pulls it out and opens his camera, holding it up for the best angle and capturing a perfect image of his clueless best friend asleep in bed.

She doesn’t know how perfect she is.

Something inside of him wants more, wants to touch every inch he can. But he can’t, he has a goal and a plan. Get in and look then get the fuck out.

What would a couple more pictures hurt?

It’s like he moves in slow motion, he can’t control it as he reaches out and grabs the bottom hem of your tank top. You’d think he was performing brain surgery as he inches it up, exposing more and more of the fleshy skin of your abdomen. He wants to brush his fingertips along your skin, to feel every part of you along the way, but he can’t rush this.

Get the picture and go.

He watches as your plump tits spill out from the fabric, jiggling into place and sitting atop your chest, fully bared to him. His breath hitches and he pulls his hand away, gulping as your lashes flutter ever so slightly. You stir for a moment but you stay asleep.

A wave of relief floods through his body and he lifts his phone again, shakily clicking the shutter button. He takes so many more photos than necessary, moving and catching all the angles of your perfect breasts.

It’s like he loses himself. His pulse surges in his ears, beating so loud he’s almost convinced you can hear it over the music. His body betrays his logical mind and before he knows it, his fingertips brush over your delicate skin. He lets out a groan, feeling his pants tighten against his crotch as he moves to touch the other nipple.

To his surprise, your eyes remain closed and the rhythm of your breathing stays steady.

He swipes his phone over to the video setting, hitting the record button as he palms the fat of your tits, letting his fingertips dig into the skin lightly. His veiny hand explores your chest as the camera picks up all the evidence. He allows his hand to slide down the valley of your breasts, slipping across to your ribcage and down to your hip before he stops dead in his tracks.

This is too much of a risk, you’re being fucking crazy.

He stops his recording and shoves his phone back away into his pocket, biting his lip as he scans your body one last time.

Your body reacts to the loss of heat quickly. Your brows furrow and your cherry tinted lips form into a pout. Your legs stretch and move as your busy subconsciously tries to find a more comfortable position. Your leg falls to the side and your head turns the opposite way.

Rafe is frozen solid the entire time, too scared to even blink. He stays that way for a couple minutes, feet locked into his spot and watching you closely for any signs of rousing from your slumber.

But to his surprise, you don’t. You stay blissfully unconscious, your tits still exposed to him.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until it’s too late. His cock throbs in the palm of his hand as he grips the base, choking back groans as he begins to slowly pump his length.

This isn’t bad, right? It’s just jacking off. I’m a man and she’s got a nice rack. She would understand.

He bites his tongue and presses it into his cheek as he tightens his grip around his needy member. His tip is red and weeping, streams of precum oozing out and dripping down the rolling veins that decorate his shaft.

He slowly inches closer, dragging his feet across the floor as he speeds up his needy movements. The muscles in his forearm tense and ripple as he desperately pumps himself, waves of dopamine shooting throughout his bloodstream as he stands beside your sleeping body.

I’m fucking sick.

He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help it. He reaches out and lets his hand run up your smooth calf, shuddering at the contrast of the smooth skin against the rough pads of his fingers. They trail up carelessly to the expanse of your thighs and he has to hold back the animalistic urge to squeeze your skin.

Come on Rafe, stop it. Stop here.

His internal battle proves itself to be irrelevant as he does in fact squeeze the skin, his other hand giving his pulsing cock the same amount of pressure.

His breath hitches in his throat and he feels like any composure he’s had is long gone.

He brings his hand up and pulls your shorts to the side, not even caring about the audible moan that falls from his lips when he takes in the sight of your wet pussy.

He bites his lip until he tastes the metallic tinge of blood, sliding his hand up and down his cock as his thumb brushes over your clit with featherlight pressure.

You begin to stir, your body jolted by the foreign feeling, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lets the pad of his thumb press down onto the tender bundle and slide down to your entrance, dipping into your sweet center. He pulls back and traces his index finger across your wet slit before pushing in.

“Sh..shit…” he speaks aloud, sitting onto the mattress.

The sudden shift causes you to snap your eyes open, your vision hazy as it adjusts to the light. Before you can even form a coherent thought you’re suddenly aware of the pressure inbetween your legs. You blink harshly, clearing your eyes of the remaining haze and look up to see two blue eyes staring back at you.

His mouth is moving but you can’t make out his words.

Sitting up abruptly, you scoot back and rip the headset off of yourself, tossing it haphazardly into the floor.

“Rafe?” You squeal in shock, your pulse pumping wildly through your veins.

“Shhh.. sweetheart. Please!” He nearly begs, scooting closer to you. “You’ll wake your whole family.”

You look down and notice his right fist gripping around his cock.

“Just relax, okay?” He whispers.

He hooks his finger into your gummy walls and you let out a strained gasp, looking down to see your best friend knuckle deep in your pussy.

“R-rafe… what a-” you choke on your words as he withdraws his finger and plunges back in.

“It’s okay… shhh.. feels good, doesn’t it?” He murmurs, moving his thumb up to rub circles onto your swollen clit.

Your fatigue ridden brain is having trouble keeping up as waves of confusion and pleasure spread throughout your body.

“It… I don- fuck. W-what are you doing here?” You whine, your hips instinctively bucking closer to his hand despite your best judgement.

“Just wanted to look at you.” He croaks as he resumes his jerking motions on himself. “Then I… I just couldn’t help myself.”

The desperation in his eyes shouldn’t turn you on. The way you woke up to your best friend touching your body shouldn’t turn you on.

But even still you find yourself rhythmically grinding against his hand, dropping every single question from your mind as his finger brushes against a sensitive knot in your core.

“Yeah, there you go.” He coos, scooting closer to you and releasing his grip on his erection to paw at your tits. “So fucking pretty. Wanted to put them in my mouth so bad.”

“So do it.” You say before you can even think, reaching up to rid yourself of the fabric that served no purpose anymore.

A smirk grows from ear to ear before he leans forward, cupping the area right below your breast and right above your ribcage to push your skin into his mouth. He doesn’t stop the curling movement of his finger, he adds another one into your now drenched pussy as he sucks and licks at your nipple. You can’t help but arch your back into him, using both of your shaking arms to keep yourself propped up. He hums and groans against your skin as he removes his fingers from your core and hooks a strong arm around you, ridding you of the struggle and pulling you into his lap.

“Let me fuck you.” He whispers against your neck as he leaves hot open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin.

You do nothing but nod eagerly, lifting yourself off enough to pull your shorts off in a rushed motion, him yanking his jeans and boxers down in the process. He reaches behind his head to grip the neckline of his shirt and toss it to the side. He grips the base of his cock as you sit back down and slaps it against your core, making you shudder at the sting it leaves on your aching clit.

He holds himself steady as you line his head up with your entrance, slowly sinking down to take in his length. The stretch is blissfully painful, and you take your time to let yourself adjust to him. One of his hands settles on your hip and encourages you down while the other rests against your throat, not adding pressure but leaving a tingling burn where it sits. When you sit fully down his head falls back and his fingers dig into your skin, gripping around your hipbone.

“So… so fucking big.” You sigh, rolling your hips back and forth.

His ego visibly inflates and he nods slyly. “I know. And look at you taking every fucking inch.”

A strained whine digs its way from deep in your chest and echoes off the walls as you lift yourself up and sink back down. His thick cock pushes against your clenching walls and fills you up beyond what you’d ever thought was possible. You get your rhythm and start bouncing up and down, crying out each time his tip kisses your cervix.

“Gotta be quiet, baby doll. Your parents would never let me over again if they knew I was fucking their little innocent princess like this.” He whispers and runs his fingers over your bottom lip, eyes widening when you accept them and let him lay them flat across your tongue.

You hum around his digits and whimper when he bucks his hips up to meet your own, sending a shockwave through your core. He takes notices and does it over and over, a satisfied glint apparent in his hooded eyes.

Your walls contract and squeeze around his throbbing length as the tension in your stomach threatens to snap. You flash your doe eyes at him and swirl your tongue around his fingers as he pounds into you from below, every ragged breath that falls from his mouth fanning across your skin.

“You’re close.” He says matter of factly. “Give it to me.”

He moves the hand on your hip to the space where the two of you meet, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit. You’re coming undone around him before you have time to utter a response, biting down on his knuckles and clawing at the skin of his chest. The pleasure tears through you like a wildfire, every synapse in your brain firing and focused on the orgasmic relief Rafe is giving you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and moves both hands to your hips, lifting you up and down like a toy as he ruts into your pussy. “Gonna let me cum in you? Let me.” He grits his teeth as if he’s holding back. “Tell me to cum in you.”

“R-rafe, please.. cum in me. Don’t want you to pull out.”

With the dirty confirmation he craved, he releases, spilling hot white ropes of cum into you and painting every inch of your walls. You feel his warmth flood your core and you slump against his chest, rocking with every deep breath he heaves.

You sit like this for a while, sweaty and sticky and fucked out as he lazily runs his hands up and down your bare back. The beat of his heart against his chest is almost enough to put you back to sleep, but you whine when he lifts you off of his body and sits you back in your original position against your pillows. You sit in silence as he collects his clothes and redresses, smoothing his hair with his hands.

He slowly makes his way back to the bed and uses an arm to keep himself steady as he leans down and places a lingering kiss to your temple. He stands up without a word and walks to your window, undoing the latch and pushing it up. He turns around with a smirk and a deep chuckle before he crouches down.

“Gotta make sure to keep this thing locked.”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88

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amourane · 11 months ago

Text

falling for you

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, college au

w/c: 2.6k

summary: in which soonyoung struggles to ask you out on a date.

warnings: none!

a/n: if you saw the first post u didn't cuz tumblr made a mess of it and now i gotta repost it TT

"Jihoon!" A voice hissed from behind him. "Jihoon, here! Behind you!" He spun around to face...a bush.

"When did plants learn how to talk?"

"It's me you idiot!" A hand shot out grabbing Jihoon's arm, pulling him into the bush. Soonyoung had twigs, leaves and something that looked like a ladybug but no one could ever be so sure. He was fiddling with the hem of his sweater, his cheeks bright red. “I just saw Y/n!”

“So?” Soonyoung’s eyes bulged incredulously like Jihoon was supposed to know why his best friend looked like he had been living in the wild for a week.

“Jihoon, you don’t just reply with ‘so’ and make it some question. You should know this!” Soonyoung shook his friend by his shoulders, squishing his cheeks painfully. “Obviously it’s because I saw her walk by and obviously I went up to talk to her but obviously I fell. I don’t even know how I fell and I was going to stand back up and continue to talk to her but she was already gone. And I have this huge stain.” He pointed to the brownish green patch on his white cotton sweater. “Everything’s just a mess!”

“Okay first of all, calm down Shakespeare.” Jihoon rolled his eyes, picking his best friend up. He tugged the sweater over Soonyoung’s head. “You could’ve just taken this off, you’ve got a shirt underneath anyway. And it’s been a week and you still haven’t asked her out?”

“Well, it’s hard alright.” Soonyoung nibbled his bottom lip. “Also Mingyu’s always around her and I can never seem to get her alone.”

“Now you’re just making excuses.”

Jihoon knew his best friend. He knew Soonyoung. If Soonyoung wanted something he’d probably fight the world for it. He remembered that one time he’d been so desperate to win Mario Kart against Jihoon that he’d dumped his water all over him. Jihoon was positively fuming, not because he’d lost but because Soonyoung had gotten his favourite shirt wet.

Needless to say, Kwon Soonyoung would eat avocados for the rest of his life if it meant he’d get to ask you out. That was why it was weird that the guy who could probably fight zombies single handedly in an apocalypse couldn’t ask a cute girl out.

“Hey what’s this?” Jihoon reached for the piece of paper hanging out of Soonyoung’s pocket. The boy flushed red, trying to grab the paper back from Jihoon. When he realised it was no use he slumped back a pout evident on his face.

“You’re not allowed to judge me-”

“You really are a dork.” Jihoon snorted, examining the A3 piece of paper with ‘ASKING Y/N OUT’ scrawled on the top in big black marker. The page was filled with annotations and little diagrams that were all coloured in neatly. All the possibilities were drafted out, some more silly than others. “You were thinking of taking her to NASA?!”

Soonyoung’s ears burned. He squirmed. “I mean it’s always a possibility but I think that would kind of ruin me.”

Jihoon watched as his best friend avoided his gaze, fingers anxiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smiled. He’d never seen Soonyoung this nervous to ask a girl out. It was oddly endearing. He continued to scan the paper, a little shocked that Soonyoung had put so much effort into this plan.

So this was definitely not a little crush.

“Okay listen.” Jihoon grabbed Soonyoung’s shoulders. They were currently outside the classroom you were in. He had devised this plan perfectly so that Soonyoung would actually ask you out without embarrassing himself. “Y/n’s going to come out here in approximately five minutes. You’re going to walk up to her and say ‘are you free this Saturday?’ and then she’ll say yes and then BAM instant date!” He clapped his hands together for exaggerated effect.

“Jihoon, where are my flowers? And I can't be wearing this!” Soonyoung grabbed his black hoodie. “I can’t ask Y/n out like this. We need a suit and I need roses and some type of confectionery to win her over!”

Jihoon blinked like an owl. C-Confectionary?! Who the hell speaks like that anymore? Clearly Soonyoung had been watching too many romance movies. “You don’t need flowers or some fancy clothes to win Y/n over. You just need you, she likes you, not some dolled up Barbie.”

“It’s actually Ken who’s the main male-”

“Oh look here she comes.” He pushed Soonyoung hard. The poor boy stumbled clumsily, promptly bashing into you. He had to stop doing that. “Go get her!” Was all Soonyoung heard before he felt his soul die.

You held Soonyoung steady. A small giggle left your lips. He blushed. You were even cuter today. Which was normally impossible but you were obviously special. The sweet smile you gave him nearly had him fainting.

What was it Jihoon had said again? Oh yes, ask you out. He could do this.

“Did you need something Soonyoung?”

Your voice was gentle and soft like a marshmallow. He could feel himself melting just at your words. Nope can’t do this. Soonyoung nearly spun around but when he caught sight of Jihoon’s deadly glare he retreated. Jihoon wasn’t someone you wanted to get angry. Guess he was going to have to do this.

“I...um…” He waved his arms around pathetically. It didn’t help that you were looking at him so innocently. “T-This Saturday you free...?” Soonyoung wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks burn bright red and he coughs. Not only did he completely butcher the English language but his voice cracked. Cracked!

“I’m free this Saturday.” You grinned, eyes twinkling. Soonyoung felt his heart flutter. “I’ll text you okay?” You tucked a piece of paper into his hand before waving at him as you caught up to Mingyu. He watched as the two of you talked, you bursting into a fit of giggles, blushing.

The whole situation had happened so quickly it had made his head spin. A loud smack on his back brought Soonyoung back to reality. Jihoon stood behind him with a proud grin on his face.

“Now we’ve just got to get you through this date.”

Soonyoung checked his watch for what felt like the upteenth time. It read, 11:13. He had said to meet him at 11 o’clock but maybe he was just early. Maybe you were stuck in traffic or something. He had spent about half an hour picking his outfit, with help from Jihoon of course because he could never decide on anything.

It did look a little pathetic. Soonyoung sighed. Did you stand him up? You wouldn’t be that mean, would you?

“Soonyoung!” You were panting behind him, looking as if you had just run a marathon. Your chest heaved. “I'm so sorry. I lost track of time and everything kind of just went haywire-”

“I-It’s okay.” Soonyoung squeaked, wringing his hands. His eyes tried not to drift towards your chest. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that hugged your body, little flowers dotted all over. The thin straps on your shoulders were tied in little bows at the top. He swallowed.

“You’re not upset?” Your eyes were wide. The familiar scent of your jasmine perfume wafted to Soonyoung's nose and he shook his head. He could never be upset with you, that’d be ridiculous. You smiled. “Well, where are we heading?”

He gave you a small grin. To say that Soonyoung has connections with people was an understatement. He had connections with everyone. That sounded a bit weird but everyone knew Soonyoung. It wasn’t like the town was small or anything, he was just known by everyone. Even the grumpy old lady that sold newspapers knew him.

Now normally he would have a plan for this, it was all written down. Sadly, Jihoon had ripped it up and threw it in the bin. Apparently having a plan was lame. Totally untrue, it was great to be prepared.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh my god!” You nearly tumbled to the ground at your shock. “How did you even manage to get in here? Isn’t this the Hong’s?”

In front of you were rows beyond rows of strawberry bushes. The field seemed to stretch on forever. There was only one family in town that owned so many acres of land, the Hongs. You’d met their son, Joshua Hong, a couple of times at campus but everyone knew their strawberry fields were off limits.

“My mum’s friends with Mrs Hong, used to go over to hers every week with apple pie. Me and Shua were friends for a while but then he got caught up in music and me, dancing. We still talk and I was lucky enough to get us in.” Soonyoung shrugs. “And it’s strawberry picking season.”

“Most boys would bring their date out to a fancy restaurant.” You picked a strawberry, popping into your mouth, savouring the sweet taste. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this.”

Soonyoung tried not to smile too wide. He couldn't contain his excitement. At first he wanted to take you to a lot of places in one day but Jihoon had said it was impossible to take you to the cinema, zoo, aquarium, ice cream shop and laser tag in 24 hours. So he settled on strawberries. Everyone loved strawberries, plus it was free because he knew Joshua.

You slowly intertwined both of your fingers, holding his hand. Soonyoung felt his cheeks flare an embarrassing red as his eyes trailed down to both of your clasped hands. He felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. There wasn’t a lot he could do but try not to faint.

A small smirk crept up on his lips as he handed you a basket. “We’ll make a deal.”

“A deal?” You looked at him confused, taking the basket. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s say, whoever picks the most strawberries decides where we’re having lunch and they pay as well.”

“Chivalry really is dead.” You rolled your eyes. If Kwon Soonyoung wanted to bet that he would pick more strawberries than you, then he best be prepared for war. You contemplated the thought. If you were to win you’d probably empty his pockets but if he won he would empty your pockets. It’s a 50/50 chance.

You must have stayed silent for a tad too long because Soonyoung grew worried.

“W-We don’t have to if you don't want to-”

“Fine. No rules, just as many as we can pick.” You shook his hand, a playful grin on your face. “Be prepared to lose Kwon.” You dashed away.

“Hey, you’re cheating!”

“No rules remember!”

Soonyoung stood still, mouth open like a goldfish. He finally snapped out of it, chasing after you, determined to win. There was no way he was going to let you beat him.

Or maybe he will.

Soonyoung grasped his basket tightly. It was already nearly full with ruby red strawberries. No doubt they were sweet and juicy. He hadn’t seen you since you left him and it was slightly worrying. Hopefully you were fine. Hopefully.

"Y/n?" He calls over the bushes. No reply. Soonyoung trudged forward, still looking for you. A twig snapped from behind him. "Y/n?" He spun around only to see you reaching a hand inside his basket plucking a strawberry and stuffing it into your mouth.

"They're really yummy, I should thank Joshua when I see him." You giggled, turning to flee again but this time Soonyoung grabbed your hand. A small squeak escaped your lips.

"Don't you dare run away." His tone was light and teasing. You shrieked when he popped one of your strawberries into his mouth. "No rules remember." He smirked, playfully flicking your forehead. You threw a strawberry at him which he dodged. You pelt another and another. One hits him and you stifle your laughs.

Soonyoung pulled you forward and you shut up. He leaned forward, breath fanning your face. You instinctively fluttered your eyes shut.

"I'll see you later." He whispered, causing you to snap open your eyes, mouth dropping to the ground. You watched dumbfounded as he ran away. What happened to the shy Soonyoung?

“I only lost because you ate all of mine.” You pouted, folding your arms defiantly. It wasn’t your fault that he was so devastatingly cute that you just had to offer him some of your strawberries. He stole them from you, even if he insisted that you gave them willingly.

“You’re in denial Y/n.” Soonyoung skipped happily next to you, swinging his full basket. Your pout deepened. “Now where’s the most expensive place to have lunch?” He pulled his phone out, tapping a few times before a smug grin took over his face.

“You’re going to empty my pockets.” You whined.

Soonyoung grinned. “Come on we’ve got to catch the train otherwise we’ll be late. I’ll pay for the tickets.” A small smile flitted across your face before it reverted back into a pout. You huffed, letting Soonyoung clasped your hand as the two of you walked away. “If it makes you feel any better, you can have my strawberries.”

“I just wanna know what was with the personality change back then?”

His cheeks flushed bright red. “I can be confident too…”

“Don’t doubt it. I’ve seen you dance.” The look he gives you has you rolling your eyes. “You’re a totally different person when you’re in the studio.”

His cheeks flushed bright red again causing you to burst into a fit of giggles.

“So what you’re saying is that the bill is too expensive and right now you’re hiding in the bathroom and, might I remind you, you left poor Soonyoung to fend for himself.” Mingyu said through the phone.

“It sounds worse when you say it aloud.”

“You can’t just ditch him Y/n, what are you going to do, climb out a window and escape?” He hissed. You stared at the tiny window at the back. If you did it right you could squeeze through. “If you’re thinking about climbing out of a window I will stop feeding you my brownies.”

“Hey hey hey. No need to deprive my need for brownies Gyu, have some respect.” He snorted, muttering under his breath. “I can still hear what you’re saying.”

“Good.”

Okay maybe running inside the bathroom and hiding in a stall wasn’t going to solve all of our problems. But the bill was hefty and you would probably land yourself in prison if you did manage to pay for it. Also you couldn’t climb out of the window because you really did need those brownies.

“I want you to go out there and say you can’t pay for it and ask Soonyoung to pay for it.”

“Gyu are you crazy?”

“You’re the one in a bathroom stall, not me.” And with that he hung up leaving you alone. You could do this. It was not that hard, not that hard.

Soonyoung was still sitting at the table where you left him but this time all the plates had been cleared and he was staring at his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Thought you were gonna do something illegal. Don’t worry, I paid for everything.”

“D-Did you rob a bank before we came here?” Your mouth was hanging open. That was the only option, unless he really did have enough money but everyone your age was practically broke so…

Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “You didn’t actually think I was going to let you pay for all of that? You’re cute.”

You were left gaping as he took your hand. What just happened? He said your line, your line. You were meant to call him cute. Soonyoung seemed to sense how confused you were because he shot you a dazzling smile.

“Told you I can be confident.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt fluff #svt imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #svt x reader #soonyoung scenarios #kwon soonyoung x reader #hoshi imagines #hoshi scenarios #seventeen fluff #soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung imagines

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pretty-little-mind33 · 1 year ago

Text

James Potter x muggle fem!reader

Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.

Genre: Fluff <3 / pt.2 to Enchanted

Warnings: tbh none

6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.

He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.

James sees the title; "Bewitched". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like Samantha does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing.

"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses.

He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble.

"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?"

James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.

He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you?

"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him.

"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?"

James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.

"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.

At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms.

The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."

"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens.

He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."

"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.

James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard."

He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.

He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.

You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James.

You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."

You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs.

"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."

"Gryff-what won what?"

"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."

You look at him and James can't read your expression.

"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.

Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.

"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.

"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.

"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"

You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"

James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears.

Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound.

"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him.

You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you.

"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"

"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.

You nod.

James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips.

"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile.

James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says.

You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"

James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order.

James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.

"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you.

He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."

"Why?"

"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.

"You WhAT?!"

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kaiyunsim · 20 days ago

Text

if i say i love you —

pairing : ot6!bnd x staff m!reader

summary : six boys, one you, and an unspoken competition that absolutely no one admits to. somehow, you’re still completely oblivious.

warnings : fluff, not poly, each boy fighting over one another to get to you, kinda cliché

a/n : sorry anon if it’s not what you imagined :( i tried to get it out sooner but my head empty.

queueing : if i say i love you - boynextdoor, but i like you - boynextdoor, russian roulette - red velvet

[requested]

— wc : 6.0k — not proof read —

you don’t think much of it at first.

working with boynextdoor is easy, at least compared to some of the other groups you’ve worked with. they’re fun, loud but not in a bad way, and they make your job more entertaining than stressful.

jaehyun is a bit of a mess, but he listens when you talk and tries to be helpful. sungho is sharp. he catches onto things quickly and has a habit of teasing you whenever he gets the chance. riwoo is cool, the kind of guy who doesn’t need to say much to make you feel like he’s paying attention. woonhak is chaos personified, always keeping you on your toes. taesan is effortlessly charming, the kind of guy who knows exactly what he’s doing when he flirts. and leehan… leehan mostly stays in the background, at least at first.

but then things start to shift.

it’s subtle, in the beginning.

jaehyun starts lingering more, standing beside you even when there’s no real reason for him to be there. he’s not the smoothest about it either. one time, you catch him fixing his hair in the reflection of a camera lens before turning to you like he didn’t just spend the last minute making sure he looked good.

“what do you think?” he asks, gesturing vaguely at himself.

you raise an eyebrow. “about what?”

he falters. “just… in general.”

sungho, who’s been watching from the side, snorts. “that was terrible.”

jaehyun groans, rubbing the back of his neck. you laugh, shaking your head before moving on to check the schedule. behind you, sungho pats jaehyun’s shoulder like he’s both proud and disappointed.

then there’s riwoo. he doesn’t say much, but you notice the way he’s always nearby. he’s good at making himself seem casual, like he just happens to be where you are. when you’re going over schedules, he leans over your shoulder, humming in acknowledgment whenever you say something. when you adjust a mic pack on one of the members, he’s right there, watching with quiet focus.

“you okay?” you ask him once, catching him staring.

he blinks, then nods. “just watching.”

woonhak, on the other hand, isn’t subtle at all.

he’s the type to cling, throwing an arm around your shoulders or dramatically leaning against you like he’s exhausted. he finds ways to drag you into whatever chaos he’s creating, whether it’s an impromptu dance-off or a dumb bet against one of the others.

“if i win, you have to buy me food,” he declares one day, challenging sungho to some ridiculous game.

“and if you lose?” you ask, arms crossed.

he grins. “then you have to buy me food.”

“that’s not how bets work.”

“it is now.”

taesan, though. taesan is different.

he’s smooth, casual in the way he flirts. it’s never too much, just enough to make you wonder if he’s being serious.

“you always take such good care of us,” he says one day, voice lower than usual. “you’re making it hard not to fall for you.”

you roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder. “get back to rehearsal, pretty boy.”

he winks before jogging off, and you pretend not to notice the way your ears feel warm.

leehan is the hardest to read.

at first, he doesn’t really do anything. he stays in the background, observing more than he interacts. but you start noticing things. how he pays attention to what you say, how he picks up on small details about you that even you don’t realize you’ve shared.

one day, you’re standing by the monitors, watching the members run through their performance. leehan steps up beside you, hands in his pockets.

“you’ve been busy today,” he says.

you shrug. “it’s work.”

he nods but doesn’t say anything else. still, he stays next to you until the song ends.

it all builds up gradually, until you start to feel like something is… off.

you don’t realize you’ve become the center of some unspoken competition until one day, when they’re all gathered in the same room, the tension finally bubbles over.

“you’ve been hogging him all day,” sungho points out, arms crossed as he looks at jaehyun.

“what? no i haven’t!” jaehyun protests, looking guilty.

“you kind of have,” woonhak chimes in. “not very smoothly, either.”

jaehyun glares. “like you’re any better?”

riwoo, leaning against the wall, sighs. “this is stupid.”

“you’re only saying that because you’ve been pulling the ‘silent and mysterious’ card,” taesan retorts.

leehan just watches, expression unreadable.

you, meanwhile, stand in the middle of it all, blinking. “what is going on?”

the room falls silent.

they all look at you, then at each other.

and then, as if realizing at the same time that they’ve just exposed themselves, they all start talking at once.

“nothing—”

“they started it—”

“it’s not what it looks like—”

you cross your arms. “really? because it kind of looks like you’re all fighting over something.”

more silence.

finally, woonhak, ever the wildcard, sighs dramatically. “fine. we might be… competing a little.”

you blink. “competing? for what?”

the room goes dead silent.

jaehyun scratches his head, sungho looks away, riwoo suddenly finds the floor interesting, taesan just smirks like he’s in on a joke you’re not, and leehan just smirks like the oddball he is.

you look between them, waiting for an answer. when none comes, you huff. “whatever. you guys are weird.”

sungho snickers. “and you’re slow.”

you frown. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” jaehyun blurts out, a little too quickly.

you narrow your eyes at them but decide it’s not worth the headache. turning on your heel, you wave them off. “i don’t get paid enough for this.”

as you walk away, you can hear them whispering behind you.

definitely weird.

—

you don’t think much of it when jaehyun asks if you want to grab food.

it’s after a long day, and you’re usually with the members anyway, so it doesn’t feel out of the ordinary. besides, you’re hungry, and jaehyun’s easy to be around, even if he’s kind of a mess half the time.

“there’s this place near the dorms,” he says, practically bouncing as you walk out together. “i swear, best tteokbokki i’ve ever had.”

you raise an eyebrow. “you say that about every place.”

“okay, but this time i mean it.”

jaehyun has this energy about him. excitable, a little all over the place, but never in a way that’s overwhelming. it’s actually kind of nice. you’re used to being the staff member, the one who has to be responsible, keep things in check. but with jaehyun, it’s easy to just relax.

you get to the restaurant, and it’s small but cozy, the kind of place you know he’s been to a lot.

“i got this,” he says confidently, grabbing the menu. “order whatever you want.”

you glance at him, amused. “jaehyun, you don’t have to—”

“nah, i insist,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “my treat.”

you sigh, but you don’t argue. he looks way too proud of himself, like he just won some grand prize.

the two of you chat while waiting for the food, and you have to admit. jaehyun’s fun. he’s got this dumb sense of humor that somehow always lands, and he doesn’t mind laughing at himself, which makes conversations easy.

everything is going fine. until, of course, jaehyun is jaehyun.

he gestures a little too enthusiastically while talking about some game he’s been obsessed with, and before you can react, his elbow knocks over his drink.

straight onto his lap.

“oh, come on,” he groans, jumping up as ice cubes scatter everywhere.

you try not to laugh. you really do. but the way he stands there, arms slightly raised like he has no idea what to do, makes it impossible.

“dude,” you snort, shaking your head. “how do you even function daily?”

“poorly,” he admits, grabbing a handful of napkins and dabbing at his soaked jeans. “very poorly.”

you take pity on him and help, handing over more napkins while he mutters about how he’s never trusting himself with drinks again.

when the food arrives, he finally sits back down, slightly damp but mostly unbothered. “okay. we forget that ever happened.”

“sure,” you say, still amused.

despite the disaster, the rest of the meal is nice. jaehyun’s easy to talk to, and before you know it, you’ve been sitting there for over an hour, laughing and chatting like you’ve known each other forever.

and that’s the thing about him. he might be clumsy, but there’s something about the way he talks, the way he is, that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.

when you finish eating, you both step outside, stretching a little after sitting for so long. the air is cooler now, but it feels nice after being inside for so long.

“see?” jaehyun says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “great tteokbokki.”

you nod. “i’ll give you that.”

he grins, clearly pleased.

and then—

“yo,” a voice calls from nearby.

you both turn to see riwoo leaning against a streetlamp, looking effortlessly cool like he just happened to be there.

except you’re pretty sure he didn’t just happen to be there.

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “what are you doing here?”

riwoo shrugs. “just walking.”

“right,” jaehyun deadpans. “because you love walking around alone at night for no reason.”

you glance between them, confused. “wait, do you guys live around here?”

“we do,” jaehyun says, still eyeing riwoo suspiciously.

riwoo, on the other hand, looks completely unfazed. “you heading back?”

before you can answer, jaehyun speaks up. “yeah, we were—”

“cool,” riwoo interrupts. “i’ll walk with you.”

jaehyun’s eye twitches.

you don’t notice, though, because you’re already nodding. “sure.”

and just like that, your quiet walk back turns into a not-so-quiet one, with riwoo now in the mix.

jaehyun tries to reclaim the conversation, bringing up some random story, but riwoo effortlessly slides in with his usual coolness, making you laugh at the dry comments he sneaks in.

jaehyun glares. riwoo smirks.

you? completely oblivious.

by the time you reach the building, jaehyun looks like he wants to throw something at riwoo’s head.

“anyway,” jaehyun says loudly, stepping in front of you. “we should do this again sometime.”

before you can reply, riwoo cuts in smoothly. “actually, you’re free tomorrow, right?”

jaehyun’s jaw drops. “excuse me?”

riwoo ignores him, looking at you. “there’s this cool place i think you’d like. want to check it out?”

you blink. “uh, sure?”

jaehyun throws his hands in the air. “unbelievable.”

riwoo just pats his shoulder before turning back to you. “i’ll text you.”

and with that, he walks off, leaving jaehyun standing there, fuming.

“did that just happen?” jaehyun asks, staring after him.

you shrug. “i guess?”

jaehyun groans, rubbing his face. “i hate him.”

you laugh, patting his arm. “come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“you don’t get it,” he grumbles.

he doesn’t explain what he means, though. and you don’t press, still completely unaware of the chaos unfolding around you.

but jaehyun?

jaehyun knows.

and now, thanks to riwoo, the competition just got a whole lot harder.

—

it isn’t until the next evening that you realize you never actually asked where you were going with riwoo.

you check your phone, scrolling up to his last message. riwoo: meet me at the park near the dorms. 7pm.

simple. direct. nothing flashy. it fits him.

when you get there, riwoo’s already waiting, hands in his pockets, his usual unreadable expression in place.

“hey,” he greets casually.

“hey,” you reply, falling into step beside him as he starts walking.

it’s quiet for a moment, but it doesn’t feel awkward. riwoo isn’t the type to fill silence just for the sake of it, and for some reason, you don’t feel the need to either.

the park is peaceful at this hour, the sky fading into soft hues of orange and pink. the sounds of distant chatter mix with the rustling leaves, and you find yourself relaxing, the weight of the day lifting without you even noticing.

“you come here often?” you ask eventually.

riwoo nods. “it’s nice.”

simple. but you get what he means.

he leads you toward a quieter area, where a small walking path winds around a pond. as you follow the curve of the trail, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out.

“here.”

you blink as he hands you a small keychain. it’s nothing extravagant—just a tiny charm shaped like a game controller. but when you take a closer look, you recognize it.

“wait… this is from that arcade, isn’t it?” you ask, surprised.

he nods. “you mentioned liking the claw machines there last time we went. figured you should have one of the prizes.”

you stare at the keychain, turning it over in your palm. it’s such a small thing, but the fact that he remembered…

“you won this?” you ask, looking up.

riwoo just shrugs. “took a few tries.”

you huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “dude. you could’ve just bought one.”

he hums, glancing ahead. “not the same.”

and just like that, something shifts.

you’re not sure what, exactly, but there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. riwoo doesn’t make a big deal out of things, but that almost makes them feel more real, like he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble unless he actually meant it.

you slide the keychain into your pocket, feeling its small weight against your fingers.

“thanks,” you say, voice softer than before.

he just nods, like it’s nothing.

but the comfortable silence between you says otherwise.

as the two of you continue walking, conversation comes naturally. it’s not forced, not something either of you are trying too hard for. it just flows, an easy back-and-forth that feels like you’ve been doing this for years.

you talk about random things. music, places you want to visit, the weirdest things you’ve seen in convenience stores at 3am. riwoo’s humor is dry but sharp, slipping in casually between sentences, and you find yourself laughing more than you expected to.

at some point, you stop by a bench, sitting for a while just to enjoy the evening air.

you lean back, stretching your arms. “this is nice.”

riwoo hums in agreement, gaze fixed on the water.

and for a moment, that’s enough.

no pressure to fill the silence. no expectation to keep the conversation going. just existing, side by side.

you don’t realize how much time has passed until—

“there you are.”

you both turn at the voice, only to see taesan strolling toward you, hands in his hoodie pockets, looking way too pleased with himself.

riwoo exhales, slow and measured. “really?”

“what?” taesan says innocently, plopping down on the bench beside you. “just happened to be in the area.”

you snort. “why does it feel like you guys keep happening to be in the area?”

“coincidence,” taesan grins.

riwoo, unimpressed, stares at him. “go away.”

“nah,” taesan replies easily, leaning against the backrest. “this seems fun.”

you shake your head, amused, while riwoo just closes his eyes like he’s contemplating his life choices.

taesan tilts his head at you. “so, what were you guys talking about?”

“nothing,” riwoo mutters.

taesan gasps dramatically. “nothing? wow. sounds so fun.”

riwoo shoots him a deadpan look. “it was.”

you laugh, watching the exchange. taesan is obviously messing with riwoo, and riwoo, while exasperated, doesn’t actually seem mad, just annoyed in that quiet way he gets when things don’t go his way.

“well, since i’m here,” taesan says, stretching, “might as well walk you back.”

riwoo looks seconds away from strangling him.

you, completely oblivious to the underlying battle, just nod. “sure, why not.”

and with that, your quiet night out with riwoo comes to an abrupt, taesan-shaped end.

—

“you like 90s music?”

taesan’s voice comes through the phone casually, but there’s something in his tone that makes you feel like this is leading somewhere.

“yeah,” you answer, leaning back against your couch. “why?”

“got some tracks you might like,” he says smoothly. “wanna listen?”

you pause. “right now?”

“yep.”

“...is this your way of asking me to hang out?”

“maybe,” taesan replies, amused. “but hey, you did say yes, so.”

you shake your head but find yourself grinning. “where?”

“studio.”

he doesn’t give you much time to overthink it. within twenty minutes, you find yourself walking into a dimly lit practice room, the faint hum of a speaker already playing something in the background. taesan is sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, looking perfectly at ease.

he glances up when you enter, smirking. “didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“why? were you hoping i wouldn’t?” you tease, dropping into the chair across from him.

taesan chuckles. “nah. just means i must be more convincing than i thought.”

he leans over to the speaker, adjusting the volume before letting the song play in full. the familiar sound of a 90s r&b track filters through the room, smooth and rich. you nod along, already vibing with it.

“okay,” you admit. “good pick.”

taesan grins. “knew you’d like it.”

he doesn’t sit back down immediately. instead, he moves closer, leaning against the table between you, close enough that you can catch the faint scent of his cologne.

“this one’s good too,” he says, scrolling through his playlist before pressing play.

a new song starts, the kind with slow beats and lyrics that sound way too suggestive when paired with taesan’s current expression. he doesn’t say anything about it, just watches you with a knowing smile, like he’s waiting for you to notice.

you clear your throat. “you, uh—got a theme going on here?”

“maybe,” he muses, tilting his head. “what? too much for you?”

you scoff, crossing your arms. “please. you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

his grin widens. “oh? that a challenge?”

you don’t answer, but you don’t look away either. which is a mistake, because taesan takes that as an invitation to up his game.

he moves around the table and sits next to you, close enough that your knees almost touch.

“so,” he says, resting his chin on his palm, “what’s your type?”

you blink. “what?”

“your type,” he repeats, tone light. “y’know. romantically.”

you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”

“just curious.” he shrugs. “humor me.”

you sigh, pretending to think. “okay, fine. i guess… someone who’s funny. easy to talk to. good taste in music doesn’t hurt either.”

taesan hums. “interesting.”

you narrow your eyes. “what?”

he just grins. “nah. just sounds like you’re describing me.”

you knew he was leading up to something, but hearing him say it so bluntly still makes you pause.

he laughs at your expression, nudging your shoulder. “c’mon, that was a good one.”

“was it?” you mutter, shaking your head.

he leans back, stretching his arms above his head. “you’re cute when you get flustered, y’know.”

you freeze for half a second before scoffing. “i’m not flustered.”

“mmm,” taesan hums like he doesn’t believe you.

he switches to another song, one with a slower, lazier beat, and taps his fingers against his thigh to the rhythm.

“alright,” he says. “your turn. what’s my type?”

you raise a brow. “shouldn’t you know that?”

“sure,” he grins. “but i wanna hear your guess.”

you hesitate, eyeing him. “uh. someone confident?”

“mmhmm,” he nods, waiting.

“someone who can keep up with your flirting without getting flustered.”

he snickers. “so not you, then?”

you groan. “you’re insufferable.”

he laughs, tilting his head. “you love it.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t deny it.

by the time you check your phone, an hour has passed without you even realizing.

“damn,” you mutter. “didn’t think we’d be here this long.”

taesan smirks. “time flies when you’re having fun.”

before you can retort, the door swings open.

“whoa, cozy.”

you turn just in time to see woonhak standing in the doorway, looking way too smug.

taesan exhales through his nose. “...really?”

“what?” woonhak grins. “i was literally looking for you.”

“convenient timing,” taesan mutters.

woonhak ignores him, turning to you. “hey, you busy? ‘cause i have a way more fun idea.”

taesan tuts, shaking his head. “and you just had to interrupt now, huh?”

woonhak shrugs, looking completely unbothered. “what can i say? perfect timing.”

you laugh, glancing between them. whatever this is, it’s definitely not just a coincidence.

but you don’t think much of it. after all, your friends have always been chaotic.

right?

“you’re coming with me,” woonhak announces, grabbing your wrist before you can react.

you blink. “huh? where—”

“no time for questions,” he says, dragging you forward with a wide grin. “just trust me.”

you don’t get a chance to argue. one second, you’re standing outside the practice room after parting ways with taesan, and the next, you’re practically jogging to keep up with woonhak’s excited strides.

“seriously,” you huff, “what is this about?”

woonhak finally slows down when you reach the main hallway. he spins on his heel to face you, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“photo booth,” he declares.

you stare at him. “...photo booth?”

he nods. “yep. the one down the street.”

you raise a brow. “why?”

“because,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “i need cool pics, and you’re the only person fun enough to take them with.”

you huff out a laugh. “that’s a weird compliment, but okay.”

woonhak beams. “i am kind of a compliment expert.”

he tugs you toward the exit before you can overthink it. something about his energy makes it impossible to say no. his enthusiasm is genuine, infectious in a way that makes you want to go along with whatever ridiculous plan he’s cooked up.

so, despite the randomness of it all, you find yourself stepping into the tiny photo booth with him not even fifteen minutes later.

“okay, okay,” woonhak says, leaning closer as he scans the screen. “which filter? vintage? cartoon? ooh, or the one that makes us look like shiny porcelain dolls?”

you snort. “definitely not that one.”

“boo. no fun,” he teases, but he selects the vintage filter anyway.

the countdown begins.

“quick, first pose!”

without thinking, you throw up a peace sign. woonhak, of course, leans in dramatically, pointing at you like you’re the most interesting person in the world.

the camera flashes.

“next one, do something dumb,” he says.

you both make exaggerated, ridiculous faces. flash.

“now a cool one.”

he throws an arm around your shoulders and tilts his chin up, giving the camera his best model smolder. you just try to look less awkward. flash.

by the time the last picture is taken, you’re both grinning like idiots, slightly out of breath from how hard you’ve been laughing.

“these are perfect,” woonhak declares as the printed photos slide out from the machine.

you shake your head. “they’re ridiculous.”

“perfectly ridiculous,” he corrects, waving them around so the ink can dry.

you glance at the photos, smiling despite yourself. “okay, yeah. they’re kinda fun.”

woonhak gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. “was that amusement i just heard? from you?”

you roll your eyes, but he just laughs, nudging you playfully.

the two of you step out of the booth woonhak drags you around, not realizing how big the area woonhak took you to was. and that’s when you realize just how much time has passed.

“wait,” you frown, checking your phone. “we’ve been here for two hours?”

woonhak grins. “time flies when you’re having fun.”

“that’s what taesan said,” you mutter.

“ugh, don’t compare me to him.” woonhak pouts. “i’m way more fun.”

you chuckle. “alright, sure.”

he hums, pleased, then carefully tears the photo strip in half and hands you a piece.

“souvenir,” he says.

you take it, feeling oddly touched. “thanks.”

“duh,” he says, nudging your shoulder again.

just as you’re about to say something else, a voice calls out—

“yo, what are you guys up to?”

you turn to see sungho approaching, hands casually in his pockets but eyes flicking between you and woonhak with obvious curiosity.

woonhak tuts. “oh, great. here comes the fun police.”

sungho raises a brow. “fun police? dude, you kidnapped him.”

“for a great cause.”

sungho chuckles, then turns to you. “seriously though, you free? i was gonna grab something to eat—thought you might wanna come.”

woonhak groans dramatically. “unbelievable. you really couldn’t wait five more minutes?”

sungho just smirks. “nope.”

you blink between them, still not fully catching onto whatever silent competition is happening here.

but hey, free food.

“alright,” you say. “let’s go.”

woonhak throws his arms up. “betrayal!”

you laugh, already walking away with sungho. woonhak’s over-the-top whining fades into the background as you head toward your next (unknowingly competitive) hangout.

—

sungho doesn’t rush you.

he doesn’t drag you off like woonhak or flirt like taesan. he doesn’t plan an elaborate excuse to get you alone, nor does he try to impress you with anything grand. instead, he simply walks beside you, keeping an easy pace as you leave the area near the photo booth.

“you okay?” he asks after a while.

you glance at him, a little confused. “yeah? why wouldn’t i be?”

he shrugs. “just making sure. woonhak has a lot of energy.”

you chuckle at that. “yeah, he does.”

sungho hums in agreement. for a moment, there’s only the sound of your footsteps as you walk.

normally, silence like this would feel awkward, like you need to fill the space with words just to make sure the conversation doesn’t die. but with sungho, it doesn’t feel that way at all. his presence is steady, comfortable. there’s no pressure to keep talking, no expectation for you to entertain him.

it’s... nice.

“so,” he says eventually, “where do you wanna eat?”

you think for a second. “hmm. something simple, maybe? i’m not too picky.”

“same,” he nods. “there’s a good place around the corner. nothing fancy, but the food’s solid.”

“sounds good.”

sungho doesn’t lead the way. he walks with you. side by side.

when you get to the restaurant, he holds the door open for you without making a big deal out of it. he doesn’t comment on what you order, doesn’t try to one-up you or tease you like some of the others might. instead, he just listens.

you don’t even realize how much you’re talking at first. maybe it’s because he isn’t pushing for anything, but before long, you find yourself rambling, about random things, small frustrations, the little annoyances of your day. you talk about something funny that happened earlier, about how you got lost trying to find a meeting room, about how taesan’s music taste is stuck in the 90s.

sungho listens to it all. really listens.

he doesn’t just nod along absentmindedly or wait for his turn to speak. he responds thoughtfully, asks questions that show he’s paying attention. he laughs at the right moments, shakes his head when you tell him something dumb that happened.

and when you run out of things to say, he doesn’t fill the quiet with unnecessary words. he just lets it be.

you exhale, leaning back in your seat. “you’re easy to talk to.”

sungho smiles, small but genuine. “that’s a good thing, right?”

“yeah,” you admit. “it is.”

he rests his chin on his hand. “well, you’re easy to listen to.”

you huff out a laugh. “that supposed to be a compliment?”

“mhm.”

you shake your head, but your lips twitch.

the food arrives, and the two of you eat without any rush. conversation flows naturally, never forced, never awkward. the longer you sit with him, the more you realize how rare that is. how rare it is to just exist with someone like this, without feeling like you have to perform or keep up with them.

sungho doesn’t try to be anything more than himself. and because of that, you don’t feel like you have to be anything more than yourself either.

it’s... different. in a good way.

you’re still processing that when the door to the restaurant swings open and someone walks in.

“there you are.”

you blink up at the new arrival.

leehan.

he looks from you to sungho, then back again, raising an eyebrow like he’s caught something interesting.

sungho barely reacts, just pops a fry into his mouth. “what’s up?”

leehan’s gaze lingers on you. “just wondering where he disappeared to.”

you frown. “i didn’t disappear.”

he shrugs. “you kinda did.”

sungho smirks slightly. “jealous?”

leehan scoffs. “not at all.” then, he turns to you. “you done eating?”

you glance at your plate. you’re mostly finished. “uh... yeah, pretty much.”

“cool. come with me.”

you blink. “what? where?”

“just trust me,” he says.

sungho exhales through his nose, amused. “guess that’s my cue to let you go.”

you feel a little bad leaving him so soon, but leehan is already waiting.

“thanks for this,” you say to sungho. “seriously.”

he nods, something knowing in his expression. “anytime.”

and with that, leehan ushers you out, his interruption marking the start of whatever he has planned next.

—

leehan doesn’t say much when he leads you out of the restaurant.

you exhale, stretching your arms. “so where are we going?”

“somewhere quiet,” leehan says simply.

he doesn’t elaborate, but you don’t push for details. there’s something about the way he moves. calm, deliberate, that makes you trust him without question.

your legs are already tired from the long day, but you don’t complain. it’s been one thing after another lately, bouncing between schedules, helping with whatever needs to be done, keeping up with the members’ energy. the thought of somewhere quiet is actually kind of nice.

leehan seems to notice.

at some point, without a word, he reaches over and takes the bag from your shoulder, the one weighed down with equipment, heavier than it should be after carrying it around all day.

“huh?” you blink, startled. “you don’t have to—”

“just give it to me,” he says, not unkindly.

you hesitate for a second, but then you let him.

the relief in your muscles is instant. you hadn’t realized just how much strain the bag was putting on your shoulder until the weight was gone.

“thanks,” you mumble.

leehan doesn’t respond, just keeps walking like it’s nothing.

you fall into step with him, and soon enough, you recognize the route, the way to the dorms.

“wait, we’re going to your place?”

he nods.

“uh. am i even allowed?”

“you are now.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “guess i can’t argue with that.”

when you arrive, the dorm is surprisingly empty.

“everyone’s still out,” leehan explains as he sets your bag down near the door.

you glance around. “so, what now?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he walks over to a small tank near the window.

it takes you a second to register what you’re looking at. but then it clicks.

of course.

“checking on your fish?” you ask, amused.

leehan hums in confirmation.

you step closer, watching as he taps the glass lightly, eyes scanning over the water like he’s making sure everything is in perfect balance. everyone knows leehan likes fish. he’s known for it.

but you’ve never actually seen him with them before.

there’s a quiet fondness in the way he does it, gentle, careful.

“they look good,” you say.

“they are.”

“you always talk about them, but this is my first time actually seeing them.” you glance at him. “i get it now.”

he raises an eyebrow. “get what?”

you nod toward the tank. “why you like them so much. they’re… calming.”

he watches them for a second before nodding. “they are.”

you both stand there, just looking at them for a while. the fish move in slow, effortless patterns, gliding through the water without a care. it’s oddly soothing to watch.

and then—

“you should take better care of yourself.”

you blink. “what?”

leehan finally looks at you. “you don’t even notice when you’re exhausted, do you?”

his words catch you off guard. “i—” you pause, about to deny it, but... you can’t.

because he’s right.

you don’t notice. not really. you just keep going, keep working, keep up with everything, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. and no one’s ever really pointed it out before. not like this.

leehan doesn’t press you for a response. he just turns back to the fish tank, letting the statement hang in the air.

but something about it sticks with you.

you should take better care of yourself.

it’s such a simple thing to say, but coming from leehan, it carries weight. because he’s not the type to throw words around without meaning them.

you swallow. “i’ll try.”

he nods, like that’s enough. like he trusts that you will.

the moment lingers between you, quiet but full.

and then—

the door bursts open.

“we’re back!”

suddenly, the dorm is filled with voices (jaehyun, sungho, riwoo, taesan, woonhak) talking over each other as they pile in.

jaehyun stops mid-step. “wait. why is he here?”

“why wouldn’t he be?” leehan says evenly.

taesan raises an eyebrow. “hold on. how long have you two been alone?”

“does it matter?”

woonhak dramatically gasps. “you didn’t steal him away, did you?”

sungho shakes his head with a small smile. “figures, leehan would play the long game.”

riwoo just eyes you quietly, like he’s assessing the situation.

you blink at all of them. “uh. hi?”

the tension in the room is almost comical.

and suddenly, you get the distinct feeling that this whole situation, whatever this is, is far from over.

it starts small.

jaehyun practically shoves you into the best seat at the table when you all go out to eat.

"here, sit here. good view, best lighting," he says, pulling out the chair with too much enthusiasm, nearly knocking it over in the process.

before you can even thank him, riwoo silently slides a drink in front of you.

"your favorite," he says, as if he had it ready before you even sat down.

"oh—thanks?" you blink, but before you can take a sip, taesan leans in with a smirk.

"wait, wait," he says, plucking the glass from your hand. "let me taste-test it first." he takes an exaggerated sip, licking his lips. "yeah, that's safe for you."

"what—" you stare at him, baffled, but then woonhak slides in from nowhere.

"whoa, whoa, hold up," he grins. "you're making him drink already? shouldn't we feed him first?" and just like that, he's piling food onto your plate like an overly doting grandma.

"guys," you laugh, half overwhelmed, half amused. "you don’t have to—"

"eat," sungho says simply, nodding toward the plate. "we're not letting you work on an empty stomach."

you blink at him, confused, but then leehan casually pushes a napkin toward you.

"they're messy," he says, nodding toward the rest of them.

"i'm—what is happening?" you finally ask, looking around the table.

no one answers.

they all just eye each other.

silently.

like some sort of standoff.

…okay, weird.

but whatever, you’re hungry. so you just shake your head and start eating, blissfully unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

at some point, you stop trying to keep up with whatever this is and just start laughing.

"okay," you say, shaking your head. "i don’t know what’s going on, but you guys are acting so weird tonight."

they all freeze.

"weird? what do you mean weird?" jaehyun asks, far too quickly.

"we're not weird," woonhak protests.

"you're the weird one," taesan adds, for no reason.

sungho sighs.

leehan just crosses his arms.

you look at all of them. the tension. the silent glares. the way they're obviously trying to one-up each other at every turn.

…

nah.

there’s no way.

"you know what?" you grin. "instead of competing or whatever this is—why don’t we just enjoy the night together?"

they all pause.

"together?" jaehyun repeats.

"as in… no competition?" riwoo asks, skeptical.

you raise an eyebrow. "was there a competition?"

silence.

taesan clears his throat. "no. obviously not."

"yeah, no competition," woonhak says way too fast.

"never," jaehyun insists.

sungho sighs again.

leehan shakes his head.

you just smile.

whatever this is, you’re not gonna overthink it.

because right now, you're just here to have fun.

with all of them.

end of story.

…

(or at least, that’s what you think.)

—

tysm for reading :>

bnd taglist : @bxnedo

perm taglist : @s0shroe @minoouz @the0p @mon2sunjinsuver

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corroded-hellfire · 8 months ago

Note

Even though it's wayyy off into the future - how about Eliza getting her first period and Y/N isn't there so "poor" Eddie has to deal with it

(I got my first period very early, like even though I knew what it was it was a big shock, and I was like 'I don't want this - mom, make it go away!', so I was thinking something like that)

As soon as I saw your request, the wheels in my brain started turning. This would not leave me alone until I got it all out lol. I hope you enjoy!

Words: 3k

Warnings: talk of periods, blood

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Dad?”

Eliza creeps out of the hotel bathroom, eyes on the dark gray carpeting as she approaches the queen-sized bed Eddie is lounging on. Without even looking up at her, Eddie can tell something is wrong. Not only is her voice shaky, but she called him “Dad” when, even at twelve-years-old, she still usually calls him “Daddy.”

“What’s up?” Eddie lifts his head and watches his preteen daughter move past his bed and sit on the edge of her own.

“Can I have your phone?” Eliza asks.

She still doesn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look down at her pink polka-dot socks. Her fingers fidget on the white comforter, chipped blush-colored nail polish scratching against the side of her jeans.

“What for?”

Eddie is more than happy to let her use it, but he wants to get to the bottom of what’s wrong first.

Instead of answering right away, the girl’s cheeks darken, and she gently shakes her head from side to side.

“To call Mom.”

“Of course,” he says, lifting his hips off the bed so he can pull his phone out of his pocket. “Is everything okay?”

Eliza nods, but her wobbling chin and eyes pooling with tears make a liar out of the motion.

“Eliza…”

Eddie moves to sit on the edge of his bed, his knees almost bumping into hers in the space between the two beds.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I-I wanna talk to Mom,” Eliza says, quickly wiping away a tear that falls down her cheek.

“Okay.” Eddie feels his heart seizing up in his chest. He understands Eliza wanting her mom, but the fact that she’s not telling him what’s wrong is causing panic signals to fire off in his brain. “Are you alright?”

She sniffles, still not meeting his eye, and holds her hand out for the phone.

As reluctant as he is to give it to her without getting any answers in return, he knows you’ll take care of whatever is going on. There’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind that you’re the best mother his children could ever have. So, he lays the phone in Eliza’s open palm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles as she scoots up towards her pillows, perching in the opposite corner of her bed—as far from Eddie as she can be, he notices.

Her dad watches as Eliza wipes under her nose with one hand while she pulls up your contact information. With another sniffle, your daughter holds the phone up to her ear and pulls her knees up against her chest. As she waits for you to answer, she brings her thumb up to her mouth and begins to clink her nail against her two front teeth.

“Hello?”

Your voice simultaneously calms her, but also makes the tears that have been threatening to fall finally spill.

“Hi, M-Mom.”

“Eliza? Honey, what’s wrong?” Like Eddie, you also know the ins and outs of your daughter’s tells.

“I, um…” Eliza’s eyes dart over to her father, but quickly fall back to her free hand resting against her knee. It doesn’t escape Eddie’s notice that this was the first time she even glanced in his direction since she came out of the bathroom. “When, I, uh…”

Eddie decides to give his girls some privacy. He stands up from the bed and steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Ringed fingers drum against the cool porcelain tile. Eddie doesn’t have to go, so he picks up his toothbrush and figures he might as well take care of his dental hygiene while he’s in here.

With Eddie in the bathroom, Eliza feels a little freer to speak—even if she knows he can probably still hear from in there.

“Mom, there was blood in my underwear,” Eliza says.

“Oh!” You definitely weren’t expecting that, as much as you probably should have been since she’s at this age. “Well, you know what that is, right sweetie? We talked about it.”

“N-No, I know,” Eliza says. “I don’t want it though. I want it to go away.”

You sigh, wishing you could reach through the phone and hug your daughter.

“Liza, you know that’s not going to happen.”

“Mommy, make it go away,” she whines, making your heart crack.

“Everything is going to be just fine, honey. I’m sorry I’m not there, though,” you say. “Did you tell Daddy?”

“No,” Eliza mumbles, picking at the hem of her jeans. “Don’t wanna.”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s embarrassing. But he’s your dad. You’re in just as good hands with him as you are with me.”

“Not with this,” Eliza scoffs.

“Yes, even with this,” you assure her. “Do you want me to talk to him? Tell him what he needs to buy you?”

“Yeah,” Eliza says. “I don’t think I’ll remember anyway.”

“I’ll also text it to him,” you say. “It’s just going to be some pads, okay? They’re pretty easy but if you want to FaceTime later, I can help you. Have you seen Luke yet?”

“No,” Eliza says. “We just got to the hotel, and I went to the bathroom and…saw.”

“Okay. Where’s Daddy?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Going? Or did you just banish him there?”

Eliza giggles softly and you’re able to relax a little.

“Neither, I don’t think.”

“Go knock and hand him the phone, then.”

Eliza pushes herself off the bed, doing a double take to make sure she didn’t leave any red spots behind on the white comforter, and heads over to the bathroom door.

“Daddy?” She knocks three times.

Eddie opens the door and spits out the water he used to rinse his mouth into the sink.

“What’s up?”

“Here.” She holds the phone out towards him.

He eyes Eliza carefully as he takes it, trying to gauge if she’s feeling better or not.

“Hello?” Eddie asks.

“Hi,” you say. Already your voice has him feeling calmer. It’s just the effect you have on him.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Eliza scurries away as her dad asks that question. She’d rather not look at him while you deliver the news.

“Eliza got her first period,” you say with a sigh.

“Oh.” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. He should have been expecting this at some point, right? Yet he feels entirely blindsided by hearing that his little girl has started turning into a woman.

“You both really wish I was there, don’t you?” you ask with a chuckle.

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Yes, very much so.”

“Well, you need to be there for her now. She’s already feeling embarrassed and wishes this wasn’t happening.”

“I can do that,” Eddie says, sounding less than confident.

“Eddie.”

“I can!”

“Good. When are you guys seeing Luke?” you ask.

“We’re having dinner with him,” your husband tells you. “Going to pick him up from his apartment in a little while.”

“Okay. She’s going to need pads before you go. I’ll text you what kind you should get. And then ones for bedtime, too.”

“There are different ones for bed?” Eddie asks. “What, do they have a clock on them or something?”

“Yes, they do make ones for bed,” you say with an amused chuckle. “But no, there’s no clock. It’s because she’ll be laying down for so long, the nighttime ones are longer to cover more underwear.”

“Oh.” Eddie clears his throat. “That makes sense.”

“God, you’re funny,” you say with a full out laugh. “Eds, why does this all seem so new to you? We’ve been together over fifteen years now and I still get mine like clockwork. And before that, I know Brittany had one or our two favorite knuckleheads wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve bought that kind of stuff for both of you, but I never paid attention. I didn’t need to!”

“Now you do, Pops. This is all new and scary for Eliza.”

“Yeah, me too,” Eddie adds.

“You’ll be fine. She will too, but you have to help make sure of it. She’s still your little Liza.”

“Always,” Eddie says.

“Good. Now go to the store. I told her I’d FaceTime and help her if she needs it, but I think she’s got it. She and I have had this talk before.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Uh, anything else?”

“Just be normal about it. As normal as you can be. Oh! And get her some Midol. And KitKats. Chocolate might be her lifesaver.”

“Her favorite, got it.”

“I’ll text you the mini list. Does she want to talk to me again?” you ask.

“Lize?” Eddie calls. When she looks up at him, he holds out the phone. “Anything else for Mom?”

She nods and walks over to take the phone.

“Hi,” she says, voice soft and small.

“Hi, sweet pea. You’re okay. I’m going to text Daddy what to buy and you can call me whenever you want to.”

“Okay,” Eliza responds, still quiet.

“I love you,” you say.

“I love you, too.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Eliza repeats.

“Bye, baby.”

“Bye.”

Eliza hands the phone back to Eddie, looking at his stomach instead of his face. Eddie pockets the phone and sighs. He wraps his arm around Eliza’s shoulders and pats her arm.

“It’s okay, kid,” he says reassuringly. “I’ve got ya.”

Eliza nods and stays quiet for a moment before she buries her face in her father’s chest. Her arms cling to him as she cries and sniffles against his dark blue Tennessee tourist t-shirt he bought at the rest stop right over the border.

Eddie frowns, his heart hurting at seeing his little girl so confused and upset. Puberty was a bitch for him—he can’t imagine what it must be like for a girl. He presses a few kisses against her dark curls that are tucked up in a ponytail.

“Come on,” Eddie mumbles against her hair. “Mom said to buy you some KitKats, but I think we should clear out the whole stock of chocolate.”

Eliza pulls back and rubs her right eye with her fist as she looks up at her dad. He breathes a sigh of relief that she’ll finally meet his eye.

“Can we get cookies t-too?” she asks.

“Cookies too,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle.

The trip to the store wasn’t nearly as bad as either Munson thought it was going to be. Eddie had your list, the two of them quickly spotted the needed feminine supplies, then they booked it over to the candy and cookies.

Eddie puts the bags in the backseat and the two of them get back in the car.

“Alright,” Eddie says as he starts the engine. “Put your brother’s address in my GPS, please.”

Eliza scoffs a laugh as she grabs her dad’s phone to do as he said.

“What would you do without me being your tech support?” she asks.

“Call one of your siblings,” Eddie says, backing the car out of the parking space.

“If you could figure out how to dial them,” Eliza teases as she snaps her father’s phone back into the car mount so he can see the directions.

“Such a smart ass,” Eddie muses.

“Thanks!” Eliza beams. “I learned it from my father.”

“Well, he sounds like a hilarious and devastatingly handsome man,” Eddie says.

“Meh.” Eliza shrugs and Eddie reaches over to dig his fingers in right above Eliza’s knee: her most ticklish spot. She squeals and her father eventually relents when he has to turn right down a road.

The closer they get to Luke’s college campus, the more orange they see. Knoxville is sure brimming with school spirit.

Luke’s apartment complex isn’t far from campus, so it’s easy to find. Eliza looks out at the red brick building and is surprised to find it just as clean as when they dropped Luke off here last year. Knowing her older brother, she assumed there would be cheeseburger wrappers littered around or an assortment of ridiculously posed lawn gnomes.

“Do you want to call Mom before we get him?” Eddie asks.

She shakes her head. Eliza was able to get herself situated with a pad in the store’s bathroom. When you’d texted to see how things were going, Eddie had replied with a thumbs up emoji—once he found it.

As much as Eliza wishes you were with her for her first period and the whirlwind of emotions that come with it, she likes having this small road trip time with just her dad. It was a little over five hours to drive from Hawkins, Indiana to Knoxville, Tennessee, but it was fun. Anything Eddie and Eliza did together was fun. Of course she misses you and everyone else back home, but this little trip is nice.

“All right,” Eddie says. “Let’s go get the troublemaker.”

“Too late,” Eliza says. “Speak of the devil…”

Eddie looks up and sees Luke jogging out of his apartment building, big grin on his face as he sees his family. He walks over to the passenger side of the car and Eliza hitches her thumb over her shoulder to tell her older brother that he’s sitting in the back seat. No way was she giving up front seat privileges when she so rarely got them.

Luke pulls open the back door and slides into the car.

“Mi familia!” Luke cries. He leans over the headrest in front of him to place a big smacking kiss on the top of Eliza’s head before leaning over toward Eddie’s side and wrapping his arms around his father as tightly as he can at this angle.

“You’re so dramatic,” Eliza complains with a chuckle.

“Oh, come on,” Luke says as he plops down into his seat. “The three most dramatic Munsons are all in this car right now.”

“And, shockingly,” Eddie says as he backs out of the parking space, “I get the bronze medal.”

“Well, you always want your children to do better than you, right Dad?” Luke shifts and his foot kicks the plastic bag containing Eliza’s period needs and snacks. The top corner of a bag of cookies is sticking out and Luke’s focus is locked. “Ooh, did you buy me snacks?”

He stretches to snag the bag handle and plops it down on the seat next to him.

“No!” Eliza cries, trying to turn around in her seat and snatch the bag away before he notices what’s inside. But she’s too late.

Luke lifts out a package of sanitary pads and his eyes widen as he looks from the frilly lilac design to his sister staring back at him with a tomato red face. Slowly, as if she were attempting to go unnoticed, Eliza spins back around to face forward in her seat.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just waits for his son to speak. He doesn’t want to jump down Luke’s throat for making fun of his little sister if the crime hasn’t even been committed yet. Eddie’s expecting anything from “gross, periods” to “ew, you have cooties now!” But he definitely wasn’t expecting…

“My little girl is growing up!”

Eliza drops her head forward into her hands and Eddie bites down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“Alright, Luke,” Eddie says, “don’t traumatize your sister.”

“I’m not!” Luke protests. “I’m just saying I can’t believe she’s hitting puberty!”

“Luke, I’m going to stab you,” Eliza grits out between her teeth.

“Oh, there are the hormones!” Luke says.

“Okay, guys,” Eddie interjects. “Enough.”

“Does the family know yet?” Luke asks, leaning forward to stick his head between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. “Did I miss a text in the family group chat?”

“No,” Eliza seethes.

“We have to tell Ryan! Oh, wait, oh my God. We have to tell Grandpa that his little girl is becoming a woman!”

The car rolls up to a red light and Eliza immediately unbuckles her seatbelt.

“That’s it!”

She leaps into the back seat, landing right on top of her brother. Luke laughs as she tries to pin him down, her twelve-year-old frame not as strong as his twenty-two-year-old one. But she will never give up. This is the same girl who at less than a year old learned how to throw her entire body weight onto her big brothers and knock the wind out of them.

“Is this any way to treat your brother that you haven’t seen in months?” Luke asks as Eliza wrestles for control of his arms.

“When that brother is you? Yes.”

“Aww, Dad needs to get you a phone,” Luke says as he finally puts in the effort and is able to wrangle Eliza into a hold where he can squeeze her in an approximation of a hug. “That way I can talk to you more.”

“Buckle up back there,” is all Eddie says as the light turns green.

There’s the snapping of a seatbelt being locked, rummaging through the plastic bag, then the noise from the backseat dissipates.

“You better not steal my cookies,” Eddie hears Eliza mumble to her brother.

“You let me have one and I’ll give you a half-full tube of Pringles from my apartment.”

“What flavor?”

Eddie smiles to himself as he eyes the restaurants that pass by on the main road. He’s looking for a good one to take his son and daughter to, but he’s also enjoying hearing the two of them be their usual selves with one another. It’s been too long since they’ve lived under the same roof, Eddie feels. Then again, he feels that any time any of his kids aren’t under his roof is too long. They’re still his babies, it doesn’t matter how old they are.

“Cheddar and sour cream,” Luke answers his sister.

There’s a beat of silence as Eliza thinks it over.

“Okay. Deal.”

Eddie silently chuckles to himself. Luke may be a college student now, and Eliza might be becoming a woman, but they’re still the rugrats that Eddie’s known and loved since the days they were born.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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crackedpumpkin · 2 years ago

Text

ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

Warnings: Mild spoilers for Across The Spiderverse, one (1) curse word, angst, unrequited love.

word count: 1, 545

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.

“Right,” You snort, closing the comic book in your hands and placing it back into the pile on Miles’s bed. He glances up from the comic he’s reading, raising a brow at your sceptical expression.

“What?” He hums in amusement, casually grabbing a candy bar from his pocket and tossing it to you. It almost slips from your fingers, but you manage to catch it just in time with a playful eye roll.

“What’s so bad about Gwen Stacy ending up with Spiderman, anyway?”

“It’s just,” you hesitate. Would he think it’s stupid? “It’s unrealistic. I mean, it’s nice that Spiderman has a predestined love, but it doesn’t mean that it has to go by the book, y’know? It’s his life. Maybe there’s a really rude and narcissistic Gwen out there in another universe.”

“W-well, what if there isn’t? I’m pretty sure that there are good Gwens out there.” You look at him curiously, wondering what’s got him so defensive.

“What’s got your undies in a twist?” You chuckle at his earlier words, the tautness in his voice a surprise. Leaning back against the wall next to his bed, you kick your feet up to rest next to his arm, watching him frown and shove you off playfully.

“It’s nothing.” He tries to laugh it off, but the hint of nervousness in his eyes suggests otherwise. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him rub the back of his neck as beads of sweat form on his hand.

He’s lying. Why?

“Okay,” You choose to say instead, letting him be as you turn away. Your heartstrings tug slightly at the wistful look in his eyes when he stares at the front cover of the comic you were reading earlier, the illustration of Gwen Stacy clear as day.

You know he’s hiding something from you, something big. Ever since last month, he’d been cancelling hangouts and study sessions, and he’s always coming up with new excuses to avoid hanging out with you. During the few times you get to meet him, Miles always has a hint of nostalgia in his words, a glint of longing in his eyes as if he’d rather be with other people.

It hurts.

And it hurts even more when you planned to confess to him last week on the rooftop, only for him to show up hours late. He called you in a panic, apologies spilling past his lips before you promised you weren’t mad.

On the other end of the phone, however, you throw away the letter you’d so painstakingly written for him, just for that day. All the words prepared were useless, fading into the corner of your mind when you heard his voice on the phone.

“It’s fine,” You promised him countless times, hearing nothing but hesitance in his words when he checked to make sure it really was fine. Since then, you decided to squash down your confession, constantly procrastinating the day you tell him how you really feel.

“What about tomorrow’s bio test? You studied?” You ask, turning your head to see him freeze at the mention of the test he most definitely hasn’t studied for. He smiles sheepishly, silently pleading for you to share your notes with him.

“You and me against the world, right?” He grins, holding out his hand for a fist bump as he sits on his bed from his lazy position.

“Right,” You chuckle, grabbing the binder and notebook from your bag and handing it to him. You watch him flip through the pages fondly, eyes tracing the outline of his face and your gaze lingering on his lips.

You and him against the world.

It's always been you two for as long as you can remember. From the day you met in kindergarten to now, even as he stands in front of you in his Spiderman suit.

You let out a disbelieving laugh, sitting down on your bed. Shocked doesn't even begin to describe how you're feeling right now. You come home from school and decide to drop by Miles’s apartment, waiting in his room with your feet propped onto his desk, only to see motherfucking Spiderman crawl into the room and pull off his mask to reveal your childhood friend (and the boy you’re in love with).

Miles had been keeping such a huge secret from you this whole time. You're ready to punch him - to scold him even, for not telling you earlier. He’s your best friend, but apparently, he doesn't feel the same way if he’s been hiding this from you. Aren’t you trustworthy enough?

Aren’t you good enough?

His eyes are wide and filled with pure fear, hands trembling as he hugs himself, bracing his emotions for when you finally get mad. Your breaths are shaky, eyes flitting between him and the mask he holds in his hands. Flickers of anger begin to sink in, the claws of self-doubt sinking into your chest.

But a moment of clarity hits you. Miles didn't need a reaction right now. He needs you. He needs his best friend.

"Okay. Okay," You repeat through a slow exhale, looking up at him with a nod of acceptance. You simply gesture for him to sit down next to you. He does so without a word, automatically leaning his head on your shoulder like he always does when he's nervous and scared.

"You're not mad?" He asks softly. You shake your head, bringing his hand up to plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, ignoring the slight flutter in your chest as your lips graze against the skin.

To him, the action meant little, a comforting gesture used between you both since you were kids.

But to you, it means everything else. You try to push down the way your heart speeds up when his breaths brush against the exposed skin of your shoulders, hoping he won’t look up and see your gaze filled with pure love and concern for him.

Instead, you stare straight ahead at the window that overlooks the next few apartment buildings. The sunset is beautiful, auburn orange bathing the graffiti-covered concrete in a warm glow that has you wishing this isn’t the situation you’re in now. He tucks his head under yours, and your cheek presses against his hair, watching the sunset together.

"I'm not mad," You promise in a soft sigh, feeling him finally relax under you. He mumbles out thanks, and you merely grin, pressing another casual peck on his hand, the both of you falling silent after.

And for once in the five years that you've grown to love him more than he'd ever know, this time, you're not lying.

— — — — —

It's the day of the celebration, a joyous occasion meant to act as a hallmark for Mr Morales’s promotion.

But Miles is nowhere to be found. After returning from god knows where he disappeared, he returns with a girl.

Gwanda is her name. You stare at the blonde hair, the strawberry-coloured tips catching your eyes. The colour looks pretty on her. Her nervous disposition only makes you slightly suspicious, watching her leave from a short distance away after Mrs Morales approaches them.

But judging from the look in Miles's eyes after his mom talks to him, you know.

The way he looks at her is different. He's never had such fondness in his gaze with you, much less watching you walk away with such regret. So you walk to him and hand him your drink which he takes a sip from, and pat his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

"Go."

"You sure?"

"I'll be fine here. Besides, I’m sure I can handle a few hours of distracting your dad." You chuckle with a roll of your eyes, pushing down the pained pang in your heart at his bright smile. Every fibre of your being screams at you to grab onto his arm, to never let go. They scream at you to part your lips and let the words festering in your heart finally spill out.

But even as your eyes linger on him with a hollow grin, he doesn’t notice.

And that’s the difference.

"Thanks. Hey, you and me against the world, right?" Miles grins, placing a soft peck on your forehead. You bat him away with a faint smile, struggling to keep the tears from forming in your eyes. If he didn’t leave in the next ten seconds, you’re not sure you can no longer hold back your choked hiccups.

"Just come back to me, okay?"

He nods, a silent promise lingering in the air between you both. To him, it's a promise of return, to come back safe.

To you, it's a promise filled with desperation, wanting nothing more than for your Miles to come back to you. For your Miles to see you in the same light he views Gwanda in. To see you the way he sees her.

Maybe he was right all along. Maybe in every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.

You watch him leave with an excited grin on his lips, taking a sip from your cup and wishing that the fizzy liquid could drown your sorrows instead.

And in every other universe, you wish it were you.

#across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse #miles morales angst #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n

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austinbutlerslovers · 23 days ago

Text

Good Girl Gone Bad

Label Mature 18+

Summary Away from home settling in a new country to start college, you find solace in a handsome stranger. The connection is instant, a bond forming faster than you ever imagined, but just when everything feels safe he pulls you into a situation far more complicated than it first seemed, and suddenly, nothing about your new life is simple anymore.

Based on the intro to the film Grease. A new girl moves to America from Sydney to start school. She meets a biker boy over summer and they fall for each other, only for her to feel confused when he pretends it didn’t happen.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 New girl in a new town • innocent • naive • shy• soft spoken• lacking boundaries • trusting • forming a crush • lured • coercion •dub con• oral on fem • fingering • size kink • overstimulation • P in V •used for gratification • multiple orgasms • protection • after care

🔗 Masterlist

📖 Proof reader @aust-een 🎉 Thank you for voting! That was so fast!

Good Girl Gone Bad

The Los Angeles sun blazes over Venice Beach, casting golden light across the sand. You spread your towel near the water’s edge, where the waves crash in a steady rhythm, drowning out the chatter of locals and the hum of skateboard wheels on the boardwalk.

You’re a long way from Sydney Australia on your first trip to America, where you’ll be staying all summer in a pastel-yellow vacation rental before you begin college in California for fall.

Your navy bikini feels daring to wear out as shy and soft-spoken as you are, but the sun demands it. You lie on your back, flipping through a worn copy of The Age of Innocence, your hair fanning out over the towel, skin tingling as the heat seeps in.

After reading a chapter you roll on your stomach to tan evenly, your hair spilling over one shoulder as you flip another page. The curve of your back arches gently, feeling the sheen of your skin kissed by the sun, as you settle.

You don’t even notice him at first, the tall biker returning to his black Harley parked near the bike path.

As you glance up at him, his leather jacket is slung over one shoulder, a white t-shirt clinging to his frame. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but you can still feel his gaze, steady and casual, like you’re the only thing worth watching on the beach.

You brush it off, so far Venice Beach teems with characters, and he’s probably just people-watching.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and dive back into your book feeling your body warm from the last strong rays of sun, and as the light softens to a peachy glow across the sand, you decide to pack up.

Standing up you pull on your sundress, and collect your towel, tucking it folded under your arm. As you walk from the sand to the palm-lined bike path, you dig in your bag grabbing your phone for an Uber before you hear someone approaching you.

“Hey, hold up.” The voice is low, smooth, with a drawl that doesn’t quite fit LA.

You turn, and there he stands, the biker. Up close, he towers over you, lean and solid, his sandy brown hair tousled from the wind. Without his sunglasses, his eyes are piercing and vividly blue, like the Pacific Ocean as they lock on yours.

Your breath catches as you recognize his face. He’s Austin Butler, the actor. You’ve seen him on screen, but in person, he’s sharper, more real, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he says, placing his hands in his pockets, head tilting slightly. “Just figured I’d say hi before you disappeared.”

You clutch your towel tighter, caught in his stunning blue eyes that seem to see right through you, your breath hitching as a flush creeps up your neck.

“Oh, um… hi,” you manage, your voice barely functioning as your gaze traces his striking features, and the way his smirk softens as he looks at you makes your knees weak.

He speaks smoothly, his tone warm and reassuring. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

You shake your head smiling as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “No, I’m not I’m from Sydney, Australia.”

His grin shifts into something genuine as his eyes light up with recognition. “No way, I lived there a few years back, Bondi Beach, the coffee shops on Oxford Street, the way the harbor sparkles at night… some of the most transformative years of my life.” He admits casually, his gaze drifting slowly over you as his voice drops just a little. “You’ve got that Sydney glow, you know. Hard to miss.”

Your grin deepens your face warming with a blush as you glance down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands. “Thank you…,” you say bashfully, your voice barely above the hush of the waves behind you.

“I’m Austin, by the way.” He says extending a hand, and as you take it in yours, his grip is warm and firm as you introduce yourself.

“How about I show you around. You can’t leave Cali without knowing the good spots.” He offers.

You blink up at him, surprised by his kindness. “I… I don’t know. I was just calling an Uber to head back—”

“Come with me.” He smiles, equal parts charm and mischief. “I’ll treat you to something American.”

A laugh escapes you, surprising yourself, and his smirk widens. “Okay,” you say, barely believing it. “But just for a little while.”

He gestures you to his Harley, and once there, he opens the seat, handing you a helmet. He slips his on at the same time as you, tilting his head with a grin. “First time on a bike?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

“Yeah,” you admit with a shy nod, fumbling with the strap. He steps closer, adjusting it so the helmet fits just right, his fingers brushing your chin as he chuckles softly. “You’ll love it,” he says confidently.

You climb on behind him as you hesitate, your hands hovering before lightly settling around his waist.

“Hold on tight,” he says, tilting his head to glance back at you through his helmet visor, and as you press against him, fully wrapping your arms around his waist, you bite back a smile holding him close.

The bike roars to life, and you peel away from the lot, the wind whipping through your hair as Venice blurs past, neon signs flickering to life, palm trees swaying, andthe endless stretch of ocean glinting in the dusk.

Instead of heading into town, he takes you down the coastal highway before slowing in a hillside residential area. He stops in front of a large sleek two-story beach house with glass walls and a wraparound deck.

Your stomach twists with nerves as you both remove your helmets, having just met him and now heading into a house together, but as he pulls his key from the bike’s ignition, he flashes you a warm disarming smile, you find yourself following him in without hesitation.

Inside, the place smells of fresh cedar and leather, all modern lines and open space. A vintage acoustic guitar leans against one wall, a stack of scripts sits on the living room table.

He leads you to the kitchen, all stainless steel, with wide windows, showcasing an ocean view stretching out like a painting.

“You hungry?” he asks, glancing over with a half-smile. “Yeah,” you say, your voice soft. “Come help me cook,” he says, and you smile, nerves easing a little.

“You’ll be my assistant,” he says, handing you a knife with a playful wink. “Let’s make you an American classic.”

You watch as he pulls ingredients from the fridge, ground beef, buns lettuce and tomatoes. He moves with easy confidence, his blue eyes flicking to yours as he speaks. “So what brings a Sydney girl to Venice?” He says as he rolls you a tomato.

You begin slicing into it as he heats a skillet. “I’ve never been to America before, just wanted to get a feel for it before starting college in the fall.” you admit.

“Smart move,” he says, watching you with a steady gaze. “What are you majoring in?”

You pause, knife hovering over the cutting board. “Well..I’ll be majoring in theater because..I want to be an actress.”

His eyebrows lift, a slow smile spreading across his face. “An actress?“ he says with enthusiasm. “That’s my entire world.”

He flips the burger patty, the sizzle filling the air. “You’ve got the look, those beautiful , honest eyes. Casting directors are gonna eat that up.”

Your cheeks flush, as you try to focus on cutting the tomato evenly, “You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it,” he says, his voice softer. “You’ve got something real, I can feel it.”

Your gaze keeps drifting over to him as he works. His handsome face, his sharp jawline, his tousled sandy brown hair framing his features just right.

He’s captivating and as you watch the way he moves with ease and confidence to match, you get it, you understand why he’s famous. There’s a magnetism to him that’s mesmerizing, like every motion is a scene he’s mastered

You work together, assembling the buns with juicy patties, stacking them with ripe tomatoes and crisp lettuce, then you sit at the dining room table together, eating the burgers, messy, delicious, and perfect.

The sun sinks below the horizon, leaving a trail of purple and gold as he leans back in his chair, his blue eyes glinting in the twilight as he studies you. “So, as an actress? What kind of roles would you be pursuing?”

You take a sip of water, gathering your courage. “I want to play someone… brave. Someone who changes things. I’ve always been quiet, you know? Shy. Acting feels like a way to be more.”

He nods, his expression softening, a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “You’re braver than you think coming out here solo.”

You smile, small but genuine. “Maybe you’re right. It is getting late, I should definitely be back in my Airbnb by now.” you admit.

He stands up, a spark in his grin, “Let me show you one more thing,” he says extending his hand, and you take it without hesitation.

You let him lead you up the stairs to the second floor, then the third, where he pushes open a door to a reveal a rooftop deck.

It’s immaculate with a plush daybed, a fire pit, a basket of blankets, a barbecue, a bar, a mini fridge. “Wow,” you breathe, seeing the panoramic view stretching from the coast to the city.

You place your hands on the railing, letting the wind kiss your skin as you stare out at the vibrant glow of the sunset. “It’s so pretty,” you say smiling, and he joins you, resting his forearms on the railing as he watches you take it in.

“If you’re really serious about becoming an actress, I can get you to the right people,” he says, his voice low and steady, cutting through the salty breeze.

Then it hits you, he’s Austin Butler. He knows all the higher ups in Hollywood, and your entire life could change just from this moment, like a direct line to your future clicking into place.

You pull off the railing, meeting his gaze, the weight of his offer heavy in your eyes. “I’d like that very much,” you say, your breath quickening.

He rises, stepping closer, his smile warm as he faces you, his blue eyes filled with admiration. He looks over your features, tracing the curve of your jaw, the flush in your cheeks, the way your hair catches the last light.

“Hollywood’s a different town,” he says, his voice low and infectious. “It doesn’t always work out for most people, it’s really not what you know, it’s who you know.” He admits, and as the moment lingers, your smile mirrors his own as the sunset fades to a soft purple haze, and then he leans in and kisses you.

Your breath catches, lips parting in shock as his mouth moves over yours, steady and warm, his hands sliding up your arms, drawing you in effortlessly before you even think of pulling back.

His hands glide smoothly down your back, thumbs tracing up your hips, until your thoughts dissolve into a haze.

He kisses you in a rhythm until your lost in it, his tongue slipping past your lips, smooth and sure, tracing against yours with a slow, teasing stroke that makes your stomach flip.

Your hands grip his waist, fingers digging in as your pulse hammers, a dizzy rush flooding your senses until you’re unsteady in his hold completely overtaken by him.

You never expected this, you don’t even know what this is, and as he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, breaths mingling heavily, you’re overwhelmed with a rush of arousal you’ve never felt before, wanting immediately to give in, yet desperately needing to hold back.

He guides you down onto the large daybed with ease, your chest rising and falling quickly as he lowers himself, kissing down your body, your words catching in your throat as he tugs your bikini down your hips, your eyes widening in disbelief.

You should stop him, you should do something, but as he spreads your legs and his mouth settles on you, it’s already too late.

You pant heavily as he works his mouth and tongue on you, torn between wanting him to stop and surrendering to him completely.

Your heartbeat thunders, thoughts spiraling, you’ve made yourself so easy, what does he think of you now? But as you glance down at him, his eyes are closed in bliss, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, his beautiful mouth moving over you with care. He’s focused entirely on savoring you, and your body softens, the tension melting as you relax into his skill.

Your head falls back as his tongue flicks just right, and your hips twitch as he splays his palm gently on your stomach, calming you as you give in.

Sparks explode behind your eyes, small whimpers escaping your lips as arousal floods through you, and the pleasure rises higher and faster until your legs press against his head. His hands caress up your hips and down your thighs steadying you as you shudder, moaning in the air, hips rocking against his mouth as you start to come.

Pleasure and heat surge together as your core clenches tight and then snaps with a euphoric release, and you cry out feeling a rush of relief wash over you, leaving you in peaceful bliss.

As the intensity fades your core throbs as you try to catch your breath and regain your senses.

Austin sits up, pulling his white shirt over his head, abs catching the light as he unbuttons his jeans. You know you should say something, you know you should get up, but as you try he easily settles over you, laying you back down.

Concern flickers in your eyes in a silent surrender as his thumb strokes your jaw. “What’s the matter?” he whispers, searching your face with a gentle smile.

“I…I…don’t know,” you pant, your words scattered and incoherent as his hand trails down your side and carefully pushes between your thighs.

His fingers press against your soaked clit, drawing a loud sound from you, and his mouth finds yours again, your eyes squeezing shut tight as he pushes two fingers inside you.

He pulls back from the kiss, watching as you gasp softly, brows knitting as his fingers reach a depth that’s aching to be touched and you fall into his rhythm sinking deeper as he thrusts faster.

Tears well in your eyes as the knot in your stomach tightens and you’re not sure if it’s from the pleasure or the intensity of what he’s doing, but you don’t stop him.

Your mind hazes as his lips return to yours, his open-mouthed kisses pulling you deeper, his fingers thrusting inside coaxing small sounds from you as you near release again, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as he makes you come.

He kisses your neck softly as you moan beneath him, completely spent as he slowly removes his fingers from you.

He shifts his weight, bracing one hand at your side as he lowers his jeans down his legs, and your eyes snap open, watching as his heavy cock slides free, thick and intimidating.

He reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom before kicking them off.

You swallow hard as he brings the packet between his teeth, tearing it open, then sliding the condom all the way on his large rigid cock.

Uneasiness sinks in as he settles back on top of you, his gaze meeting your wide-eyed, vulnerable look as his thumb brushes your cheek. “What’s the matter,” he asks softly, his heat pressing against you.

Your uncertainty swirls. “I don’t know,” you whisper, sharp and hushed as his fingers trace your hairline with adoration, his blue eyes steadily taking you in. “I want you,” he says with certainty, his expression softening. “The moment I saw you, I knew.”

You want him too, but everything is happening too sudden, too fast.

“I want to make your dreams come true,” he says, searching your eyes. “You want that, don’t you?” He asks gently, and your resistance slips as you whisper, “Yes,” your breath shaky.

He pulls you closer, kissing down your jaw. “Good,” he murmurs, nudging your legs apart, his cock pressing at your entrance. “Let me make your dreams come true,” he says as he kisses up your neck, and your eyes flutter shut as you surrender.

He pushes in, and your body locks tight, the pressure of his cock filling you as your walls tense around him. You squeal, feet pushing against the cushions, hands gripping the fabric as he kisses down your neck murmuring, “You’re so good,” waiting as you adjust before easing deeper until he’s fully inside.

Your hands tremble as they finally slide up his back, his broad shoulders flexing with each thrust and he pulls back, his eyes locking with yours as his heavy cock glides against your slick walls.

You moan in pleasure, everything about him is perfect, your thighs are soaked, the wet smacking of his thrusts hypnotic as you look into his eyes in disbelief at how good he feels.

Soft, breathy sounds escape your lips as each move jolts you, his sharp sounds of pleasure matching the spasms of your walls on his cock as your moans spill freely, addicted to the feeling.

His slick cock thrusts deep, hitting a spot that draws a loud, almost pained moan from you, as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

You plead incoherently as your hands slide up to clutch the back of his neck, foreheads pressed together as you look between your bodies.

You watch his cock plunge in deep with every hard thrust and your eyes squeeze shut, feeling the tightness build in your core until it snaps and desperate gasps and moans spill from you as you come.

He grunts, the sound harsher as his need takes over, and he picks up the pace, rocking into you with relentless force.

His hips clap between yours, thrusting deep with his thick unyielding cock stretching you wide. You lose your mind, sobbing and clawing down his back, nails digging into his skin as he moves against you, each thrust sending a shuddering jolt through your core.

His body locks as he comes, his breathy sounds fueling you as his cock twitches inside, a deep “Mmmmm” vibrating from his chest as he tilts his head back, spilling into the condom. He lazily thrusts a few more times before a shiver runs down his back and he slowly pulls out.

You lay panting and dazed, as he lifts off of you and carefully removes the condom. He ties it tight before tossing it into a small bin, then he grabs a warm blanket from the basket, draping it over you both, before pressing a small remote.

The fire pit roars to life in front of you, its glow bright against the evening sky and as he rests against the throw cushions, he pulls you up to lay on his chest.

The warmth of his body, the blanket, and the fire wrap around you as your thoughts drift away, your mind getting lost in the dance of the blue flames in a trance.

He tilts your chin up to make you look into his eyes. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, still reeling from the intensity of it all.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, his tone serious, searching your eyes as a pang of guilt and confusion hits you.

“Okay,” you whisper, wondering what this even means to him.

The complications begin to swirl in your mind about your future, your college, and especially him. You begin to wonder if the carefree and kind Austin you met at the beach was genuine or if this was all just a lure to get you here to sleep with him.

You whimper, trying to get up but he stops you. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

Unable to meet his eyes you exhale shakily. “I should go,” the shame of your actions eating you alive.

“You’re staying” he smiles, pulling you back against him and he kisses you soft and slow, surrendering you into the unknown, changing your life forever.

END 🏍️

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff

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carlsangel · 1 year ago

Text

VIRGINITY (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl ask for some advice.)

tags: mentions of sex, mentions of loss of virginity, the talk

masterlist here!

read part two!!!

You think about sex all the time. It sounds wrong but it’s true, you’re a teenager, it’s on your mind. You often wonder truly what it’s like. What it feels like, why people rave about it so much, why it’s such a huge part of who people are. It always confused you but you were curious. You’ve seen movies before, the classic make out between two people that would cut to them naked with the sheets covering their top half.

You wanted to know if it was like it was in the movies. That’s why, after a while of you and Carl dating, you’d come to the realization that you would soon lose your virginity. As weird as it sounds, the two of you were constantly worked up. Maybe it was the fact you loved each other so much or maybe because you lived in a world where you could die any second. You were genuinely worried to die a virgin.

Anyway, the both of you had countless make out sessions where you both pawed at each other to no end that you believed would finally end up with him inside of you. Every time you were interrupted. It was never the right time, there was just simply too much going on whenever you two tried. There was always someone in the house, God knows how much Rick hates to knock. You guys always had to watch over the baby and you couldn’t leave her unattended because her naps never lasted long.

You talked about it and you’d actually planned on trying the next time Rick and Michonne were out of the house for a while, as long as you were up for it. You’d have Olivia watch Judith, you’ll figure out some lie to tell her.

When Rick mentioned a supply run that they’d be gone for, you two gave each other a look but acted like everything is normal. Inside, you were excited to have a couple days to yourself. But then it hit you.

You’ve never had sex, how are you meant to know what you’re doing? There was nothing you could look at to give you a clue as to how everything worked. Carl didn’t have a clue either, so he went to the one guy knew to ask. You went to the one girl you knew to ask as well.

“Hey, Glenn?” Carl approaches him while he was working on a car near the gates of Alexandria. He didn’t want you to know he was asking how to have sex, he much rather you assume he knew what he was doing and let him handle it. Glenn looked up from the car and wiped his forehead of the sweat. “Hey.” He responds, looking between Carl and the car.

“I sort of need some advice…if you’re able to help.” His tone is embarrassing, he’s obviously gotten the talk but he was never told what exactly to do. “Uh yeah I have some time.” Glenn places the tool in his hand down on the floor, standing up to wipe his hands off. “What’s up?”

Carl looks at him hesitantly but knows he has to do this. “So um…I know like…what sex is but, i was wondering if you could tell me a bit more how it um..how it works?” He rambles, watching Glenn’s eyes go wide at his words. “Uhhhh….” Glenn thinks for a moment, the moment getting increasingly awkward as he stalled. “Well, use protection.” He swallows hard, trying a tone of voice to make the situation less weird. Carl makes an odd face at him, sort of cringing. “W-well do you need one- a condom? Like is that why you’re…” Glenn’s voice trails off when he realizes that Carl is actually asking so he can act on his advice.

Carl looks at him and nods, hesitating to answer. “Yeah.” He responds, his hands fiddling with the hem of his flannel. Glenn stares at him, somewhat uncomfortable. He pats his pants feeling around his pockets and he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a condom, a strip falling from the singular one he meant to take from his pocket. He rips one off quickly, shoving the rest back into his pants frantically. “Just take it.” He sticks it out and Carl takes it and shoves it into his own pocket. “Why do you just have these on hand?” Carl asks, sort of in a disturbed tone.

“Well I- forget it just…” He takes a step back and looks back to the car. He can’t look at Carl but he takes a breath to prepare to give better advice. He continues. “Look, just communicate with her, I think that’s the most important thing okay? You’ll know what you’re doing in the moment.”

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

“They never know where to put it so you’re gonna have to show ‘em.” Maggie tells you handing you a glass of water while you’re sat on her couch. She was very open about this which made you feel more comfortable. She settles into the couch next to you and looks at you intently. “You just gotta know that it’s what you want in the moment. You understand?” She has a light but serious tone.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just scared it’s gonna hurt or something.” You giggle awkwardly. “Well it might, if you bleed that’s normal too.” You squirm a tad at her words. “But you might not. It shouldn’t hurt after you get used to it. Just have him wait while you adjust to the feeling.” She gives you a content smile.

“Okay, I really appreciate this I wasn’t sure who else to go to…” You take a sip of your water and she nods. “If you ever need anything I’m here. Just…don’t get pregnant. That’s another thing, wait till you have condoms. And don’t forget to pee after.” She adds.

You thank Maggie and she decides to walk you out. You look for Carl and Glenn to meet up before dinner. You head towards the gates to see them talking which you find sort of ironic, you had no idea he was asking for advice like you were. He notices you and waves bye to Glenn before walking over to you, Maggie walking over to her husband. Sort of like a trade off.

“Don’t tell your dad I gave you that!” Glenn shouts. Carl gives him some sort of confirmation and returns his attention back to you.

“What’s that about?” You question.

“It’s nothing.”

a/n: the next part will be banger. trust. ANYWAY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTT :> thank u anon for requesting!!! next part comes out maybe this weekend!!! i’ve got some school stuff popping this week sooo it’ll take a little to come out, also it’s smut and i’ve never written that before SO IT MIGHT TAKE ME A LIL

tags: @zomb-1-egutzz

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes angst #the walking dead carl #twd carl #carl grimes smut #rinas writing 🌀

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dimplesxx · 2 months ago

Text

based on this🥴 NSFW MINORS DNI PLSSSSSS‼️‼️ an: i gave it backstory bcs i cant do porn w/o plot im sorry ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ ♡- shiu who, one day, completely forgets about the date you guys planned together at home after a long time spent apart, a nice wine and dine and maybe some love-making and falling asleep after. ♡- shiu whos face drops when he comes home late that night, watching you heartbrokenly throw away the food you cooked, gone cold on the marble dining table. ♡- shiu who then follows you around the entire apartment, apologizing at least a gazillion times. his excuse being that his work day was so hectic, that he forgot. ♡- but you were MAD. you planned this for so long only for everything to go to waste. you, who had barely known how to make ramen noodles spent time and effort cooking up a dish you knew the both of you would enjoy. so you gave him the silent treatment. ♡- shiu who hugged you from behind and fell asleep while apologizing into your neck, and though the gesture was sweet, you weren't giving in. ♡- you, who got mad at him the next day when he kept pestering you and distracting you even during chores/work, so you yell at him to leave you alone for 'a few minutes at least!' ♡- shiu who then stopped pestering you with vexation in his eyes that you failed to notice as you continued giving him the silent treatment and now, an add on: attitude. ♡- days pass, and shiu just can't take your disrespect anymore. he picked you up when you were folding the laundry, tossed you over his shoulder and practically bodyslammed you onto the edge of the bed. ♡- shiu who then takes what feels like 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 teasing you, your legs swung over his shoulder, your pants at your ankles but your panties still on as he traces the insides of you thighs with his tongue. ♡- shiu who almost bursts out laughing when he sees the attitude dissipate from your eyes, replaced with lust and want, who smirks against your thighs when you desperately mewl and claw at his hands, secured around your thighs. ♡- shiu who then licks a slow stripe up your clothed pussy, and you could almost cum just from that. you moan and beseech for more. ♡- shiu, who can't stand his wife begging. but also can't stand her attitude, so he doesn't take your panties off, continuing licking agonizingly slow at your soaking wet cunt. ♡- shiu who doesn't let you cum at first, making you say sorry for treating him like this when all he was trying to do was apologize. ♡- you, who scream your apologies, begging for him to make you cum. ♡- shiu who then snickers against your drenched panties when you come from just one more lap, arching your back off the mattress and shaking in his hold as you scream his name. ♡- shiu who then peels your sopping undies off your legs and puts them in his pocket, walking away like nothing happened and like he doesn't have a raging hard on. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ an: this is so bad omfg😭 also it has no reason to be this long LOL ps: it's my first time writing, so i NEED yall to tell me whats wrong, please. even if it's spellings or grammar. plssss drop criticism <33

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arandomao3user · 7 days ago

Note

can you hook me up with some fluffy timbern cause all i keep seeing is posts about them being freaky 😔

No clue what you're talking about (I do. I got you.)

Tim, holding a camera in a dimly lit area: Day four of holding my boyfriend's cat hostage.

Tim, zooming his camera over to a purring stray calico that Bernard feeds: Because he's withholding my zesti privileges. All is fair in love and w—

Bernard, through the door: Timboo, why are you talking to yourself?

Tim: I'M MAKING A BREAKTHROUGH!

Bernard: . . . Alright. I'm gonna go feed the strays, okay?

Tim: 'kay!

Tim, whispering as he hears Bernard walking away: Success.

—

Bernard: Care to explain who I sent you to the store with a very specific list, and you somehow only brought back the wrong things?

Tim: You told me to get wild rice!

Bernard: Tim. Baby. Dove. Love. Timboo. Love of my life. These are rice seeds.

Tim: Yeah. Wild. Rice.

Bernard, trying not to laugh: Oh... Oh, Tim...

Tim: What's wild rice then?!

Bernard: It's... It's rice... It... It says it in the packaging... I told you to get brown sugar.

Tim: Yeah. So?

Bernard: This is regular sugar, and brown food colouring.

Tim: Yes. We can now make. Brown. Sugar.

Bernard:

Tim:

Bernard: I love you.

Tim: I love you, too.

—

Tim, falling in through one of Bernard's apartment windows in his Robin suit:

Bernard: ?! Tim!?

Tim, chucking off his boots and walking up to Bernard, hugging him:

Bernard, hugging him back: Uh? Are you okay?

Tim: . . . Batman was mean to me.

Bernard: Oh.

Tim: Yeah.

Bernard: Wanna cuddle in my bed?

Tim: Yes, please.

Bernard: Cool, c'mon. I downloaded a documentary on the Illuminati that we can watch.

—

At airport security.

Tim, deep sigh: I need to remove all the metal on my body?

Security: Yes, sir.

Tim, groaning as he begins to take out his earrings, sliding out a pocket knife from each boot, a tracking device in his back pocket, another tracking device attached to his shirt, a phone, another phone, somehow another phone, a burner phone, a panic button, three inhalers (they're Jason's), a watch, his necklace, a shard of kryptonite, two rings, and another tracking device: I also have various pieces of metal throughout my body from multiple breaks and fractures from over the years.

Bernard, dropping two guns, a tracking device, his earrings, rings, a knife, and a switchblade, and a batarang down onto the tray: I was in a cult, no clue if they put anything in my body.

Security: . . .

—

Damian's Principle: I assume your Father will be here soon?

Damian: Oh, no, my Father is busy with business overseas and my eldest brother works in Blüdhaven, as you know.

Principle: So, who's coming to—

Bernard, slamming open the door: DAMI! WHAT HAPPENED!?

Tim, following behind him with a phone in one hand and a smoothie in the other: Do you KNOW who we are!? Do you KNOW are last name!? *Incoherent French* AND YOU ARE TRYING SO SUSPEND THE YOUNGEST WAYNE!?

Principle, sighing: Oh, dear god...

Damian: THERE WAS A BOY IN CLASS DEMANDING MONEY FROM THE WEAKER STUDENTS! So, naturally I rallied them up and we took what was rightfully theirs.

Bernard: You started a gang?

Damian: A REVOLUTION!

Principle: We do not condone such... Actions in this school—

Tim: Let me get this straight,

Tim, taking a long sip of his smoothie: In the land of the free, a country founded on justice and the rights of man, your school does not stand for the same values and principles our country was raised from? And Damian is being reprimanded for it?

Bernard, gasping with full offense: Is he even receiving an education!? What's he learning about?! How to lose a war!? We'd send him to France for an education if we wanted him to learn that!

Principle: Wha... I... No, Mr. Drake-Wayne—

Tim: No, it's fine, you can just hear from our Father who will be contacting you shortly to express his distaste with your school and principles, or lack thereof, in this case. He will decide if the press might need to be involved. Come, Damian.

In the car...

Damian: Where did you two learn to behave like that?

Bernard, shrugging: My Mom.

Tim: My Mother.

—

Bernard: . . .

Tim, in his old Red Robin uniform: What!?

Bernard: The, um, cowl... Is...

Tim: It's cool!

Bernard, holding back laughs: Love dove... You... uh... It certainly ages you.

Tim: >:( It's cool!

Bernard: I can't even tell if you're angry or sad right now.

Tim: I lost my spleen in this.

Bernard, breaking into a fit of laughter:

Tim: Okay, fine, back to the domino! I'm done!

Bernard: I'm sorryyyyy!!!

Tim: Lies!

—

Tim, stuck in bed with a broken leg: Ugh, I'm bored...

Bernard: . . . Do you think I could fit in your suit?

Tim: . . . You're a genius.

—

Bernard: . . .

Cass, who snuck into Tim's houseboat for snacks: . . .

Bernard: Wanna play Scrabble?

Cass: . . . Yes.

Four hours later...

Bernard: That's not a word!

Cass: Yes. It is.

Tim: What... What's happening?

Bernard: Tim, baby, dove, lovely, hot stuff, please tell me if "Gardyloo" is a word?

Tim: . . . Technically?

Cass: I win.

Bernard: How?!

Tim: You challenged Cass to scrabble? Might as well of challenged Jason.

Bernard: This isn't possible.

Cass: Sore loser?

Bernard: Am not!

Cass: Are to.

Tim: . . . It's five in the morning.

—

Bernard, walking into his and Tim's bedroom:

Tim, sitting in the center of their bed with a large plate full of pizza bagels and an extra large cup of zesti in hand: . . . You're home early.

Bernard: Care to, uh, explain?

Tim: Oh. Yeah. This is self care.

Bernard: It looks like a heart attack waiting to happen.

Tim: Nope, this is a ritual.

Bernard: . . . Am I invited?

Tim: Hm... Yes.

Bernard: Nice! :D

—

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Collision

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

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

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

Summary: you find yourself in the hands of unexpected saviours after an accident.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Helmut Zemo

Note: Ugh, here we go.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

A loud bang awakes you.

You're not in your bed. Not sleeping. That cloudy feeling in your head combines with the haze of dust across your vision. The same ash coats your skin, suffocating as you writhe beneath the weight that pins you.

You moan and cough, dizzy and dazed as your mind turns slowly. You reach up instinctively to drag yourself free of whatever is on you. The effort does little more than pull more scraps of plaster towards you.

You fall flat and wheeze. What the heck happened? You blink and try to wipe the grime from your face.

It comes in patches. The big building, the interview, your borrowed heels. The desperation that's now turned dire as you stare at the singed ceiling.

"Dammit," a voice snarls as there's a clatter. Some metal thumps and there's a hiss. "You goddamn--" the man stops himself. "I said no bombs."

"You said you wanted a way in, soldat," the lilted slither returns.

"Don't call me that. I'll break your jaw," the deeper voice warns. "I doubt that thing you're wearing will protect you. You look stupid."

"Well, forgive me for having taste," the other man snickers. "You got what you needed--"

"I don't need all this. Do you have any idea the kinda shit that's gonna rain down on me. You're lucky this place was as shell--"

Your throat clogs with ash and you cough again. You try to wet your lips but even your tongue is pasty with the stuff. Their voices silence. You listen but only hear one pair of steps.

A shadow appears on the other side of the lumber and metal that traps you. Another from your other side you don't hear. You raise your palm helplessly to shield yourself. Blood covers your fingers, one of them bent to the side. You whimper and choke again.

"Shit, I told you--" The bare-faced man snarls at the one in the strange purple mask.

"She was not in my calculations," the other rebuffs.

"Not in your--" the other huffs and stops himself. He drops to one knee over you. "Miss, miss, can you hear me?"

You try to answer and your voice comes out like a fizzle. He shakes his head and turns to sneer at the other man. He stands and lifts the thick pillar from over you, clearing away the rest of the mess.

"Little help," he snips at the other.

"I think you got it," the other pulls a thin thread free of his glove.

"Miss," the other man kneels again, feeling around his belt. He frees a canteen and searches his pockets. He shrugs and pours the water over your face. He wipes the dust away with his hand then put the neck above your lips. "Don't swallow, you gotta rinse this stuff out."

He fills your mouth and you gag. He hurriedly sits you up and you hack out the liquid with a rattle. Your arms hangs at your left side and you grunt at the pang in your bones.

"Zemo! You just gonna watch."

"Yes," the other man answers smugly. "What are we going to do with the creature?"

"You're serious?"

"I am... on the lamb, as you say," the other shrugs.

"Get the car," the man holding you up growls.

"Wh-what..." you can barely speak for the pain. Your head droops as the room tilts in your vision and you stare down at the red stain across your pressed blouse. Blood. Your blood.

"Go!" The man yells.

The footsteps of the other scamper off beneath his grumble. The man lifts you as you put your head back and scream in horror. You feel the blood draining out of you.

"Shh, stop," he hisses as he walks over the piles of rubble. "Don't do that, alright? You gotta calm down."

"B-b-but..." you babble and put your hands to your side, feeling the warm stickiness.

"That's it, doll, put pressure on it." He girds as he nears the blown-out wall.

You whine and quake as you obey him. You tuck your chin down and focus on containing the flow. An engine whirs up and he angles you around to open the door. He slides you into the backset and follows you.

"Go," he orders the driver.

"Oh, Barnes," the man he called Zemo tuts. "Not such a cold heart after all."

"Be quiet," he snips. Barnes?

He slides something free of the pocket in the door and opens the small chest. He takes out gauze and folds it in layers.

"Let me get a look," he touches your hand with his. His fingers are forged in metal. Huh?

Your hand slips and he wipes with the gauze. He hums as he leans in, parting the torn fabric around the gash.

"Not awful," her mutters.

"Dying," you murmur.

"No," he insists. "Zemo, what are you doing? Taking in the sights?"

"Be calm. It wouldn't do to draw attention," he insists.

The other man growls again but keeps tending to you. He tugs your shirt up above your chest and wraps your middle, padding around the cut with a thick layer of cotton. He knots it tight then puts his fingers to your neck.

"Pulse is strong," he says then feels along your arm. You cry out as he touches left. "Can you move it?"

You try and shriek again.

"Dear man, her screams are rather distracting."

"Shut up." Barnes' lips thin. "Alright, uh," he unzips his jacket and slips his hand under, fishing around. "Just relax, doll. I got something will help you until we get you fixed up."

He slides out a metal tube. You squint, your lashes still covered in dust. A sharp point pops out the end. Before you can react, he jabs it into your upper arm. A coolness spreads through your vein and tingles over you, washing out the agony.

"Zemo..." Barnes hisses as your eyes drift upward into the sockets. "... you goddamn idiot."

💞

Swaths of black and grey fold into each other in the abstraction of your subconscious. You forget the ruin, the blood, the fear. You forget yourself as you sink into the pit.

A glimmer of light breaks the void. A thin line between your eyelids. Your skull pulses and you feel as if you're moving. You open your eyes completely. You're still. Laying on your back, propped up slightly, in a king bed.

Where are you? The world around you is unfamiliar. The tall posts of the bed frame, the canopy pinned back behind them, the silky duvet and sheets. For all the comfort, you are entirely uncomfortable.

Your shoulder hurts, your ribs and side too, your face is thrumming, and your finger is on fire. You look down at your right hand. Your pink is wrapped and splinted. Your left shoulder is achy, your arm bent into a sling. The blankets are folded right beneath your elbow, hiding the rest of your injuries.

You remember the earth shaking, the dust, the voices. Those men...

You peer around as slowly the edges of your vision sharpen. There's a large painting showing a scene of ribaldry, men and women from another era sloshing wine without modesty. The furniture is antique and polished, well-kept, the wall-paper vintage but not gauche.

Next to you is a folded paper standing like a pyramid. Next to it, a golden bell. The card reads; ring me.

You whimper at just the thought of moving. You don't even try your left arm. You reach and grab the handle, your pinky kept straight in the splint. You tinkle the bell and the noise rattles in your head. You put it down to quiet the sharp noise.

You wait. You don't hear anything. Nothing changes.

You close your eyes and ease against the pillows. You hurt so bad. You wish you could just go back to sleep but the pain keeps you restless.

There's a creak. You look out from beneath your lashes as the door opens. A man enters. Brown hair, browner eyes, and a permanent smirk written into his thin lips.

"Darling, you are alive!" He raises his glass of dark liquid and slurps bawdily. "Cheers to you."

You blink. You know that voice. The buzzing in your ears clears.

"Zemo?"

"You remember!" He winks triumphantly. "Ah, but you must be miserable. Scotch?"

He comes closer and offers the glass. He wears a silken robe that gives a peek at his fluffy chest hair. You frown and shake your head, grimacing at the ripples of pain.

"I do recommend it. In your state, especially."

"Zemo," his voice rolls like silt in the air. He backs away and turns to watch the other man enter. The one with the metal arm.

"Barnes," you croak.

He stops short and looks at Zemo. "Bucky," he corrects you.

You can only nod. Just once before you moan and quiver against the pillows.

"It must be wearing off," he shakes his head and approaches. He opens the drawer of the nightstand. He takes out another metal tube. "Half-dose this time. Don't wanna make a habit."

He pokes your arm again. Too quick for you to react. You sigh as the soothing floe overrides your pain.

"You do like them sedated, eh?" The other man teases.

"Why are you in here?" Bucky spins on his cohort. "Hm? And why aren't you dressed?"

"You should be praising me. I was quick to respond for her call for help. I did not even fully draw my bath. I came at once."

"With scotch?"

"Well, forgive me for enjoying the finer things."

"You are unbelievable."

"Me? You are the one who absconded with a casualty."

"I did not--"

"You should've taken her to hospital."

"You said--"

"You don't usually listen to me," Zemo counters coyly. Your eyelids droop as their argument turns to low drones in your itchy ears.

"Doll," Bucky startles you as suddenly he's beside you, sat on the edge of the bed with a glowing glass of water. "You need to drink some. Eat too."

You gurgle senselessly. He leans the brim on your lips and slowly tips it into your mouth. He gentle rubs your throat to make your swallow. It's almost soothing.

"We're just gonna get you back to new then..." he trails off into a sigh. "Wasn't supposed to happen." He trades the glass for a bowl. "Soup."

He offers the spoon. You bat your lashes and open your mouth numbly. He feeds you the warm broth. You close your mouth and gulp with effort.

"Sorry, ya know? It's not-- not what I'm doing-- I thought--" he shakes his head. "Does it matter what I say? Look at you."

You don't say anything. You can't. He feeds you another bite and you shakily move your right hand towards him. You touch the hem of his shirt. He looks down in confusion.

"What?" He furrows his brow, blue eyes swimming like water sparkling over the coast.

"Know... you." You utter as your brain flickers.

He shrugs and scoops up more soup. As he hovers it before you, you groan and lift your hand to touch his. You brush the metal plates of the heel cradling the bowl.

"Hero." You say as the thoughts slowly piece together.

He sighs and looks down. His jaw clenches and his nose flares. He glances over his shoulder.

"Trying," he utters.

You keep your hand up, shifting it to look at your pinky. You frown. He does too. He rests the spoon in the bowl and gently guides your hand down.

"Tried to fix you up," he spoons up more soup. "Gonna be a bit."

You take another bite. It's better the more you eat. Not as stringent. Your stomach slowly adjusts.

You watch him as you eat. That seems to make him nervous. You remember him from pictures and videos. On the news. In history books.

"Bucky," you say.

"Just like I said, doll," he affirms.

You nod and open your mouth again. He puts the spoon in and you suck it clean. Now he watches you.

"Sorry about my... about Zemo."

You shake your head and wave weakly. You push your hand on the bed and try to sit up. His eyes flash.

"Woah, don't-- you gotta take it easy."

You fall back and whine. He sets the bowl down and turns to help you, sitting you up higher as he adjusts the pillows. He draws back, his hands brushing your sides and he sits again.

"Doll, you need anything, you say so." He eyes you with concern. "Already did enough damage."

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